In the state of Washington lies an isolated small town, surrounded by endless forests, filled with mystery and secrets, named White Pines. Population; 4456 people . . . soon to be 4455.
Cinderylla Viçatore was born on a cold winter night in 1987, beneath the endless pine trees of the small town she knew as home. Raised by two deeply devoted catholic parents, Cindy spent the first thirteen years of her life believing she had been blessed with the perfect family. Her mother, gentle, endlessly patient, and seemed to carry heaven itself within her smile. Her father strong, protective, and never forgot to kiss her forehead before bed and remind her that God was always watching over them. Then, almost overnight . . . something changed!
Her once loving parents, now seemed to be a vessel for something evil. There were no more forehead kisses, hugs before bed or kind words of how much they loved her, just empty, coldness. The warmth inside their home slowly rotted away, replaced by something hollow. As if a curse had been put over their home. But no one noticed, not the neighbours, not the church, not her teachers, not her friends, only Cindy.
Every night, she’d kneel before her bed, rosary wrapped tightly around her trembling hands that clasped together in a prayer. A prayer for her mother to be gentle and warm again, for her father to be caring and kind again. A prayer for God to bring her family back. But no amount of prayers, no amount of visits to the confessional in the towns run-down church, no amount of attempts to be kinder, quieter, holier, no desperate attempt to become the daughter she thought God wanted, would ever make them go back to normal, could undo whatever had rooted itself inside her home. Because whatever was wrong with her parents . . . ran far deeper than sin.
So when the prayers seemed to disappear into silence, she began searching elsewhere for answers. The old leather-bound books lining the shelves of the town library became her new sanctuary. Dusty newspaper archives, local legends, strange deaths, ghosts, curses, demons, creatures that wandered the woods after dark — she devoured every story she could find, convincing herself that somewhere among the pages was an explanation for what had happened to her family.
By day, she was White Pines high’s cheerful, rollerskating, bright-eyed cheer captain. By night . . . her own personal supernatural investigator.
Then one day, as if God had finally answered her prayers, came Sam and Dean Winchester rolling into town in a 67’ impala.
When the two brothers uncovered the truth behind the darkness consuming her family, Dean prepared to do what hunters always do. But before they could do anything, they were stopped, by Cindy who stood between them and her home with a threatening gun shaking in her hands.
What began as another routine hunt quickly became something far more complicated. Another way was found, one that saved her parents from the darkness that had haunted them for years. But every miracle comes at a price . . . The curse was broken and her parents got their lives back. But she had to leave.
Cindy’s parents woke up confused, their daughter wasn’t in her room, and her rollerskates that always hung on a hook next to her closet were gone. After ten failed attempts at calling her cell, the police were involved. Missing posters were hung up all over town, articles in the newspaper, her mother crying on television after her beloved daughter never returned home.
Her parents remembered years of happy family dinners that never happened. The curse rewrote their memories, not Cindy’s, and there wasn’t anyone left to blame, her parents were innocent, and there wasn’t some demon or villain left to send back to hell.
Cindy left town with a fake id, given to her by Dean Winchester, to start a new life. But for some reason, monsters followed her everywhere she went . . . Bartending at a quiet roadside tavern? One of the regulars was slipping something far darker than drugs into customers’ drinks. Working as a maid at a century-old inn? Room 214 had been occupied by the same angry spirit for almost eighty years. Waitressing at an all-night diner? Three people disappeared behind the restaurant in the span of two weeks. Lifeguarding one summer? The lake wanted more than swimmers. And so began her life as a hunter.
Every now and then she’d end up working a case where she’d run into the Winchester brothers. They’d solve the case together before then parting again. The Winchesters would drive east. Cindy would drive west. Until, sooner or later . . . another little town would call all three of them back together again.
"𝐒EIZE 𝐓HE 𝐌OMENT, 𝐂AUSE 𝐓OMORROW 𝐘OU 𝐌IGHT 𝐁E 𝐷𝐸𝐴𝐷!"
Nowadays, if the apocalypse decides to knock on humanity’s front door, there’s a decent chance you’ll find Cindy…
Rollerskating through the parking lot of yet another run-down motel blasting music through her headphones, ╱ Arguing with Dean Winchester, ╱ Cleaning blood from her boots outside the Impala while pretending she’s completely fine (she isn’t), ╱ Buying lollipops in every gas station they pass, ╱ Yelling EW!! at the shedded skin of a shapeshifter, Wandering through old cemeteries, ╱ Dragging Sam further into every dusty library because “there has to be something in the archives!”, ╱ Trying to convince Dean that roller skates are, in fact, a perfectly acceptable form of transportation during a hunt 𓂃✍︎
kianamaiart
pixelskylines
2087
snowghoul
