Supernatural: Reincarnated into the Hunt

The pen scratched across the paper as the man sat at a wooden desk, writing quickly. The room was dim, lit only by a single bulb that flickered now and then. Every detail of James and Ash's accident—the snapping cables, the flying logs, the swerving car—was written down as if the man was describing fate itself.

James' desperate shout to Ash, the failure of his shield, and the final, tragic crash—all of it was laid out on the page. The man's hand moved without pause, his focus unshaken, as he described James' last moments: blood pooling under him, the soft sound of Careless Whisper playing on the cassette, and the eerie stillness after the chaos.

Just as he finished writing, the room's temperature dropped. The flickering light dimmed further. Suddenly, a figure appeared—a man dressed entirely in black, his face hidden, and his glowing silver eyes cutting through the darkness. The man at the desk kept writing, unaware of the figure's presence until a deep voice broke the silence.

"Chuck, I know you are there."

The man—Chuck—froze. He slowly turned toward the voice, his eyes wide with fear. He stammered, nearly falling off his chair.

"W-who—how did you get in here?" he asked, his voice shaking.

Before the figure could reply, the room started to grow brighter. The light intensified with every passing second until it was blinding. Another figure appeared, glowing with golden light. It was an archangel, his wings spreading wide, and his golden armor gleaming. His voice was commanding as he stepped forward.

"Leave, creature," the archangel said. "You are not welcome here."

But before he could say more, the man in black moved in a blur. He grabbed the archangel by the face and crushed it with ease. The archangel didn't even have time to scream. His body disintegrated into tiny particles of light, disappearing as though he had never been there.

The man in black turned back to Chuck, his tone cold. "I don't have time for this."

Chuck, who had been trembling moments ago, suddenly straightened up. His fear was gone, replaced by a calm and detached look. He leaned back in his chair, studying the man in black.

"Well," Chuck said with a smooth voice, "let's talk somewhere else, shall we?"

With a snap of his fingers, the room vanished. Chuck and the man in black were suddenly floating in the middle of space, far from Earth. Stars glimmered around them, and galaxies stretched out in every direction.

Chuck stayed silent for a moment, then finally asked, "Why are you here?"

The man in black's glowing eyes focused on Chuck. "You know why I'm here. Don't test me."

Chuck smirked. "You've gotten arrogant. Did you forget how you begged me to save your brother? You were nothing then."

The man in black said nothing. He raised his fist, dark energy swirling around it. The energy was so intense that it seemed to eat the light around them. Chuck, refusing to be intimidated, raised his own fist, golden energy radiating from it like the sun.

They moved apart, putting distance between them. The power around their fists grew stronger, warping the space between them. Stars trembled and bent out of shape, their light twisting unnaturally.

Then, without warning, they launched themselves at each other. Their fists collided with a massive force, and the clash sent shockwaves rippling through space. The very fabric of reality cracked and shattered, pieces of space-time breaking apart like glass before reforming.

For a few moments, they remained locked in place, each trying to overpower the other. Then, the impact threw them both backward. The man in black staggered back only a few steps, while Chuck was hurled far away, spinning out of control. When he stopped, he floated nearly a hundred paces from where he started.

Chuck laughed, though it was strained. "You've gotten stronger."

The man in black stood firm, his voice steady. "I'm not here to waste time. Leave James out of your manipulations, or face the consequences."

Chuck's smirk faltered for a moment. His face grew tense, but he tried to play it off. "So, what? You're going to come here every time James is about to die? That's a lot of work for one mortal."

The man in black shook his head. "If he dies because of his own choices, then so be it. But if I see even the smallest sign of your interference, I will destroy you."

Chuck stayed silent for a long moment, his expression unreadable. Finally, he sighed and said, "Fine. I'll reverse his death. But don't think this is over."

"Do it. Now," the man in black said firmly.

Chuck waved his hand. Time began to rewind. The accident played out in reverse: the logs flew back onto the truck, the smashed car was restored, and James was alive again, sitting unharmed in his seat. They passed the truck without any incident, and the road was quiet once more.

The man in black watched, satisfied. He turned back to Chuck. "This is your only warning. Stay out of his life."

With that, he vanished, leaving Chuck floating alone in the endless void. The Creator, once so confident, now looked shaken. He stared at the spot where the man in black had stood, his calm facade cracking.

"This isn't over," Chuck muttered, his voice quiet and uncertain.

--

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The road stretched ahead quietly as James and Ash passed the truck safely. The sound of its engine faded in the distance. James kept his hands tight on the steering wheel, his jaw clenched. Beside him, Ash looked over with curiosity.

"Alright, man, what's up?" Ash asked, breaking the silence. "Why were you acting so weird back there? You looked like you'd seen a ghost or something."

James didn't look at him. "Just a bad feeling, Ash. Better safe than sorry."

Ash frowned but let it go. "Fine, but seriously, you need to relax. That kind of paranoia's gonna make me old, and I'm way too good-looking for that."

James let out a small laugh despite himself. "Better you than me."

The rest of the drive was quiet until they pulled up at Caleb's place—a small, worn-down cabin surrounded by thick trees. Caleb, an old friend and ally, opened the door with his usual grumpy attitude.

"You're late," he grumbled, handing over a few fake IDs and bags of supplies. "Anything else, or can I get back to my nap?"

"This is plenty," James said, sliding the IDs into his pocket. "Thanks, Caleb. I owe you one."

"You owe me more than one, Winchester," Caleb replied, though his tone wasn't unfriendly.

James and Ash didn't stay long. Once they had their supplies, they hit the road again, heading toward Harvelle's Roadhouse. Ellen's bar was a popular meeting spot for hunters, and they needed to share information about their last hunt.

---

The bar was quiet when they arrived. Jo stood behind the counter, cleaning a glass with more force than necessary. When she spotted James and Ash, she turned away, ignoring them completely.

Ash smirked at James. "Looks like someone's still mad at you."

James sighed, rubbing his forehead. "Great. Just what I needed."

He walked up to the counter, smiling nervously. "Hey, Jo. I'm ready to take you with me… you know… but I don't think Ellen would agree. She might kill me if I tried."

Jo didn't even look at him. "Hilarious, James. Truly. Save your jokes for someone who cares."

Ash chuckled from the side, earning a glare from James. Turning back to Jo, James tried again. "Alright, fair enough. Look, I'm sorry about—"

"Save it," Jo interrupted, slamming the beer bottles down on the counter. "Its not your fault anyways."

James sighed, taking the beer on the counter as he gave up trying to convince Jo. Ash was smiling all the while without saying anything.

As they sipped their beers, a few hunters gathered around, curious about their latest hunt.

"So, what happened out there? How did the babysitting go?" one of the hunters asked, leaning on the counter.

James and Ash exchanged a look. They had already agreed not to mention James's abilities. "Yeah," James said casually. "We ran into quite a few spirits in that old manor off Route 12. Angry ones too. Took us all night to salt and burn their remains."

Ash jumped in, grinning, his tone fully submerged in sarcasm. "You should've seen James, though. Guy's a machine with a shotgun. He barely took down one spirit while I was kicking ass of more than three spirits."

The hunters laughed, and James rolled his eyes. "Maybe you are still drunk. Let me make you sober," he said while holding the beer in his hand as if he was about to hit Ash's head.

"Its okay, dude. Not everyone gets it right on their first try" Ash said, grinning wider. "But seriously, it was bad. That place was crawling with spirits."

He kept the hunters entertained with their story, carefully leaving out anything supernatural about James. Even Jo, though still annoyed, seemed interested as she listened from behind the counter.

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