The first few weeks were hell.
At first, Alex had spent every waking hour trying to prove this world was just some elaborate simulation or a dream that he'd wake up from. He scoured newspapers, tested his abilities on mundane objects, and even attempted to trigger some kind of "glitch" in reality. But nothing ever broke the illusion. It wasn't an illusion.
Eventually, he had to accept it: this was real. This was his life now.
Once he accepted that, the real work began.
The world of Supernatural was dangerous, and Alex knew better than to wander blindly into the unknown. Recklessness got people killed. He spent months honing his abilities in secret, testing the limits of his psychometry, training his body, and strategizing how best to survive in a world filled with things that went bump in the night.
He hit the gym hard. Strength, endurance, reflexes—everything needed to be sharpened
Guns, knives, and even a little hand-to-hand combat. He practiced at shooting ranges and read military manuals like they were scripture.
He studied lore—folklore, urban legends, anything that might give him an edge.
Dimensional Storage was a godsend. He could stockpile weapons, food, and survival gear without worry. Psychometry, however, was harder to control. Sometimes touching an object brought a flood of information so intense it left him dizzy.
He set rules for himself—'never be reckless, never pick fights with the supernatural unless necessary, and always have an exit plan.'
Six months in, he left his small town behind.
Using saved money and a few odd jobs, he traveled across the country under the guise of a drifter. He visited places known for supernatural activity, trying to piece together what was real and what was just local superstition. More than once, he found himself near the sites of past hunts—places he recognized from the show. He kept his distance, wary of drawing attention.
He also learned something crucial—'psychometry wasn't just for objects.'
Touching the ground at a site of death or violence gave him fragmented glimpses of past events. He could track things, piece together movements. The ability was growing stronger, more refined.
But no amount of training could prepare him for his first real hunt
It started as a simple stop in a small town in Colorado.
Alex had planned to spend only a night or two, but something felt off. People were on edge, and there were missing person posters everywhere. A little digging revealed that all the disappearances happened near an old, abandoned church at the outskirts of town.
Against his better judgment, he decided to investigate.
That night, armed with a shotgun loaded with salt rounds and a silver knife, he made his way to the church. Inside, the air was thick with decay, the pews covered in dust and grime. The moment he stepped in, a chill ran down his spine.
Something was here.
A rustling sound echoed through the empty halls. Then, a voice—whispering, distorted.
Alex barely had time to react before something lunged at him from the shadows. He rolled, narrowly avoiding a set of razor-sharp claws. A wendigo. Fast, deadly, and far beyond what he wanted to deal with.
'Shit! What the hell !.'
The fight was brutal. The creature was stronger, faster, and nearly tore him apart. But Alex was smarter. He used the environment to his advantage
He leaned against a tree waiting for the wendigo go come again.
"Come on...You damned thing"
the wendigo lunged at him but he was prepared.
"Burn.." Alex shot the wendigo with a flare
set the thing ablaze, and watched it burn.
As the fire consumed it, Alex felt something… strange. A pull deep within him. His Power Absorption ability activated, and before he could resist, something from the dying wendigo flowed into him.
Power. Strength and Something inhuman.
The pain was unbearable, like his body was rejecting the foreign essence. He collapsed, barely able to breathe as his vision blurred.
When he woke up hours later, he felt… different.
Stronger. Sharper. Faster.
He'd absorbed something from the wendigo. Not the full extent of its monstrous nature, but a fragment of its enhanced senses and agility. It was both exhilarating and terrifying.
He had power now—real power.
But with it came a sobering realization: 'If I can take abilities, how will that affect me ?'
In the days that followed, Alex left town, moving with more purpose than before. He had changed. He wasn't just surviving anymore—he was evolving.
For the first time since waking up in this world, he had more than just the will to survive.
He had a direction.
And he sure as hell wasn't going to waste it.
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To be continued...