missmara13

Okay, well, here it is, the prologue for 'Black Friday', my Supernatural/The OC/Buffyverse/One Tree Hill crossover. It begins to set things up, introduces the mythos of Black Friday a bit... I hope this story lives up to the hype I've been giving it... lol

Prologue + War Drums

25 Miles North of Denver, Colorado
March 12th, 2005 - 1:45am

Dean Winchester lit the gasoline that soaked the body, then ducked as a very angry and not yet released spirit came after him. The one problem, he'd found, with hunting alone was that there was no one to distract the ghost while the dirty work was done. He had no one to watch his back, no one to fire rock salt at the thing when Dean's rifle locked up. Just as he was about to give up and run for it, the fire did it's job and the ghost disappeared with a scream. "Real nice knowing you," he muttered under his breath as he tried to figure out what went wrong with his rifle.

"You always manage to escape, don't you?"

Dean's head jerked up at the voice, and saw a girl with black eyes staring at him from nearby. "What do you want?" he demanded, bringing the gun up.

"You're joking right?" the girl said. "This body could kill you with her little finger even without my help." It laughed, admiring it's hands then looking up at Dean with a smirk. "I'm here to deliver a message from my daddy and his creator."

"Demons have a god?"

"We have the mother and father of all our kind," the thing inside the girl said. "And both daddy and it want you to know, you're going to lose, Dean. We will win, because the balance demands that good lose for once. Do-gooders like you have thrown it all out of wack, and that means it's our turn."

"If you think you're scaring me, you're really stupid," Dean said.

"Don't be scared, Dean, this isn't a warning. It's just... a sign of respect. We're giving you a heads up that it's our turn, so you can step down from the fight now before you have to die just like Sammy and your daddy..."

"Fuck off, bitch," Dean said, firing the formerly jammed rifle and hitting the thing full in the chest.

"I was done with this whore anyway," the demon said before leaving the body, which then collapsed.

Dean crouched down next to the girl, guilty for the pain she must be in when he saw how her chest rose and fell. "I'm sorry..."

"I'm free..." she whispered. "Thank you..." she added before taking one last breath and stilling, eyes wide and bright green.

Dean reached out and closed her eyes, then turned and grabbed his shovel so he could dig her grave. The poor girl deserved that much.

Newport Beach, California
March 12th, 2005 - 12:45am

Kirsten Cohen woke to an odd sound coming from the nursery attached to the master bedroom, and got up to investigate. It was late, but still a little too early for Sophie Rose to want her late night feeding. She slowly got up and walked to the doorway, peering in and seeing a man's figure near the crib. "Don't wake her, Sandy," she said with a smile. The only response was a snore from the bed.

Kirsten froze, then slowly turned to look at the bed, where Sandy lay on his side, asleep. She whipped back around to the figure standing over her daughter's crib and opened her mouth to scream, eyes wide, as the man turned and smiled sinisterly, eyes glowing yellow. "Who are you?" she whispered, barely a whisper.

The man smiled. "Close your eyes, it'll be over quick for you," he said sinisterly.

Kirsten opened her mouth to scream but felt as though her voice had been stolen as suddenly she was shoved against the wall and pulled up it until she was on the ceiling, staring down as a burning pain lanced through her chest and she finally managed a scream as it spread across her skin. She heard Sandy yell, and then things went mercifully black and silent.

Silent, that is, except for the whisper...

"It's nothing personal, but you make him strong, and I just can't have that."

Sunnydale, California
March 12th, 2005 - 12:45am

Faith Lehane woke with a start, wondering what the hell was with that dream. Screaming people, four shadowy figures she couldn't make out but knew were the four heroes, the four people needed to stop something bad. As she thought about it, she heard Buffy's voice in the kitchen, and shook her head, figuring it out. Buffy, Giles, Xander, and Willow must be the four heroes. Who else could it be but those four? They were going to save the day from the First, no worries. Everything would be Five by five.

At the same time, something seemed to whisper and tickle at the back of her mind, something that laughed and told her that she was wrong, they weren't the four, the four hadn't even met yet, and they would fight something else, something just as frightening as The First, but somehow... worse.

And that thought was enough to drive any thought of sleep from Faith's body as she slowly got up and headed for the bathroom, figuring she could catch a midnight shower and actually get the hot water for once.

"My son may just make me look like your best friend," the dead deputy mayor said from in front of Faith. "He doesn't like anyone messing with me, and you better hope I win and you all die quick deaths, because my son will torture you for millennia."

"Oh, does he have mommy issues?" Faith replied sarcastically.

"Faith?" Xander called as he appeared in the hallway. "Who were you...?"

Faith glanced back at where the Deputy Mayor had been a moment ago, then sighed. "First decided to give me some shit. Don't worry, I'm not gonna fall for it or turn evil or anything."

"Good to know, and always good to hear from you again," Xander said with a smile.

Faith smirked and continued her path to the bathroom, mulling over what she'd just been told and whether she should tell the others.

Tree Hill, North Carolina
March 12th, 2005 - 3:45am

Brooke Davis giggled to herself as she stumbled into the bedroom of her best friend, Peyton Sawyer. "P. Sawyer!" she called loudly in a sing song voice, more than a little drunk. "You missed out on a great party, I can't believe you didn't show!" Brooke said as she flopped down on the bed beside the Peyton shaped lump. "Come on, you can't be sleeping through this!" she pressed, shoving Peyton's shoulder and still not getting a response. "Peyton!"

When there still wasn't any response, Brooke reached out and grabbed the top of the comforter, slowly pulling it down and finding Peyton was awake and looking at her, an odd sort of smile on her face. "Scare me, why don't you," Brooke said. "I thought some psycho serial killer got you."

"Not quite," Peyton said, blinking. When her eyes opened again, they were completely black and her smile grew.

"What...?" Brooke asked, instinct telling her to get away.

"Sorry, Brooke," Peyton said, her voice somehow both her own and someone else's. "We can't have your kind getting in the way of our father. He wants a clear path."

"Peyton?" Brooke asked, terrified, as Peyton got up and sauntered towards her, a knife glinting in her hand.

"And a sacrifice of blood, especially your blood? Oh it'll make some very, very happy," Peyton said before lunging forward, her knife slicing the air towards Brooke's throat.

Brooke ducked aside and felt a shot of pain as the knife sliced into her shoulder and collar bone, going in deep but nowhere fatal. "What are you doing?!" she screamed, darting for the door with one hand clutching at her wound. She got into the hall with the Peyton close behind.

"Hold still and I'll make it quick," Peyton said.

"Why are you doing this?" Brooke asked.

"For my father," Peyton said. "We can't have you joining up with the others, getting in our way. He's taking care of the seer and the protector himself, and I get you. But if I make him proud enough, if I imbue myself with your essence, your lifesblood, I may just get to take out the slayer bitch, too. It's so... exciting."

"Peyton..." Brooke sobbed as she backed away, stopping only went she bumped into the staircase railing. "Please..."

"Please..." Peyton mocked. "Please die," she continued with a growl before charging.

Brooke dropped to the floor as Peyton ran straight into the railing and through it, crashing down the stairs. Then, to Brooke's complete horror, she got up, sneering and angry.

"Bitch!" Peyton yelled.

Brooke ran back to Peyton's room, wedging a chair under the doorknob and yanking open the window to get out even as she heard Peyton get to the door, the wood creaking as she pulled with strength Brooke had never seen before. As the wood began to splinter, Brooke climbed out, screaming as her bad arm banged into the window frame. She barely registered as it went quiet behind her, too busy trying to ignore the pain and scooting to the edge of the roof before jumping.

As her feet hit the ground, one ankle twisting painfully, the front door burst open and Peyton was there, nostrils flaring with rage. "Now you're pissing me off, Brooke!"

"Fuck you!" Brooke screamed before she took off running, stumbling from the pain in her shoulder and ankle and screaming for someone, anyone to help her. But no one came out of the dark houses.

"Stop making this more difficult for yourself!" Peyton yelled.

Brooke kept running, somehow finding the strength not to collapse until she saw the police car doing standard patrol. "Help me!" she screamed, and was rewarded by their lights coming on and the car whipping around. Brooke turned to see where Peyton was, but didn't see her anywhere. When the police came up behind her, one of them put his hands on her shoulders to turn her around and she screamed, thinking it was Peyton and turned, landing a punch that knocked the man down. The other cop grabbed her, pinning her arms and shoving her to the ground as she kept screaming.

End Of Prologue