Honey Badger. The Death Of The Filial Obedient Son.

Bela cackled quietly in response to my slightly sharp, prickly remark. She didn't seem irritated, and her skin appeared thicker than thin. She remained seated throughout our conversation.

After a sweet and cute laugh, she replied, her attention fixed on me, "I don't mind making friends if you want to. I'm all about making new friends, sure… So, how are we doing this? Do you want my number or something? I'm only in town for a few days."

The age difference between us was fixed now that I had established that I did not want any romantic relationships, and she relaxed. I was a very attractive young man, so it was uncommon that women would harshly reject me without giving it any consideration. Especially when it was only about the kind of non-physical relationship that was respectful, safe and harmless for them.

I was a popular schoolkid and had many connections and friends back home in Nebraska as a result of this and other factors. I was a magnet for desirable women, and guys wanted to be near me in order to score with some of them.

"Yes, give me your number for now, and I'll give you a call. Where are you from? Your accent seems a bit British to me." I responded, unconcerned that she would give me a false one or ignore my phone call. If she did, it will be her loss, not mine.

The woman was scheduled to go to hell in five years. I was now supernaturally leeching on a demon, so maybe I'd have a way out for her in the future. I was not going to throw her this kind of hint, though.

She replied to me in a comfortable and cheerful tone, taking a sip from her drink, "My accent's like this because I'm half British and half American. I'm originally from Jackson, Mississippi, although I spent some time growing up in the United Kingdom."

After I nodded in thinking, she asked her own question, "What about you, where you from?"

I abandoned my thoughts and replied, "I'm just an ordinary, tall kid from Nebraska. However, I moved to a nearby city yesterday. Beacon Hills... Ever heard of it?"

She nodded at me and continued, sucking her straw, "Beacon Hills? Of course. It's difficult not to hear about it when the city grows richer and larger at such a quick pace year after year… Though, if you live there, you must be a little loaded."

I didn't refute it, but rather replied, "Yes and no… True that it's a city for the more successful individuals, particularly in terms of banking-related career opportunities, but real estate and necessities such as food are less expensive than here. Getting any other type of job is not difficult, especially for young people. Don't trust all you see about it online."

Beacon Hills already had the reputation of being a wealthy town without troubles, similar to Malibu and San Diego, with a size that was naturally a hundred times larger due to the strange nature of this universe, in which continents and the globe itself appeared to expand without people realizing.

"Is that actually the case? I'd only read articles about it and never investigated further... I might have a serious look at it then, since I'm currently looking for work." Bela told me with a gleam of interest in her eye.

I grinned inside, knowing what kind of work she was presumably doing based on the information her details provided, but I didn't ask.

Instead, I said, "Sounds amazing to me. If you ever come to town, give me a ring. I'll call you tomorrow until that day."

"No problem."

We talked for a few seconds longer before I left her in the sitting area where I spotted her and walked to my table to sit with Molly.

It was true that being wealthy, affluent, and privileged made it easier for me to engage in these types of conversations with young ladies trying to figure out their lives. To be honest, the type of person and background I had made it possible for me to have this kind of conversation with most people who had some level of ambition or curiosity.

Beacon Hills was a dynamic community providing opportunities for entrepreneurship, self-development, and career advancement for people of all ages, demographics, and backgrounds. I had checked a lot of things about it in the previous couple of days, even neglecting to call my girlfriend more than once a day because of it.

While I was thinking, waiting for the food to arrive, Molly couldn't hold back her curiosity and asked, "Who was that? Did you hit on her?"

She had a sly, provocative smile on her face, like an aunt catching her nephew attempting to be smooth and slick with cute young women. 

Women enjoyed gossip, love, and sexy things; Molly was no exception, despite being a ghost.

I replied honestly, after some reflection, thinking of methods to further fill in the chasms between us and offer her new compelling reasons to not go to the afterlife, "Just a very pretty girl... I don't know, though... Would you give me dating tips if I tried flirting with her? I got her phone number so we can start hanging out someday."

She stopped sounding eager to help and fun-loving, but still remained interested in the subject, "Of course, I'd be happy to help… At least, if I hadn't already heard you had a girlfriend? How about that girlfriend, huh?"

She was quite interested in the response and puzzled with me. Gleefully and provocatively so. Almost merrily.

Her mature tone of voice seemed as if she was on a mission to catch a cheater or learn about a not-so-perfect love relationship… She and her facial expression suddenly sounded like a shrewd, semisoft gossipy detective woman on the front lines of a good-looking criminal investigation, but she also sounded empathetic and supportive of me and appeared to be on my side of the story. She came off a lot like a romantic psychotherapist.

I giggled at her facial expression and shift of tone, conveying that I was not guilty of what she was thinking, "Hold your horses there. I'm innocent. I'm not married, and I'm not a cheater... I only want to be friends because she sounds nice, so don't stare at me like this? I promise, I'm not the type of guy to do that."

She asked me with a scowl, sounding both relieved and strangely and amusingly disappointed, "Really? You reached out to such a beautiful young woman only to make friends? How old do you think I am?"

Her scowl deepened, suspecting me intently, searching for the truth with a contemptuously condescending grin. 

I had to face the fact that the entire affair would strike most people as unbelievable and like a ludicrous story that would be fed to young children. Yet it was the truth.

I nodded and responded with one of my favorite lines, "Yes, obviously... What else? Is it forbidden for a good boyfriend to hang out with attractive women? Get your mind out of the gutter, can you?"

I knew it was difficult to believe, but this was the way things were with me, and Izzy was accustomed to it by now. At times, even she sounded unhappy that I didn't try to do more with women who even she found appealing and prompted her to doubt her sexuality since they were so breathtakingly beautiful.

Most of those women had ceased being friends with me throughout the years because they believed I was manipulating their hearts by being overly loyal to my fiancée. I didn't want to waste their time and understood their concerns, so I let them all go and got rid of their phone numbers.

I had to confess that what I was doing was harsh and primarily feeding my own romantic ego that I wanted to satisfy, but at least I was a faithful relationship partner who did not cheat... In every connection and whatever relationship I had, loving or not, I strictly abided to the most fundamental and core rules.

This was something I was proud of in my life and did not intend to change… A thing I was grateful for was to have an understanding girlfriend by my side who accepted my social habits and other activities, so I was happy with my life. 

Izzy didn't have trust issues, which would never have worked for me or our relationship. I was too outgoing and desperate to shine in the world for her to have those.

———

(Lara Croft POV)

Back in Beacon Hills, Simon's mother was on the phone. With another woman named Pamela Barnes. She was one of Lara Croft's closest pals in the world. The best friend among them. She resided in Tennessee and was one of the first people to meet Lara when she arrived in America.

She was Simon's mother before god and the church and a clairvoyant who largely gave information, having a close friendship with a hunter named Bobby Singer. Being a psychic did not preclude anyone from practicing religion, even Christianity… Although she wasn't really a serious Christian, like Lara was not either.

Both women were well-versed in magic and Wiccan practices. Or even Hoodoo. They knew far more knowledge about these than they first-hand put into practice on their own.

Both of them were kidding around for a bit when Lara received another phone call, a sudden one on the same line, prompting her to tell Pamela, "I'll call you back in a minute. I'm receiving a call from John."

"What does he want at this hour?" Pamela inquired with concern.

Lara shrugged and responded, "How should I know? He recently returned from Africa, so it's most likely about that honey badger bones thingie again... Let's hope he didn't try to do what I suggested to him after he asked without giving me a chance to give him sound advice... You heard how he doesn't like to listen, haven't you? He doesn't even trust the witches I refer him to and prefers to stick to his own."

Pamela replied, "Honey badger bones? What about those?" 

The words of Lara Croft had gotten her confused and curious. She didn't understand whatever she was talking about. The phone call was switched before she could find out about whatever dark matter was involved here.

Minutes later, her friend didn't tell her what had transpired, but she did have some horrible news for her and the entire hunter community that knew Dean Winchester.

He died naked in an old witch's bathroom.