Disclaimer: I own nothing but these words I write. Ellen & the hunters belong to Eric Kripke and Giles belongs to Joss Whedon.
Inspired by Supernaturally Twisted chapter 98.
Ellen stood, her hair flowing down her shoulders, and her face set in an angry motion. Her dark eyes met the old mans light blue. The man, Giles, he was called, was tall and old-looking. Forties or fifties, at least. She glared at him, arms crossed. This man’s family had killed her boys, injured her baby girl, and invaded her home. The hunters in the bar had the guns pointed at the group standing at the door way. There were forty against five; still Ellen knew they didn’t stand a chance against this group. The power radiated from them. She didn’t let this stop her from defying them, though. She stood tall, like a lion.
“You the Council?” she asked voice harsh and heated enough that she hoped it scared the group. The hunters waited for her call. She was the mother den in this group, and she controlled them but she knew that they were itching for a fight. No body killed one of their own—let alone two—and got away with it. They hurt Jo, too, and the girl was back at the hospital, recovering from the blow.
“We came to apologize.” Said Giles and she didn’t move as he stepped closer.
“Ain’t no apologies in the world that’s gonna get you on our good side, Mr. Giles.” She said, voice a growl. “You killed one of our own, and for that your going to pay.”
“Please, it was all a misunderstanding…” he had no time to finish as she signaled for the hunters too shoot. You let a witch talk, and you might as well call yourself dead. Well there was that, and the fact that no one got away with killing one of their own. No one.