Summary - From when they were first made by god ,Thursday and Friday were an
unstoppable team but when Friday betrayed his brother, the twins fought, On
the brink of death Friday was slammed into heavens prison never to see light
again. Friday breaks out from his cell centuries after, seeking revenge on his
brother Cas...to kill his new loved ones. Sam and Dean
No flames please but i would love to hear what you have to say in the comments!
One of the first fanfics on Deviantart
The sun was blaring down on various tents of all different shapes and sizes along the dig central camp-site. A number of skilled archaeologists sent to north eastern Brazil to search for an ancient civilization that was believed to be lost from history. Well, until some locals on a hiking trip had one day stumbled across some objects and artifacts that dated centuries. A team was soon put together and the dig site that spanned for miles was cornered off.
Sweat dripped down Jayson’s face and off the tip of his nose. He grabbed his earlier thrown off dirty shirt and dabbed his forehead. He threw his trowel on the ground below him. He was sick of the heat, sick of being there for weeks and not finding anything sick of the dashed hope and disappointment that filled the humid air around camp. They really need a win here, something…anything to get peoples spirits up again but Jayson couldn’t see that happening, this whole ordeal seemed like a wild goose chase. He groaned rubbing his eyes and sat down with a thud, dust lifting as he did, catching in his throat making him cough.
As the dust settled back onto the dry ground a gleam caught Jayson’s eye. He rushed over on his knees and started to dig and dust away, the small object that stuck above the ground and started to grow as he dug further into the ground. Jason couldn’t believe his eyes. He gasped as he stumbled to his dehydrated feet. It was…stunning. The most beautiful thing he had ever seen. Below him laid a hilt of a sword, the handle was long and detailed; at the tip of the swords was a modeled crest of a lion, eagle and buck head. Lower down lion paws seem to grip the sword and eagle wings acted as a hilt. Just below the hilt ,Through the dust and dirt the blade shone platinum. Jayson couldn’t help himself; he bent and slowly reached to grab hold of the sword. Just before touching the sword he pulled back a little, the animal crests looked angry, like they were in frenzy, red jewelled eyes seamed to glare forward into Jayson. He shook he head and laughed, sure he was over thinking things. Without further delay he shot forward and grabbed the beautiful sword with both his hands.
Suddenly, he writhed in pain, White hot heat burned through his body and white light burned through his vision. He desperately attempted the throw down the sword but he just couldn’t let go.
The white light burned through his eyes and eventually through his head. He fell to the ground and took in his last breath.
- 6 Months later -
It was a few minutes passed midnight, the night watchmen whistled, twirled the ring of keys round his finger and almost strut down the long dark corridors of the Richardson’s History Museum, A large Building that had been open only a few years yet had collected hundreds of objects of mystery and wonder.
Near the end of his round the watchmen suddenly stopped outside a large iron door. His curious hazel eyes came across a luminous red sign that read: ‘KEEP OUT! SENIOR STAFF ONLY!’ Looking both ways his smile could be only described as a Cheshire cat. He hadn’t noticed this door on his shift yesterday, but today something was compelling him to enter. This museum was famous for its large grand auction parties.Rare valuable objects were often brought into ‘secure’ room after being found, to be clean and polished ready for auction. With his curiosity getting the better of him he looked at the digital door lock and laughed. With a click of his fingers the door opened obediently and he strolled into the dark room. Flicking his torch around he could see several objects covered with white sheets covered in the museums logo.
He wasn’t sure what it was, but the square object in the corner of the room, caught his complete attention. He quickly and gracefully rushed over and pulled off the sheet covering it. What he saw froze him to the spot, not many things had that effect. He closed his eyes and took in a deep breath feeling his stomach turn. Flashes of Blood, pain, Frantic and almost unstoppable wild rage raced through his mind. A memory he had pushed to the back of his head. The watchmen looked at the square glass case holding a 3 headed sword. This sword was never meant to be dug up. EVER, not after the devastation this caused.
"Holy, Crap" Gabriel whispered to himself as he placed both his hands on the glass.
"This isn’t gonna go down well…" The arc angel looked up through the large dome windows above, into the foggy night sky. "Castiel" He breathed out, he had no idea what was happening in heaven or were the younger angel was, but he knew two men who would. He groaned as he picked up the sheet and chanted a spell to hide the grace resonating from the blade as he threw the enchanted cloth back over the glass case. Until he found Castiel he would have to keep a close eye on it, staying close to keep up the cloaking spell.
He huffed as he headed for the door of the large room filled with various statues and mysterious objects. He faked his death to get away from all the fighting and running, But now it looked like he had no choice, this was to important, to powerful to ignore.
The sound of wings rustled through the night as a hooded figure appeared by the dome windows looking down into the room below. Platinum cuff-links gleamed in the shifting moonlight as he placed his hand on the window. Spying down, seeing Gabriel leave locking the door.
“It wont be long now” He whispered smugly as he disappear into the grey thick