Odessa's fingertips fiddled with the rim of the coffee mug as she patiently waited for the waitress to refill the empty glass with unknown coffee grounds. The mahogany countertop was tarnished with lacerations of unidentified mishaps and discolored with dried refreshments and meals once ordered. Crumbs were scattered amongst the counter and floor. Odessa sighed heavily as the female waitress poured the invigorating caffeine in the minuscule glass. The brunette faintly thanked the woman, to which she responded with a swift nod, and brought the rim to her maroon-stained lips. She downed the beige beverage and grimaced as the inferior taste danced across her tongue.

            Her attention was directed to the surfacing images of her brother; Costello. His hazel iris' that glimmered whenever his hands came into contact with his ebony bow. He adored his choice of weaponry as did Odessa with her electrum whip. His messy, tangled raven hair that he often refused to brush, claiming his chaotic strands were his 'style'. His ivory skin that was tainted with the precise emblems Odessa's honey-shaded skin contained. Odessa often adored his dashing, wide grin that became much more infrequent as he grew older. A ghostly smile formed on her lips as she remembered her brother.

            The perception of her family's death, along with those Odessa could have considered distant relatives, effected the warrior's ability to properly function. Her sleeping patterns became irregular, along with her inefficiency to her pursue mandatory eating necessities. In her time of mourning, any classification of cuisine seemed unappealing, whereas sleeping appeared to be impracticable. Odessa began to witness her family's murder as her eyelids fluttered closed, their cries of torment and misery filled her ears. Odessa felt as if nothing was going to ease her mental ailing. Medication wouldn't necessarily be compatible with her Guardian genes, and every other recommendations seemed undesirable.

             The Organization of The Elite was no longer in services, considering it was demolished and dusted away, and Odessa lacked a community she could title 'home'. The once silk duvets she soundlessly slept in ceased to exist and the people she truly considered her home also ceased to exist. 

            Unsuccessfully, Odessa attempted to feel at ease on multiple occasions, but her diminishing motivation created a boarder between actions and thoughts. It wasn't until weeks after her loss was when she decided ceaselessly sobbing and internally scolding herself wasn't going to bring her family back from the dead. With reluctance, she trudged to the nearest convenience store and purchased the newest newspaper. 

            With the title 'Guardian' tacked to the back of Odessa's name, she felt obligated to continue her acts of heroism and independence with those who couldn't themselves, or so she believed. The acutely distressing odor radiating off the bedspreads of her motel mattress was diverting the brunette's attention, and after two hours of enduring the horrid smell, she came to the conclusion of packing her necessities to research the case she discovered days prior. 

            These series of unfortunate events brought Odessa to the town Jericho, California where a string of missing reports were filed over the course of ten years. Now, the warrior was silently perched on the stool, sipping her coffee as she re-read the newspaper multiple times. 

           Odessa inwardly groaned as she ardently flipped through the heaps of loose, color coordinated sheets of paper she organized when convincing herself she wasn't procrastinating. The mind-boggling boredom and frustration was becoming intolerable, as was the pungent aroma of eggs and sausages. With a heavy sigh, she raked her fingers through her hair once more before sealing the folder that contained the most informative sheets. Her eyes trailed the inked blotches of the handcrafted poster taped on a bulletin board, titled with 'Missing: Troy Squire' in bold, black letters atop the margin. 

            The victim's girlfriend, who Odessa hadn't bothered to remember the name of, was still parading around the small town with the bundles of poster in numerous shades. Odessa couldn't help but sympathize the desperate woman. She supposed she would've done the same if she hadn't known of the supernatural beings inhabiting the world. She furrowed her brow as two men sauntered towards the distressed woman. Odessa noticed both men were fond of using their body while speaking; shrugged shoulder, stuffed hands in pockets, and a variety of facial expressions.

           She listened intently as they spoke of the disappearance of Troy and the local legend of Centennial. Odessa's interest was peaked, and immediately gathered her belongings, determined to discover the true meaning of the Centennial.

<<>>

            Releasing a distressed sigh, Odessa fiddled with her coiled bracelet as she inched near her motel room, utterly exhausted with the prior events. She would have preferred if her bed hadn't reeked of urine and prostitution, but it would have to suffice for the time being. Her keys clashed together as Odessa swayed with each step. As she unlocked the motel door, she jerked her head, throwing the jumbles of hair away from her face. She came to a pause as she glanced off to the side, furrowing her brow as she witnessed the men from the diner.

            The taller man with shaggy hair was kneeling as he picked the lock of the motel room as his 'friend' stood guard, which was seemingly useless as Odessa could thoroughly see the actions taking place. Her grasp on the doorknob loosened as she jaunted towards the closed doorway. She rested her back against the wall, steadying her breathing to silence her presence as she hastily snuck a glimpse of inside the room. Her eyes widened as she saw the hundreds of paper plastered and hung all throughout the room. Pictures of the victims, crime scenes over the years, and photos of what Odessa could only assume was a woman in white. 

            Who's ever room this was, they had figured out what was causing all the series of deaths, and it was Constance Welch. Odessa was grateful for those men and whose room that was, they saved Odessa from plenty of unnecessary work. She'd make a mental reminder to follow the men later, after she killed Constance once again. 

            Continuing her mission, Odessa jogged away from the motel room and fastened her pace as she noticed the gathering of police officers. One of the men exited the room, and Odessa couldn't help but want to shout for him to return to the chaotic room, and she watched as two police officers questioned him. He must have said something to irk the officer with darker complexion because he was handcuffed as he was pushed down on the hood of the police car.

            If this man were a hunter, and he was working on the exact case she was, she was going to have to perform some illegal actions to set him free.

<<>>

            Odessa swiftly maneuvered around the bundles of cops as they exited the station for some dispatch call. As the crowd finally left the building and Odessa was the only one ambling in the room, she peered through each and every room, evidently unsure where the stranger was being held for questioning. The cops must have seen the motel room and assumed he was some Satan worshiper. 

            A relieved grin formed on her lips as she finally came across the room where the man was being contained. He was continually pulling at the handcuffs that was placed on his wrist. Turning the nob, she entered the room as she brought her index finger to her lips. The man raised a brow as he shamelessly peered at every inch and curve of her body. Crouching down, she pulled a bobby  pin from her hair and began working to unlock the cuffs. "I'm Odessa, by the way," She whispered as she pulled the cuffs and tossed them on the tabletop. "And I'm saving you from spending the rest of your life in jail." She jutted her chin in the direction of the door and they sprinted through the hallway, dodging the police from every corner.

            "I'm Dean, by the way, and thanks." He said, dashing to the nearest payphone. She watched as he spoke with who she assumed was the other man from the motel. He began shouting the name 'Sam' in a panic and Odessa took that as a sign took start the car she hot-wired days ago. Dean hung up the phone and understood Odessa was willing to give him a ride to save whoever Sam was.

            After a series of unsafe twists and turns, they both manged to reach the destination of Constance's home where Sam was screaming in pain from their car. Dean reached for his secured gun and began shooting at the ghost as a distraction. Multiple shots echoed throughout the once serene air and Sam pushed himself upwards, starting the car again. "I'm taking you home." He muttered. He then drove the car into the worn-down home and Odessa stared at the behind of the car with bewilderment. 

            Dean and Odessa rushed inside, Dean rushing to Sam's side and Odessa was searching for Constance with her own gun raised. Quirking a brow, the brunette watched intently as Constance examined a picture of her and her children. She threw the portrait to the floor and pushed a drawer in the direction of Sam and Dean, trapping them from their waist down.

            The warrior was ready to shoot when the lights began to flicker, which was odd considering their wasn't any electricity working in the house, and Constance looked up at the stairwell, water dripping down the stairs. "You've come home to us, mommy." Odessa couldn't help but shiver erupted by the children's eerie tone. They appeared by Constance's side and embraced her, resulting with Constance screaming in agony as she erupted into blue flames. 

            The flames then traveled to the floorboards and became a small puddle of water. Odessa sighed as she brought her gun down and rested it beside her thigh, flinching as Dean and Sam threw the drawer to the floor. They walked beside Odessa, peering down at the puddle. "So, this is where she drowned her kids."

            "That's why she could never go home."

            Odessa commented, "She was too scared to face them." She uttered, chuckling humorlessly. She glanced up at Sam. "You found her weak spot." Dean congratulated Sam, roughly slapping his chest with force. 

           Sam laughed in pain, shaking his head at his brother. "I wish I could say the same for you. What were you thinking shooting Casper in the face, you freak?"

            "Hey, saved your ass. I'll tell you another thing, if you screwed up my car, I'll kill you."

            Odessa chuckled, walking around the car and cluttered mess. "Where you going?" She heard Sam ask. She came to a halt and peered over her shoulder, "Off to save lives, of course. Call me if you ever need help." She said, patting the leather pockets of her skin-tight jeans, almost as if the smug grin and motions were signifying something hidden in context. Her shoes click against the floorboards as she becomes a blur of nightfall. Dean stuffed his palm in his jacket for warmth, only to be greeted with crumbled paper tickling his fingertips. He swiftly unfolded the paper, lips moving wordlessly as he chuckled, a ghostly grin arising. 

            There written with elegantly with black marker was Odessa's number, along with a suggestive wink. 

(A/N: I'm actually really disappointed with my writing in this chapter but I couldn't wait another day to upload it, so please, excuse my terrible writing at the end. I'm half-asleep and hungry, so that's probably why. 

Next chapter will be much better. I'll edit this one tomorrow. Bye! And thank you for reading my story. Any grammar mistakes, please notify me by commenting :))