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Šassūrātu IV

Before they knew it, twenty minutes had elapsed from their one hour deadline. While it may have been fast, only Irwin knew how much work and decisions had been done in the process.

Sam had been called in, as well as Scott, Garth, and Gordon. While the other half of the Winchesters would be arriving within half an hour, the other three would only arrive in the morning; but even that was enough to boost the morale of the other hunters.

While Dean and Bobby were surprisingly in good mental and physical condition, Ellen had been somewhat dour for the entire twenty minutes. She had talked to her daughter after Irwin ordered Scott and Garth, the contents of their conversation was not obvious–she had taken the phone with her into the stairwell–but the way her mood improved after the call had assured Irwin that Ellen was going to be useful in the succeeding fight.

Yes, they were going to fight, albeit after their reinforcement had arrived. He knew that they initially had three days before the Kesh ritual began and Linda's newborn would be sacrificed to the Great Matron, although that time table may have moved after killing three of the Servant Sisters.

Still, the Kesh ritual would take seven days, which meant that they had ample time to prepare. That would also mean that he would be leaving his investment–in the form of Congressman Anthony Brown–inside of a home full of monsters.

It wasn't ideal and it certainly frustrated Irwin, but he knew that he was in a delicate situation. Their only saving grace was Suzianna, whose intentions were unknown and, frankly, unfathomable to Irwin.

Escaping the apartment building was easy enough to do, what with the fire alarm blaring around the block. Irwin and the others had to climb down the fire escape, while the Servant Sisters prevented the first responders from entering the apartment or outright kill them and hide their bodies; That wouldn't be a challenge to them either, seeing as they could use their magik or Anthony's status. 

Driving away in the black 1967 Chevy Impala amidst an ocean of red, white, and blue, Dean drove around the city before settling on a burger joint three blocks away from the apartment. Close enough that he was still within the radius of his Ruler's Demacraction, which had been crucial during the successive fights.

The moment all four of them sat down on the bench, their bodies collectively relaxed their taut muscles. Ellen slumped down and banged her head on the table while Bobby nearly broke the corner of the table in a sudden fit of rage. It was a good thing that there were barely any customers in as Irwin released all his pent up stress in the form of his raging magical energy, otherwise they would be throwing up their meal by now.

"You guys want to order?" Dean asked, quite at ease despite his initial outburst at being betrayed by Suzianna. "What? I'm starving."

He scooched over to leave the bench and took their orders. The older hunters ordered something light in fear of throwing it up mid-fight while Irwin and Dean had meals that filled their stomach.

After their meal, which by Irwin's current standard, pale in comparison to Linda's cooking, it had become apparent to all four of them that they would be fighting more than four pagan gods come daylight.

Sure, they would have reinforcements with arguably better weapons and knowledge than them, but it would still be tougher than anything all four have done in their lives–save, of course, Irwin.

'I think I've been in this exact situation… twice? In the last six months,' A thought that made him outwardly chuckle.

"What's so funny, kid?" Ellen asked.

"Nothing. I just… I have a bomb, a magic one, that could potentially solve our problems," He alluded to the Artificial Soul Bomb with a wry smile, "But, then, if I use that… I'm gonna have to find another politician to save and be on Homeland Security's watchlist for the next ten years for suspected domestic terrorism."

"Jesus." Dean was taken aback. "That's what you're thinking? Bombing that fucking building. Let's calm down, George Bush."

Irwin shrugged his shoulders, "Last resort. Anyway, what's the plan?"

"I would've thought you'd have one by now." Bobby remarked.

"I have, but you wouldn't like it." Irwin chuckled.

Bobby shot a look at Ellen, who shrugged hesitantly. He sighed and nodded, "Give it to us, then."

●●Suzianna●●●

Who would have thought that she, of all goddesses, would supplant the centuries-long collective dream of the Sassuratu when the culmination of their work would bear fruit in the coming days? Not even the greatest seer of Apollo nor the triad of fate could foresee such a deplorable–in her mind–event.

In fact, even she was only made aware of the reneging of her duty when the distraught faces of Richard Greythorne and his companion, Ellen Harvelle, were right in her face.

She had pitied mortals before, granted them blessing in ways their puny mind could never imagine, and, once in a while, lay with their champions in the hope of campaigning worship and adoration with which their kin stake their lives for. Yet that minor sensation came with aforethought degradation on the part of the mortal, whether they knew it or not.

The one she gave to the four hunters was mired in the flux of love and morality, an abstract combination that left her fumbling in the dark and hoping for the best.

The best, as it turned out, was nothing more than a stern talking to by her remaining sisters. Although she had been the chronological eldest, Mamu could stop her thoughts and enchant her body to the point of destruction with but a thought while Ninšar could slice her to pieces before she could even touch the tip of her sister's tongue.

Her strength lay in her ultimate purpose: the rebirth of the Great Matron.

What she didn't expect, however, was the mortal liaison of the Great Matron undertaking the responsibility of judging her for her actions.

She had stood in silence as she was berated by an ignoble demigod chattering about the importance of the coming days when she wasn't even born when the Great Matron left existence.

'Not that we were there, too.'

She was now in her room, forbidden by her sisters to leave the room while they dealt with the damage done by the hunters.

She was frustrated beyond relief, but was nevertheless relieved that giving the hunters an hour of reprieve before reporting their whereabouts had been…

"Suzie, baby, what are you thinking?" Her beloved asked as he caressed the small of her back.

Anthony Brown had been the man who had found her when she had been disillusioned to the greatness of their cause and the sacrifices to be made to its end.

Yet she had thrown him away once it was clear that Linda, her so-called best friend, was bearing a female child. One that had the spirit and body to host their master and creator.

"Nothing, my love." She smiled lovingly. "Just sad to see you go again. Treating me like a stress ball."

"Well, you do have these fun bags." He jiggled her heavy breasts, eliciting a playful grunt from her.

"Stop it. Just go." She sighed exasperatedly, pushing him out of her room. 

Anthony shrugged his shoulders as he finished buttoning his shirt, the smell of his skin still wafting throughout the room coupled with their combined sweat from their most recent activities

She sighed as she trudged naked towards the sink next to the small bathroom. Sighing once again, now fixated on her miniscule apartment studio. She had once been housed in the grandest of castles, bathed in ambrosia and blood of virgins, and had fed only the purest of souls.

"Yet now… now I use the fucking radiator when it's too fucking cold." She mocked herself, not because her lifestyle had been denigrated into triviality but because she was alright with it.

In fact, if not for the Demigod and her fellow sisters having assumed control of their housing, she would enjoy a tiny cottage in the woods of the Old World. Far from their control and perception, away from the expectation of her duty and sacred purpose.

"Just Tony and I… alone." She muttered under her breath as she fixed the faucet to a stop before dumping her hand into the cold water.

Just as the water hit her face, a familiar voice rang out within the room.

"Do you know how cliche it is for a mistress to fall in love with her successful affair? Darling, I can name four movies with that tune."

Does anybody else have trouble accessing Inkstone on a normal chrome window? I needed to sign-in on an Incognito one, which Pavlov'd my entire brain into thinking we were going to do something else. Now, I'm sad that we have to write.

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