Chereads / Supernatural: The Great Hunter System / Chapter 6 - Greythorne Manor VI

Chapter 6 - Greythorne Manor VI

"Lady Annalise..."

"Lady Annalise..."

"Annalise..."

"Anna!"

The loud voice startled Annalise into consciousness, her mind pounding with an ache one could liken to a jackhammer. Her thoughts raced for memories and answers as to why she was feeling this way. For but a few hours ago, she was happily playing with her friends-cum-lackeys, her beloved brother returning home with a woman of the night, and then...

Bang! Bang! Bang!

Deep bangs rang across their sprawling estate, startling her, and then aches of both mind and body. Heat spread across her torso, mainly along her heart, as a bizarre feeling of emptiness pervaded her very essence.

She had lost something... someone important, and her body was taking the brunt of the consequences.

"I-I don't feel good..." She sniffed, her nose reddened and eyes bloodshot. Dizziness added to her slew of problems as she swayed to the side, nearly hitting her head at the table, but, fortunately, a gentle yet wet hand caught her and embraced her tiny figure. "Help..."

"I-I'm scared too..."

"I wanna go home. I want Mommy!"

Cried the cacophony of small children, aiding her in securing the help of the only adult in the room.

"D-Don't worry, children." Soothed the maid, who wore the ensemble prepared by her brother. "I-I'll get help with Master Richard. He'll know what to do."

"Brother..." she muttered as a helpless smile appeared on her, but was quickly replaced by agony, remembering her cooperation with her uncle's ploy. Tears fell down her eyes, dampening her rosy cheeks. "Sorry..."

She shushed her with her index finger while the maid's other hand caressed her mousy brown hair. "It'll be alright. Just sleep for a while and when you wake up... you'll be at your brother's side."

The thoughts of her brother coddling and taking care of her placated her panic-ridden face as her lids grew heavier by the second, the cries of her friends growing silent. Until her consciousness returned once more to the infinite whirl of dark chaos.

●●●Courtyard●●●

Irwin, bloodied but unbowed, lurched towards the fallen figure of his vessel's family. His gait, relaxed yet tense for every step, took too much effort from his deathly exhausted body. Perhaps the alchemical concoction rejuvenated his life, but it did so at the cost of his spirit.

"Hey, Archie. You dead yet?" He asks weakly, panting all the while as he took one more step and flopped down near Archibald's body. "If you're dead, can I have all your money?"

A weakened laugh escaped from Archibald's mouth, his shoulder heaving up and down as they facilitated his breathing. "It'll take more than me killing my beloved brother to trust my estate to you, dear... boy."

"Hah... I figured." Irwin sighed, a forlorn expression on his mud-cached face before snorting in incredulity that soon turned into a burst of full-blown laughter. "Haha. Jesus, fuck. Fucking an Ancestor werewolf? What a load of bullshit."

Archibald groaned as he turned to his side, his torn neck squelching blood, but he did not mind it as he, too, laughed at the absurdity of it all. "Haha. We came from England, son. We were once werewolves in London."

The two men shared a laugh as the dark skies pelted them with the liquid of life, enjoying the sensation of the blood, sweat, and grime being removed from their tired bodies and exhausted spirits.

Boom!

The storm cracked once more while the rain began receding and within minutes, it gave way to the silvery light of a full moon.

"Life's a fickle thing, innit?" Archibald asked as he closed his eyes and felt his spirit began to ascent and leave his body.

"No... it's not." Irwin replied as he conjured his second drop of the alchemical concoction on his index fingertip.

The drop traced towards the tip of his dirty nails as he positioned his finger above Archibald's neck. It dangled for but a second before falling down to the gaping wound, eliciting a pained hiss from Archibald.

The neck wound soon began healing at a rapid pace. Like worms devouring through their meal, pieces of his skin overlapped and created new ones. Archibald grunted in pain as he clenched his fist, his finger digging deep into the dirt below him. No sooner did Irwin drop the concoction unto his wound than it formed new glossy flesh, closing it entirely.

"W-What? What sorcery was that?" Archibald asks, wide-eyed with unbelief and astonishment.

"Not sorcery, Archie. Science, pure hard science." Irwin smiled as he closed his eyes and lay on the ground. "Also, a bit of magic. So, yeah, a bit of sorcery, but a lot of science."

"Well, I'm gonna rest a bit," Archibald said, closing his eyes and letting out an enormous sigh. "Just don't mind me and do your thing, son."

Irwin hummed as he watched his vessel's father fall asleep in under ten seconds. Noting his exhaustion was too severe for further consciousness. Checking his breathing to be too natural to be faked, Irwin stood up with a silent groan and headed towards the crackling corpse of his vessel's uncle, Wallace Greythorne, a fourth-generation pure-blooded werewolf.

"Damn shame." He remarked as he touched his face and thought of the Trade Shop.

■■

[Trade Shop]

[Please Select And Specify The Item You Wish To Trade]

■■

"Wallace Greythorne."

■■

[Trade Accepted]

[Trade List Incoming...]

■■

Soon, a much shorter yet still abundant list appeared before him. The list contained artifacts, weapons, materials, food, and even a lock of the Unicorn's mane.

"Shit. Should've thought of an item to trade first." He pondered his choices. Though he knew of this world's upcoming problems, he figured that the Winchester brothers would handle all of it. Of course, he would need to ensure that none of the people important or useful to him would die in the wake of their saving the world.

Most, if not all, of the people who helped the Winchesters died or were hurt in some ways. So he figured he needed some kind of defensive artifact, a spell, or even one of those cards, like the ones in his quest. "Wait. Now, hang on for a minute. Quests."

[Quest Name: Thorn In The Family

Quest Type: Rescue | System Reward

Quest Description: Every family has a dark secret that, if known, will ruin them, but your family? Well, let's just say your secret will not just ruin you, it will actively kill you. And you need to prevent that. Through context clues and memory packs, you know that someone in the manor attacked and killed your predecessor and his companion, but it turns out that you're still alive and well. Well, enough to mark their mission as a failure and, now, they're gunning for you again. In fact, not just you, but everyone in the family who doesn't have... the 'Gift'. Can you survive until backup arrives? Will you make sure that the family line doesn't end with you? What will it take for a stranger to care for a family that he doesn't know?

Quest Objective/s: Make sure two (2) members of the Greythorne clan survive until 06:00 a.m. [4/6 Surviving Members]; Stay alive until 06:00 a.m.

Quest Reward/s: (5x) Monster Banishing Sigil Card (Consumable); (1x) Enchanted Iridium Dagger]

"What? I mean, I killed the Ancestor. What the hell is wrong with the quest?" He asked of no one in particular. "System. Show quest progress."

[Quest Objective/s: Make sure two (2) members of the Greythorne clan survive until 06:00 a.m. [4/6 Surviving Members]; Stay alive until 06:00 a.m. [Time: 01:37 a.m.] ]

"Wait, what? Do I have to kill Anastasia? Is she a wolf too?" Confusion marred Irwin's face as he faced the dilemma of going up the manor and killing another old werewolf, but this time he did not have any more silver bullets. Granted, he could ask Garth for more since the latter parked his car right outside the estate, but that felt like a horror movie cliche to him and that Anastasia would prey on the sleeping Archibald, then his vessel's sister, then him.

"I'll just ask Garth and hope his canonical appearance in season seven would give him plot armor or something. Right, Chuck?"

Boom!

"Yeah, I don't have a manual for lightning signs from a petulant deity. Sorry."

Boom!

Step! Step!

"Master Richard!" A woman's yell resounded across the courtyard. "Help!"

Irwin turned around, his gaze training on Ellaise's hurried form holding the unconscious bod of his vessel's little sister. "What happened?"

"M-Master Richard, hah, I-I don't know what happened. She just collapsed. I walked in the room and they attacked me--"

"Hey, hey, hey, Ella. Take it easy. You came into the room and they attacked you. Then what? Did you use the knife?"

"Y-Yes, sir. I used the knife a bit. Just nicked her in the arm and it started smoking. Like it was burning. I asked her about it but she didn't say. She just ran into her closet." Ella responded, cheeks flushed.

Irwin sighed as he recognized the effects she was mentioning. "Fuck me. Give me to her."

Ella nodded, gently offloading Annalise onto her brother's arm as she sighed in visible relief. She nearly cried as Annalise unconsciously snuggled into her brother's arm for she couldn't bear to lose another person in her life.

"It's gonna be alright, Ella. You said the knife hurt her?" Irwin asks.

"Y-Yeah, yes. Nicked her and just started burning." Ella nodded repeatedly, giving the knife to him.

Irwin received the knife as he lay down on the ground, placing Annalise's head onto his lap and his body on the ground. "You should check on a friend of mine. Garth, the agent. He's in the garden. Call him here and tell him to bring a silver knife or bullet or whatever."

Ella nodded, turning around and running towards the garden while Irwin repositioned Annalise's head so she could become more comfortable. He sighed for the umpteenth time, for he knew what he had to do.

Either Wallace or the Ancestor had bitten her, the latter of whom no longer exists on Earth. But what he could not figure out was why she was reacting this way to the death of her Sire. The Supernatural television show neither showed nor mentioned that the death of their maker affected werewolf spawns.

Annalise needed the werewolf cure fast, but he knew it was nearly impossible to acquire the Men of Letter's yellow liquid without the Trade Shop and even if he would trade it for a stranger, he only had one chance to inject it into her with Wallace's blood and that's if he was her Sire. If not, then...

"Shit." Irwin cursed as he looked at the sky. Though still dark, the silvery moon had given it a bit of light. "Any ideas?"

"Mmm... b-brother?" Annalise rouses from her faint-induced sleep. "Sooo hungry..."

"Hah, yeah? Sorry, Peachy, but, uh, no food here." Irwin replied, catching his use of her nickname. "Hey, Peachy, do you know who bit you?"

Contrary to his expectation, or, more accurately, as expected, of a nine-year-old, Annalise began crying as guilt pressured her psyche. She hugged him harder, burying her head in his stomach.

Something deep within Irwin lurched as he saw Annalise's pitiful form, his very essence trembling under a stimulus foreign to his body.

'System, explain.' He asks of his system, his hands clenching Annalise tighter.

[Sorry about this. Last message. No, scratch that. Second to last message. But your vessel's previous owner trying his best to reoccupy his body. Shocked me for a second there. Here I thought an alcoholic would want to spend his time in Valhalla, but turns out he's more resilient than I thought. Also, loves his sister soooo much! Like so creepily much. Not that I had the right to say that, but still. So I'm going to give you a choice. Want to let the old fella speak to you for a second, then let him live out his life in the afterlife?

Not yours truly, Entity Beyond Human Comprehension.]

"You're gonna be alright, Peachy." Irwin smiled as he dropped the knife from his hands and caressed Annalise's teary cheeks before accepting the soul's request.

●●●Somewhere●●●

~No stop signs~

"... Speed limits..."

~Nobody's gonna slow me down~

"... Like a wheel, Gonna spin it..."

Floop!

Irwin materialized in a featureless white plain, wind blew his hair away as he scrutinized the indistinctive white plane of existence. No buildings, grass, trees, clouds, or sun, but still had air, a source of light, and a brown-haired man singing along badly to a radio.

"Richard?"

The man, Richard, held up a finger as he waited for the chorus. With his other hand, Richard conjured a black bass guitar connected to a large amplifier. "... I'm on the Highway to Hell~~~"

Richard then went off an epic guitar solo, involving a blazing horse ridden by Dragonborn with skeletal wings, the demonic figure from Tenacious D's tribute song dancing to the song, and a copy of Mark Pellegrino's Lucifer and Jensen Ackles' Micheal shoving each other like they're in a mosh pit. It all ended with a twenty-minute firework show.

Clap! Clap!

"Wow. T-That's... wow." Irwin was speechless as he clapped politely. "Can we get on with this now? Your fucking sister's dying."

"Oh, yeah, forgot." Richard chuckled, snapping his fingers to remove all the paraphernalia and materializing a bottle of wine, which he took a glug of. "So, first of all, thank you for allowing me to communicate with you."

"That's, uh, you're welcome. Least I can do."

"No, it's not. You've done more than I would do in your situation."

"No, I did not. It forced me to do it. You know, either accept the quest or face the consequences."

"What? No, it does not say that. No consequences or failure, just no rewards if the objectives are not met."

"What? Y- NO!" Shocked and appalled was the primary emotion on Irwin's face as he hurriedly checked his Quest Window. Reading the wording and the format of the Quest, He could not help but palm and grind his hand upon his face. "I am so stupid."

"Well, either way, you helped my family. So you have my gratitude."

"Yeah, yeah." Irwin's hand was still on his face, hiding the blush on his cheeks. "So, anything else?"

"Oh, yeah." Richard snapped his fingers, causing a yellowish red liquid in a large syringe to appear mid-air. "I kinda scoured your memory for a cure, since you were so sure that it had one. So, I kinda used my only chance of going to heaven to create this... the perfect form of the werewolf curse. No pain, and full removal. But she'll be in a forced hibernation for half a day. "

The werewolf cure floated towards Irwin, who received it with gusto. "I-I'll make sure she gets cured and live a happy life."

"Yeah, it would honestly make being tortured in hell worth it to see her grow up and be a person separate from her identity as a Greythorne." Richard had a tear falling down her eye as he turned around to see a door of bones materialize, fire and brimstone emitted their fiery aura into the plain room. "See you next time."

Richard began walking towards the door to Hell when Irwin called out to him. "For fuck's sake. I-I'll, uh, use the second of my three rewards to give the alcoholic bastard a chance to drink wine with Viking raiders."

Boom!

A beam of white light struck the door to Hell and it soon turned into a massive wooden double door inscribed with Celtic runes, drunken chanting, and sploshed liquid echoed from inside the door.

"Haha! I told you. You're a good person." Richard laughed as he snapped his fingers, enveloping him in a thick cloud. The cloud disappeared as he appeared wearing a fur vest, Viking helmet, and a wooden mug full of mead. "I'll be going now. Oh, you may find a few vestiges of my soul in your body. Nothing serious, just remnants of my attempts to steer your choices."

Before"Arr, matey! I be drinking from thine mug!"

Richard swaggered inside the door, chanting sea chanties along the way.

"Yep, the worst decision of my life."

Boom!

●●●Courtyard●●●

Boom!

"--Richard!"

"Wh-What?" Irwin shook his head, as the sudden lack of light startled him. "I'm alright. What happened?"

"Well, you called me here and brought back a silver knife. It's all I have." Garth's voice echoed in his ears. "We found you here staring blankly and the little girl asleep. Are there other werewolves?"

"No, no. I can cure her." Irwin patted his clothes, finding the syringe in his pants pocket. As he took it out and gently placed it against Annalise's neck, a thought struck him. He did not know how to inject the cure properly. "So, uh, hey, Garth! You were pre-med, yeah?"

"Uh, yeah. I have a DDS." Garth nodded, unsure of what Irwin meant by a cure and his subsequent question. "Why? What are your doing?"

"I need you to inject this shit into her bloodstream," Irwin replied, asking for Garth's expertise on the subject. "Don't worry about it. Don't ask questions about it. Just do it. Please."

Garth nodded as he knelt and grabbed the cure from Irwin's hand before injecting it into Annalise's neck veins. He pushed the liquid into her as her veins quivered under the pressure of the liquid.

"Mmmm..." Annalise moaned in pain before heaving a sigh. Her breathing, turned consistent as if she was a slumbering princess suffering from a curse.

Irwin smiled as he caressed her hair. "She's going to be alright."

[Ding! Quest Accomplished]

[Quest Reward Distributed]

■■

[Active Quest: 00

Completed Quest: 01!

Failed Quest: 00 ]

■■

"Everyone's safe now. Garth." Irwin called out to his partner, who turned towards him. "I'm gonna be collapsing in a few seconds. When I wake up, we'll talk about your future with me... and... thank you for helping me."

Irwin showed his toothy smile before his eyes closed and his body fall unceremoniously on the tufted grass of the courtyard.

"What the hell happened?" Ella asks wide-eyed and wide mouth as she turned to the hunter to her side.

Garth merely smiled as he looked at the night sky. "They've been Garth'd."