11. The Awakening

James leaped out of bed, his heart racing. Something felt horribly wrong. The screams of his mother echoed through the house, frantic and full of terror. "Thomas! Thomas!" she cried out, her voice breaking. The sound of glass shattering rang out, followed by another scream—this one filled with raw fear. His legs moved faster than he thought possible as he sprinted down the hallway toward their bedroom.

When he reached the door, the sight that met him made his stomach drop. A man stood in the room, cloaked in black, with glowing yellow eyes. He had Thomas by the neck with one hand, lifting him off the ground. Thomas was struggling, but his face was turning red, his feet barely touching the floor.

James's mother was stuck to the ceiling, blood dripping from her mouth, her eyes wide with terror. The scene ignited a burning fury in James, the intensity of his anger making his vision blur. "No!" he shouted, his voice hoarse and desperate. Without thinking, he grabbed a broken chair by his feet and swung it at the yellow-eyed man's head. The impact made a loud thud, but the man didn't flinch. He stood there, unfazed, and turned his glowing eyes on James.

Before James could even react, the man grabbed him by the neck and slammed him into the wall. Pain exploded in James's back, and everything around him spun. But he didn't care. His mind was focused on one thing: his parents needed to get out of here.

"James!" his mother screamed, her voice full of agony, the sound like a blade through his chest. The sight of her pinned to the ceiling twisted something deep inside him.

Suddenly, a blue panel appeared in front of his eyes, blocking everything else.

Words flashed across the panel, and several messages popped up:

[Witnessed a major supernatural event] .. ...

[Awakening System] .. ...

[Binding system to the host] .. ...

[Binding Successful] .. ...

[System Available for use]

James barely registered it. The words were distant, a hum in his mind. He had no time to focus on what the ability. His eyes darted around the panel, searching for anything that could help him fight back.

"Thomas!" his mother screamed again, her voice desperate. Thomas, who had been tossed aside like a rag doll, finally regained his strength. He lunged at the yellow-eyed man, but with a flick of the man's wrist, he was thrown across the room again. His body crashed into the wall with a sickening thud.

The anger inside James surged. His eyes burned with blue flames, and the yellow-eyed man froze in place, as though time itself had stopped for a moment.

"Die!" James shouted, his voice raw. He released the full force of the blue flames from his eyes. The flames shot out, searing through the air. The man let out a guttural scream, his skin blackened from the heat. James growled, pouring every ounce of his anger into the attack.

James's mother fell from the ceiling, crashing to the floor with a thump. "Emily!" Thomas shouted, rushing to her side and catching her before she hit the ground. She lay unconscious, but James barely noticed, his focus on the yellow-eyed man.

The man stumbled back, growling in fury as his body smoked. His eyes glowed even brighter now, but James could see the fear in them. Still, the man didn't back down. James prepared himself for another strike, but the weakness from his last attack made his limbs feel heavy and he felt like had lost all energy.. He knew he couldn't risk another attack like that, but he had no other option.

Before he could react, the yellow-eyed man was behind him, moving with inhuman speed.

"Sh*t!" James screamed as the man grabbed him and tossed him across the room. The force of the impact knocked the breath out of him, and everything went black.

"James!" he heard his father's voice faintly as it faded away. The last thing he felt was the cold floor beneath him before unconsciousness took him completely.

.

..

...

.....

When James opened his eyes, he found himself lying in a hospital bed. His body felt heavy and sore, bandages covering his chest and arms, while a dull ache throbbed in his head. As his blurry vision cleared, memories of that horrifying night flooded back, making his heart race.

'Sh*t... Mom, Dad,' he thought in panic.

"James, you're awake," said Kevin, his childhood friend, sitting beside the bed. James hadn't noticed him earlier because of the splitting headache.

"Kev-Kevin," James stammered, his voice cracking. "What happened to Mom and Dad?" He tried to sit up, but his body protested in pain.

"Hey, lie down! You're hurt," Kevin said, trying to stop him.

"Tell me, dammit!" James yelled, his voice raw. He ripped out the IV in his arm and swung his legs over the side of the bed, ignoring the sharp pain in his muscles.

"James, stop! You're not in any condition to get up!" Kevin pleaded, but James shoved past him, stumbling toward the door.

As he stepped into the hallway, he spotted Sarah, Mia, Nick, and Ethan sitting outside. They all jumped up, shocked to see him up and moving.

"James, wait!" Nick called out, rushing to get a nurse. "Call the doctor!"

James ignored him, his voice filled with desperation. "How's Mom? Dad? Tell me!"

The group exchanged nervous looks, avoiding his gaze. Their silence made his stomach churn.

Finally, Ethan stepped forward, his face grim. "James... go back inside. I'll tell you everything. Please, just sit down."

James clenched his fists, his chest tightening, but he obeyed, stumbling back into the room with Ethan.

Ethan sighed, his hands trembling as he spoke. "James... your parents didn't make it. They died in the fire at your house."

The words hit James like a sledgehammer. His mind went blank, and he stared at Ethan, unable to process the reality. Tears welled in his eyes, and his whole body shook as the truth sank in.

"No... no!" he whispered, tears streaming down his face. His parents, the two people who had loved him more than anyone else, were gone.

He grabbed the hospital blanket tightly, his hands shaking as the pain of their loss hit him like a punch in the chest. It was hard to breathe, and every breath felt heavier than the last. Images of his parents flashed in his mind—his mom's gentle smile, his dad's comforting voice. They were all he had, and now they were gone.

Why did this have to happen to them? Why his family? His heart filled with rage and helplessness. He wanted to scream, to fight, to do anything to bring them back. But all he could do was sit there, frozen in pain, the tears never stopping.

For the first time in his life, James felt completely alone.

As James broke down, the doctor entered the room, followed by two cops.

"Mr. Bennett," the older officer began, his badge reading Detective Anderson. His partner, a younger woman with a serious expression, stood just behind him, a small notepad in hand.

"We're very sorry for your loss," Anderson said, his voice measured and professional. "I know this is a difficult time, but we need to ask you some questions about the fire at your home. Anything you can remember might help us with the investigation."

James clenched his fists, his mind replaying the horrifying images of the yellow-eyed demon, his mother on the ceiling, and his father's desperate struggle. He wanted to scream, to tell them everything, but he knew they wouldn't believe him. Who would? And what good would it do?

The younger officer stepped forward, her voice softer. "James, we're looking for anything unusual—sounds, smells, people you might have seen. Did anything seem out of place before the fire?"

James shook his head, his jaw tightening. "I-I don't know... It all happened so fast," he stammered, his voice barely above a whisper.

Detective Anderson nodded, his tone understanding but firm. "That's okay. Sometimes, details come back later. We'll follow up with you once you've had some time to recover. In the meantime, we'll be collecting evidence from the scene. The forensics team is already working to determine the cause of the fire."

James swallowed hard, the lump in his throat making it hard to breathe. He wanted to say something, anything, but the weight of his grief kept him silent.

Before the detectives could ask another question, the door to the room opened, and Agent Rachel Myers stepped in. Her sharp eyes immediately took in the scene, and her presence commanded attention.

"That's enough," Rachel said, her voice calm but firm. She pulled out her badge and held it up. "Agent Rachel Myers, FBI. I'll be taking over here."

Detective Anderson frowned, his professionalism slipping slightly. "Agent Myers, we're just trying to gather preliminary information—"

"And I appreciate that," Rachel interrupted, her tone leaving no room for argument. "But James has been through a traumatic experience. He's in no condition to answer questions right now. The case would soon be transferred to me...I am just informing you in advance."

The younger officer glanced at Anderson, who hesitated before sighing. "We'll step back for now," he said, his voice begrudging.

Once they were gone, Rachel turned to James, her expression softening. She knelt beside his bed, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder.

"James, I'm so sorry," she said, her voice filled with genuine compassion. "I know this is overwhelming, but you're not alone. I'll do everything I can to help you through this."

James looked at her, his voice trembling. "What... what happened to them? Tell me everything."

Rachel hesitated, her usually composed demeanor faltering. "The fire started in your parents' bedroom," she said carefully. "We found your father's remains... but we couldn't find any trace of your mom. It's like she just disappeared."

James's heart clenched, and the image of his mother on the ceiling flashed in his mind. He knew exactly what had happened. That demon, the same one that had killed Sam Winchester's mother, had done this.

Rachel noticed the storm brewing in his eyes. "James," she said gently, "I know you're in pain, but you need to rest. We'll figure this out together. You're not alone in this."

But James barely heard her. His mind was consumed by one thought: revenge. He would find the monster responsible and make them pay. No matter what it took.

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