Dean Winchester's plan was simple: find the bastards that killed his little brother and make them pay for what they had done. To do so, he decided to secude Castiel Novak, a gay accountant at Novak Industries.
There was nothing left for him but rev...
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March 25, 2019
A little girl around four years old was squealing in excitement. She was sitting on a swing that swung high in the air. The man that was pushing her wore a fond smile, pushing her to an extent where he felt like his daughter was safe. Her light blonde hair fell over her shoulders and her green hazel eyes shone with excitement, the color even more intense due to the dawn that caused the sky to glow with multiple colors.
They were just like her father's.
Dean was watching from a distance, leaning against a tree. Rose Samantha Winchester was her original name. Even though he was happy that the doctors had been able to save the baby, he couldn't look her in the eye. She was an exact replica of his brother when he was younger. He just couldn't. So, he had named her and given her up for adoption. Lafitte was her last name now.
Benny and Andrea Lafitte had been unable to have kids and Dean had secretly checked their background story before giving consent. He knew the little girl would grow up nice, But checking up on her once in a while was the least he could do.
He turned around, leaving behind his niece. The sound of her excited squeals echoed through his head, which made things harder for him. Not that the last four years were easy.
Dean had been left all alone in a mad world and he lived his life in isolation; seeking revenge for his brother's death. There wasn't a night where the twenty-nine years old man didn't try to drink away the pain, but even that he became immune to. He had never shown up at the garage after the terrorist attack and had only listened to one worried voicemail of Bobby, before deleting and blocking the number.
The anger inside him was bottling up. At first, he ran for hours, every day, trying to forget about the images gritted his mind. When that stopped working, he went to the gym afterwards. Not only did he work on his physique and did he push his feelings away, he also developed knowledge about the terrorist group that had attacked that night. They were called the Devil's Cage. He went to a shooting range once a week and did research once he got home. That's how he developed a new rhythm: wake up, run, eat, gym, research, eat and go to the shooting range at night.
Through YouTube, and later on anonymous connections, he learned how to get access on TOR, the dark web. He also used a VPN to shield his IP address to the best of his ability. This way, he had access to documents that were more useful and also did he discover his deepest desire spread out right in front of him.
Assassins could be hired and paid for their deeds.
In his state of bottled up rage, it seemed like it became all he thought about. Murder. He wasn't just tracking down the Devil's Cage anymore; he became an anonymous hitman. It was the only thing keeping him sane, for as far as he still was. He had killed a total of twenty three people to get payed, none of which had ever been found or lead back to him. He remembered how he had put poison in his first victim's champagne, and offing the second by shooting him through the head as a sniper. The third victim had 'overdosed' and the fourth had been stabbed in an alley. Cops and FBI had been looking for him, but he became dust in the wind, leaving no trace.
