
Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/8708341.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Graphic_Depictions_Of_Violence, Underage, Rape/Non-Con
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Supernatural
  Relationship:
      Dean_Winchester/Other(s)
  Character:
      Sam_Winchester, Dean_Winchester, Bobby_Singer
  Additional Tags:
      Torture, Genderswap, Horror, Alternate_Universe, Drama, Abuse, Hurt/
      Comfort
  Collections:
      Sinful_Desire
  Stats:
      Published: 2012-09-02 Chapters: 3/3 Words: 2501
****** White to Red: Innocence lost ******
by Ih_yes [archived by sinfuldesire_archivist]
Summary
     It's a new world. Dark. Merciless. The shadows of the human mind walk
     freely. a war was waged. countless lives were lost. It is now ACO
     (after coming out) 255. This is the story of a girl named Samantha,
     and the length she will go to get revenge.
Notes
     Note from the Sinful Desire archivists: this story was originally
     archived at Sinful-Desire.org. To preserve the archive, we began
     importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in
     November 2016. We e-mailed all creators about the move and posted
     announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or
     know) this creator, please contact us using the e-mail address on
     Sinful_Desire_collection_profile.
***** Prologue *****
PROLOGUE
 
In this fairytale, there is no happily ever after. It is a new, darker world,
chaos reigned when the shadows of human nightmare, came into the light.
Creatures of myth and legend living amongst humans for centuries, making their
presence in the world known. A war was fought, billions of lives were snuffed
out and much knowledge was lost forever. The war raged for one hundred and
twenty-three years, overtly, and over three hundred years in secret.
 
The first government of this new world was established in ACO (After Coming
Out) 175. They were harsh to the peoples and made laws that were as
unreasonable as they were impossible to truly follow. Criminals were all put to
death upon their capture, and in this world everyone was a criminal in some way
or another.
 
In ACO 231 the first government fell. Their Oracles, those with telekinetic
powers, had been tricked into sending false prophecies about the resistance’s
plans and locations. The second government, the Archestry, made up of rebel
leaders, removed much of the old laws and put in their own. But not before they
killed or exiled the war heroes, those who had fought for the cause the hardest
and lost the most, to the Outlands. The Archestry understood the power that
these hunters in particular held among the common people and refused to be
overthrown by them or anyone else.
 
The first two laws were simple, everyone was to wear a collar from their birth
until their death. The collars had the ability to stretch but just enough for
breathing and natural growth. These collars held all of your information; how
old you were, where you went, your criminal record and even a complete
genealogy, beginning at ACO 233.
 
The second law was that everyone had to wear a color specific to what they
were. White was entirely human. Grey’s lesser inhumans, such as vampire
fledglings, and rougarou. Black meant that they were middle inhumans, like
Djinn and Gargoyles. Red’s were greater inhumans, such as Vampire elders and
Banshee. Mixed colors meant that they were stronger than the weaker color but
weaker than the second color. Blues were the Sentinalz, which were any species,
even robots, that acted as a kind of police force. The Oracles wore purple, and
finally, the Overseers, the leaders of the Archestry, wore yellow.
***** Book 1: White. *****
Once upon a time there was a young girl named Samantha. Everyone who knew her
called her lil’hood, as she always wore the little white hooded cloak her
mother had made for her. She lived with her family, in a gray brick cottage, on
the edge of the Eldo forest. For her seventh birthday, she got new socks and
shoes, some cookies from her aunt and the image of her family being murdered
ingrained in her mind forever.
 
The masked man, with their blood still on his hands, picked her up and ran from
the scene. He took her to his home where he kept her as his prisoner for
several years. When she was eleven she managed to escape him, through a window,
the man’s son had forgotten to lock. What she couldn’t escape however was the
four years of memories she couldn’t acknowledge ever happened for fear of
shattering what remained of her already fragile mind.
 
Samantha ran as fast as she could, climbed up and over the gate, and into the
forest as the Blue Sentinalz chased her. She bobbed and weaved around this tree
and through that bush. She tripped and fell to the ground. A robotic Sentinalz,
an orb with arms and a tail, flew over head, and didn’t even notice as she
crawled into the roots of a giant dead tree. Sentinalz of many species ran past
her, she held her hand over her own mouth and attempted to slow her breathing.
 
A hairy wolf like Rougarou ran by her hiding spot then stopped. He held his
nose high into the air and sniffed deeply. His head cocked down at the roots,
pale blue eyes gleaming. He started to move towards her. The Rougarou’s
movements were interrupted when another robotic Sentinal slammed into his head
and knocked him into unconsciousness. Other Sentinalz came over and picked up
the unconscious Rougarou, carrying him off deeper into the woods.
 
Samantha stayed in her hiding spot until the next morning. Sleep evaded her as
the adrenalin continued to course through her veins. Slowly she climbed out,
poking her head around the trunk of the tree. She could still see the Sentinalz
footprints. She followed them slowly, ducking behind a tree or into a bush
whenever she heard a noise. Eventually she came upon a sign, “Right to Eldo
woods. Left to Hallofalls.” She took off at full speed, all her previous
tiredness gone as she ran down the right road.
 
Just before the path suddenly veered to the right, there was a run down grey
brick house. The house had been condemned. Samantha didn’t care, she pried the
boards off of one of the back windows and crawled inside. A huge cloud of dust
exploded under her when she landed inside the house. It was dark and musty,
dark red-brown stains still covered the walls and wood floors, pictures laid
broken haphazardly scattered about. She picked one up, her short, unevenly cut,
dirty blond hair falling into her face, it was of her family, her mother trying
to keep control of a three year old her while her father had his hand on her
older brother, Dean’s shoulder. She opened the back of the frame gently and
pulled the slightly discolored picture out.
 
She looked at all the other frames in the house. All the pictures inside were
either covered in blood or torn so badly that they brought moisture to her
eyes. She ran up the creaky stairs, two at a time, and down the hallway to the
room she’d shared with her brother. She picked up a small satchel and threw it
on the bed along with some of her brother’s clothes, they should fit her well
enough. Samantha went into the bathroom and filled the sink with water. She
took a slightly dusty cloth out of the hall closet and cleaned herself up
before putting on her brother’s favorite white pair of pants and shirt. It
smelled mildewy but still faintly like her brother. She basked in his scent for
a long moment before remembering that she was being chased.
 
She walked down the narrow hallway to her mother and father’s room. Memories of
sleeping in their bed when she had nightmares and even more memories of playing
games with her father and cooking with her mother ran around her troubled mind,
bringing still more tears to her eyes. She couldn’t hold it back anymore, they
ran down her cheeks leaving wet streaks before dripping off her chin, she sat
on the bed, a cloud of dust enveloped her, and she waited for her tears to stop
clouding her vision. It took several minutes, but once she set her mind back on
her task at hand, she moved quickly and without letting her emotions overwhelm
her again.
 
Samantha went to the small chest on her mother’s dresser, in it she found all
of the jewelry her mother had. Nothing much considering her mother’s love of
beautiful things, just a few earrings and a couple bracelets. It took her a
moment to find what she was looking for, a silver necklace her grandmother had
given to her mother on her deathbed. The necklace was to be Samantha’s when she
was a woman.
 
When she put the chain around her neck and let go of the intricate three inch
long crucifix it rested between her newly forming bosom. She smiled remembering
her namesake, her strong, stubborn, powerful, grandmother. She opened the dusty
wardrobe and found her mother’s white cloak. It had beautiful silver detailing
and was sewn with magical Fae material. It grew and shrank with its wearer and
kept the wearer at a constant temperature regardless of weather or their
physical exertion.
 
Next, Samantha went to her father’s nightstand. In it she found his favorite
dagger, it had a silver and iron blade, with small groves in it for blood to
move down and away from the users hand and was made by Greoul, the most coveted
blade maker in the world. She pulled the picture out again and studied the
happy faces of her family. She knew, even at her young age what her family’s
business was, they were hunters and she would carry on their legacy, and avenge
their deaths.
***** Chapter 2 *****
She walked northwest, along a small stream, toward the city called Jalfreu.
There was an underground temple there, one where she could learn to fight the
nightmares, of her mind and the world. She kept a careful look out for the
Sentinalz. It was after sundown and if they caught her she would be imprisoned
again, only this time she wouldn’t be able to escape. The brick streets were
dirty and empty except for the occasional sound of Sentialz chasing someone
unlucky enough to be caught. She snuck through the bushes, to a place her
parents used to visit. She had to have an in, someone older who could get her
into the temple.
 
At the door to a liquor store, which was on the very edge of town, she knocked
three times in quick succession, paused, and knocked twice more. A small
opening appeared in the door; an unnaturally blue eye peered out at her. “Where
did you get that necklace?” A raspy voice that sent chills down her spine,
asked.
 
“It was my grandmother’s,” Samantha replied trying her best to hide her
discomfort, “She sings with the goddess and her disciples in the forest of the
mist.”
 
No one ever spoke of the goddess anymore, except the hunters and even then it
was in secret. She was outlawed now, which is ironic considering that the
Archestry used her as a uniting force among the resistance. Hunting, the
greatest show of your devotion to her, too was outlawed in this “better” world.
 
“What of your blood?” His voice asked, still suspicious.
 
“It runs from nothing, and through everyone,” she responded, it was a test and
she knew how important it was she respond perfectly, one word off and she would
be locked out forever. Her only chance destroyed.
 
“What of the earth?”
 
“It crumbles under my will.”
 
“What of the water?”
 
“It destroys all obstacles in my way.”
 
“What of the fire?” He asked.
 
“It burns me and all others unworthy of the Goddess.”
 
“What of the wind?”
 
“It always blows in my face, bringing the scent of my prey with it.”
 
The door opened, and she was ushered inside quickly, the door was dead bolted
behind her. Inside it smelled of mildew and tobacco smoke, the lights were on
the fritz and blinked on and off in a seemingly random pattern. He led her down
an aisle past all kind of liquors and cheap snacks, to a door in the back of
the store. The man limped slightly, his arms pulled closely to his body. He
opened the sturdy door with a small brass key. There was an enclosed courtyard,
a few trees, ten tables and it was three fourths full of people, some in white,
some in black, some in grey and even one in red.
 
Samantha walked in slowly, this many people in such a small space, made her
more nervous than the blue eyed man had. She couldn’t see any escape routes
except the now locked door she’d just entered from. The woman wearing a red t-
shirt dress smiled wickedly at her from her seat in a dark corner. The woman’s
bright red eyes and mouth full of fangs gleamed in the light. ‘Must be a
vampire elder’ She thought, ‘No way a fledgling could end up in red.’
 
The woman licked her lips and gestured to a man wearing a white shirt with a
grey stripe down the middle, white pants, and white shoes, with sunken eyes and
thin arms. He came to her and sat on her lap, she sunk her teeth deep into his
neck while her eyes still made contact with Samantha’s. He was a blood doll, no
more than food to her. It made Samantha sick, but she didn’t break eye contact
as she went to an empty table. She had been through way too much to let a
feeding vampire unnerve her. She pulled out the dagger; a sharpening stone and
some oil then began to sharpen her father’s favorite dagger. The sound the
metal made as it slid across the stone had a strangely calming affect on her.
She smiled, good memories beating the bad ones back into her subconscious.
 
She thought about her mother’s smile whenever she drew something “fridge
worthy”. The way her father’s brow would crease with deep concentration. And
she thought of her best friend, her brother, her protector, Dean. Samantha
didn’t see what happened to him, he had run upstairs to get his present for her
and hadn’t come down before she was kidnapped. She was so deep in thought that
she didn’t notice, when a man in black walked up to her.
 
“What is your name child?” he inquired.
 
She felt his eyes on her and was suspicious of his motives, but answered him
anyways, she knew he wouldn’t/couldn’t hurt her here, among all the hunters.
“Samantha,” she responded, not looking up and still working on the dagger.
 
“Why have you come here, Samantha?”
 
“To become a hunter,” she stated boldly looking up and into his dark purple
eyes.
 
“Why would you want to do that? You're still so young, so much of your life
still to live.”
 
She laughed and it caught the man off guard, “live?” She questioned, slamming
the stone on the table, “I died with my family.” Her knuckles were white; she
was holding the dagger so tight.
 
He put his hand on her shoulder in a comforting manner, but she brushed him
off. She didn’t need him to comfort her; she needed someone to train her and
take her to the temple. She cocked her head at him, challenging him to say
something else. He didn’t even step back. Just smiled at down at her.
 
“I am Bobby Singer and I will train you, young Samantha, if you wish,” He spoke
quietly but with stern conviction.
 
“I... I am most grateful,” she stuttered in mild shock, a smile plastered
itself all over her face. Samantha put her supplies back in her bag and stood.
Even standing she just barely went past Bobby’s elbow. Her journey could
finally start, she had a mentor and soon she would have the necessary skills to
take her revenge. With her pack over her shoulder, and the dagger within easy
reach, she followed Bobby back though the store and out into the night.
Please drop_by_the_archive_and_comment to let the author know if you enjoyed
their work!
