A/N: Hey readers! I know this story has long since finished, but I found a story in my archives that acts quite well as a prequel so I thought I'd share it with you.

Dedicated to 'Fall Rider' who suggested I write a prequel but didn't get one until now.

Enjoy!

One Man's War

It ended where it began.

Calvary Cemetery, southern Wyoming.

In the year 2007, a man named Jake Talley used the Colt to open the Devil's Gate. Although it was only open for a few minutes, hundreds of demons used the opportunity to escape from Hell.

Azazel died that day, and Mary Winchester was avenged. But at the same time the battle was won against Yellow-Eyes, an army was unleashed upon the Earth and the real war started.

For seven years demons lay siege to the world. Their leaders changed, but their objectives remained the same – to steal, kill, and destroy. Humans were possessed, ridden hard and then discarded. Thousands of people died, hapless victims of a war they knew nothing about. The world nearly ended once or twice.

The only thing standing in the way was a handful of Hunters, with two brothers at the fore.

Sam and Dean Winchester.

They fought the good fight, and they lost everything in the process.

They lost each other.

On the day he realised that he had nothing left to lose, Dean returned to that cemetery with a Mark branded on his arm and a Blade in his hand.

They had been searching for Abbadon, Knight and self-proclaimed Queen of Hell, for weeks without success. Dean was tired of waiting. He wanted this to be over. He had the Mark of Cain and the First Blade and he intended to use them to end this once and for all, consequences be damned.

There was no point searching for Abbadon on Earth when he could take the fight straight to her.

Without consulting Sam, or Cas for that matter, a good man went to war.

Dean opened the Devil's Gate.

The doors swung wide, but for a moment there was nothing. In the calm before the storm, Dean's eyes fluttered shut. He inhaled deeply, taking in the scent of sulphur and fire and brimstone. He let his humanity fall away, sinking willingly into the black abyss of his damaged soul. He became the monster he had been in Hell and the hunter he had been in Purgatory. He became the killer Cain had considered worthy of taking his Mark.

His grip tightened around the handle of the First Blade. He drank in the potent rage and formidable power. There was no room for fear. There was only the job, and the bloodlust.

Black smoke exploded through the gate. Far from seeking escape into the world beyond, the demons sought to destroy the one true threat to their existence, converging on the Righteous Man whose name had been whispered in terror from the instant he shot Azazel through the heart.

What they found, though, was not the Righteous Man they had known and broken during 40 years of torture in Hell.

They found death. Personified.

The First Blade slashed and stabbed, every strike finding its mark. Demons shrieked and their voices were silenced with precision and efficiency. The whirlwind of violence became a desperate struggle to escape through the hoard of other demons that kept pressing inwards until they realised too late that to get close to Dean Winchester was to die bloody.

When dozens had perished, hundreds had fled and no more dared to come forth from the pit, the corner of Dean's lips curled into a dangerous smirk.

"Well, then, it looks like it is just you and me, Abbadon. They won't do your dirty work for you anymore. You wanna be queen bitch? Time to prove yourself."

Abbadon appeared in front of him. "I'm not afraid of a human with a pigsticker," she sneered.

He raised and dropped a shoulder in a slight shrug. "Your funeral."

The fight was never going to go the way Abbadon expected it to. She thought she was dealing with a human.

She wasn't.

She tried to use her powers to throw Dean across the cemetery. He stood firm. She should have realised how much trouble she was in and fled there and then, but she could not fathom that this lone man could spell her doom.

Drawing a knife of her own, she launched into hand-to-hand combat, throwing every ounce of her strength and skill into the battle, never noticing that Dean was not even breaking a sweat.

She stabbed him in the heart and grinned fiercely, believing victory was hers.

Dean looked down at the blade sticking out of his chest. Nonchalantly he pulled it out and tossed it aside.

Abbadon's eyes widened.

And then her head was severed from her shoulders and her body fell to the ground, lifeless.

A collective gasp was heard.

Dean turned to see that he was surrounded by hundreds of people with black eyes. The demons who had escaped must have gone to claim meatsuits and then returned to witness their Queen defeat the hunter. He was not sorry to have disappointed them.

He shifted his stance, and readjusted his grip on the First Blade.

"Come and get it."

There could be no doubt that if they did not attack now, Dean Winchester would hunt down every last one of them and rip them to shreds. They thought there was strength in numbers.

There wasn't.

By the time Dean was finished, not a single demon was left standing. The cemetery, the blade and Dean had something in common. They were all soaked with blood.

Dean Winchester had won the war singlehandedly.

But the man he had been was gone.

All that was left was the monster.