Then and now, a tale of two hunters.

[Thaal Sinestro]

The angry group of wasterlanders were still buzzing around in the background, seemingly still deciding if the fight would be worth it. The occasional hard stare from Sinestro and the cold, casual demeanor of the black-eyed psychopath seemed enough to keep the scavengers at bay, but he couldn’t be sure how long that would last before the situation required another show of force. The deputy kept his rifle at the ready, just in case another demonstration was needed.

“Sinestro,” the red-skinned alien sneered, “and I do not yet have the ability to bring my ring here.” He pushed the brim of his hat up with his thumb, carefully inspecting the man that stood across from him.

The man snapped his finger and wagged the barbaric knife in his counterpart’s direction, “Ah yeah, that’s right, Sinestro. Who the hell comes up with those names?” He laughed to himself, “Sinest-roooo.”

The blood-drenched man’s equally blood-drenched blade seemed to be made of bone and lashed to its handle with sinew. For its primitive construction, it somehow seemed to keep something of an edge. Every time Sinestro’s eyes fell upon the primitive dagger, he felt a creeping unease surge through him, as if the weapon itself was furious with his presence. If the seasoned lantern had to guess, he’d say magic. The presence of the arcane was ubiquitous on Earth, and between the man’s appearance and his mystical weapon it was a fairly safe bet that he was human.

“Though I’m not sure where you know me from,” The korugaran paced back and forth in front of the warrior, ensuring he kept a safe distance, “I have never been a ‘comic,’ neither do I recognize the name of ‘Reynolds. Though, I’ve had more than a few conflicts with the people of Earth, and I can’t say I’ve known every name of every combatant I’ve faced there.” His feet came to a stop and he cast a baleful stare at the man, “Why are you looking for the woman you mentioned?”

“I didn’t ask by fourth question,” Dean replied, strangling down the overwhelming lust for violence that the mark inspired within him, “Why’d you save my ass back there?”

“Firstly, as a deputy it’s my duty to put an end to conflict in my sector.” A sinister glimmer danced over his eyes as he regarded the stranger, “But, more importantly, I need information.” He raised his gun and aimed it at the Winchester’s heart, a grim determination washing over him. “So either answer my question or I’ll sadly be forced to ignore the first part.”

“Heh, straight to the point,” Dean said with a blood-spattered grin, “but I dunno if you wanna take that route with me.” He blinked and the entirety of his eyes went black, their sudden emptiness almost eliciting a jump.

“Don’t make this more complicated than it needs to be,” Sinestro growled, placing his finger on the trigger.

The conflict within the demon was visible, struggling to withhold the violence that compelled him and to listen to the quiet voice of reason in the back of his mind. He breathed in heavily, pushing down the geyser of rage that threatened to erupt at any moment, and exhaled. The hand that held the blade fell to his side and his eyes returned to normal. “Ok, yeah. Mary and I were gonna have a quick roll-around in the back of the bar, right when she decided it was time to reap my immortal soul. Now, I don’t really know what that even means in this place but she seems damned content to do it, and do it a lot.”

Nodding, Sinestro lowered his weapon and reached into his pocket, retrieving the wanted poster. He tossed it over to the hunter, who quickly unfolded it. “Is that who you’re looking for?”

“More like what,” Dean corrected, “but yeah, that’s her. A lot sweeter to look at in real life, though.”

“I’m sure,” the deputy scoffed. “You said she’s not a person, so what is she?”

“A Reaper,” Dean said, sauntering over to his car, attempting to rub out a deep scuff. “Back where I’m from, these things collect the souls of the dying, you know, making them dead. It’s just the natural order of things; but this one seems to have gone off the program. She’s been tricking people into going off alone with her and giving them the sickle.”

The deputy’s eyebrows wrinkled as he considered his quarry. “I’ve been sent to kill her, or ‘banish’ her, as Roland put it.”

He smirked and flapped the wanted paper around, “I figured.”

“And you know how to put it down?” Sinestro asked cautiously.

Chuckling, dean wadded up the poster and chucked it back to the deputy. “They don’t call us Hunters for no reason.”

“It seems like you could use some help navigating though, doesn’t it?” he tempted the stranger, gesturing to the bloody mass that was once the scavengers’ lookout. “It looks like we both need something the other has and we’re both headed after the same target. Might as well make it easy for ourselves, right?”