O my God!
I can't believe there are 50 Dogma fanfics in here, and not a single one is about Metatron! For crying out loud, he is the VOICE OF GOD! Jeez! Not to mention you people didn't remember ALAN RICKMAN!!! Gosh, how come nobody wrote about him? The Harry Potter part is full of Snape-fanfics, but there is not a single Metatron-fanfic in here! Argh! That just makes me mad! Time to write one myself! Not that I know a story already… * gulp * Eeuh… Ok, give me a second…
Got it!
Ok, sit back, and LISTEN to… THE VOICE OF GOD!!!
Ok, I formulated that rather bad, because you guys won't really listen, you will read… Which isn't quite as fascinating as listening to Rickman's voice… Hmm… Ok, so eeuhm… Perhaps it's better if you guys start reading this thing out loud with the deep, sarcastic voice of Alan Rickman… Perhaps that would be nicer… Oh, what am I babbling about? Just read the bloody fic!
God had it again. Yup, she did. With Easter approaching, she suddenly felt the need to do a couple of miracles again. Just when I was hoping to get A DAY OFF! But noooo, no can do when your boss is the big boss! Got to work round all year! Night and day! If only I could sleep. But I can't. Angel, you know. No sleeping, no alcohol, no sex, nothing fun! Soooo boring… Anyways, she had it again… With her tiring voice (not that I get tired), she ordered me to go with her again. Where?
To Belgium. Of all places to Belgium. No offence, but that country is soooo boring. The people in it are boring too. The only thing I wanted to know, was if I would have to speak Dutch, French or German. I still remember the first time I went to Belgium and started speaking French to the lucky one! How was I supposed to know they spoke THREE languages? IT JUST ISN'T LOGICAL!!!! In the USA, which covers about a tenth of the world (eeuh, without the water perhaps?) , they speak ONE language. In Belgium, which isn't even as big as the state of New York, they speak THREE languages! It just isn't fair!
Anyways, she asked me if I could help her with a new miracle. It appeared there was this young woman, 17, according to God, that needed a bit of 'help'. Hurray. I'm overwhelmed with joy. Just what I wanted. Another chance to humiliate myself. I quickly asked God what language she spoke. Dutch. God, I hated that language… Not graceful at all. Not as bad as German tough, that's still a lot worse. Now English, that was a nice language! Poetic and everything! But Dutch was boring. Just like the people were.
At least, that was my general impression… Anyways, God told me a bit more. The poor girl had just lost both of her parents in a car crash and was going as bad as it gets. What was my job? Help her. Well, I couldn't just march in there, make her lay down on a leather couch, go sit down behind her and act as if I were a psychiatrist. Why couldn't I just work like that?! At least that was easy… Any idiot could do that kind of work!
No, I had to do the angel stuff again. Appear in the night and announce that I had a message from God or something like that! You can't believe how many times I've almost been hit by women I had appeared to in the middle of the night. Well, I only got hit once, my very first time I had to do that. I was quite shocked… But I'm not really getting to the point here, am I? I'm an angel, eternal life and everything. I got all the time in the world to tell you the little story, but I guess you haven't. Bloody mortals… Always in a rush…
Well, I wasn't going unprepared. I didn't know anything about the mortal. Spy time.
Spying is kind of easy when you're an angel… Who am I kidding, it comes natural to us! We can get invisible, go everywhere, hear everything, understand every language… Can't get any easier than that.
All right, move on to Belgium. Woosh! I was in Belgium. It's even easier than 'woosh' to get somewhere when you're an angel. I don't really have to woosh, but I think it makes it easier for you to catch up then.
Where was I? I knew she was here. I could feel it. I looked around. It was a rather dark room. There were a lot of small drawings on the wall. And some obscene texts, as well as some nude drawings of mermaids and rock babes. In the middle of the room, there was this chair, with a huge light over it. A fat, bold man with leather pants and everything was lying in it. He smiled widely, which revealed three gold teeth, and was looking at his arm. Another man, a younger one, had a sort of needle in his hand and was drawing on the fat man's arm. A tattoo. This was a tattoo shop. Where was she then? I knew she was here, but no one was going to fool me into saying the bold man was her… Suddenly someone stepped out of the darkness. It was her. She didn't exactly look like an angel… (Figure of speech)… She looked more like a hell's angel. She had dark make-up on her pale face, very dark make-up. Black eyes and black lips. I had seen corpses that looked better. She had a lip piercing and her hair was… Quite amazing, I must say… Ever since the Jackson Five, I hadn't seen anyone with their hair spread quite as wide. She came rather close… Her hair wasn't curly or anything tough! It looked more like Marilyn Manson's hair cut, except that her hair wasn't that thin. Her hair was black with blue, red and purple fake hair-pieces in it. The way the hair just hung in the air, it amazed me! She must have used a dozen of hairspray cans to keep it in the air. Still, she didn't look really appealing. She had this black and dark red blouse on. It looked a bit gothic… But then underneath, she had this rather short leather tight pants. She was wearing panties underneath them. She should have thrown them in the dirt can, because they were ripped practically everywhere above her knees. She wore black leather boots with quite a lot a long pair of laces that came over her knees. I had seldom seen a worse combination of clothes then this. And believe me, the seventies were bad, but not as bad as this tough.
Her eyes looked rather hollow as she moved to the young tattoo-making guy. She rubbed his back. The bold man that was lying in the chair looked at her with large and wanting eyes. The young guy drew her closer and kissed her deeply. The bold guy smiled widely and kept on looking without shame as they kissed for what must have been minutes while the tattoo-making guy didn't hold back in exploring her in front of an audience. When they were done, she blinked at the bold man, that grinned, and walked back into the shadow. The young man continued drawing the tattoo for another five minutes. When it was done, the bold man handed over some bills to pay him.
"I'm thinking about getting another one…", the bold man said, not looking at the young man, but keeping his eyes on the girl. "I like the service."
This absolutely disgusted me. The bold man left the dark room and the girl came out of the shadows again.
"He wants you.", the young man said.
"I know…", she replied, sounding cool.
"Next time…"
"Next time I'll what?", she quickly said with a tough voice, although she couldn't hide her panic from me.
The young man smiled diabolically and pulled her close to him again and kissed her deeply.
"You know what I'm talking about.", he grinned.
"I most certainly will not!", she said fiercely, pushing his arms away from her.
The young man suddenly looked very mad.
"You most definitely will!", he yelled loudly.
They looked mad at each other. She turned around to walk away, but the boy grasped her arm.
"You're not going anywhere!", he yelled, and he slapped her hard in the face. She fell to the floor and sobbed. She tried to touch her eye, but it seemed like it hurt a lot. She looked up to the man again, who still seemed angry.
"I'm going.", she hissed silently as she got up.
"No you're not.", the man hissed back and he started to beat her even more.
I'm used to this tough, I've seen it hundreds of time. I never did anything about it. I was never allowed to. Part of God's plan… It always seemed like a load of crap at the moment. Just as it did as this one. I tried not to concentrate on them two, and started looking at the other drawings of tattoos on the wall. Half an hour later, the man left. He threw the keys at her.
"And you better be back here tomorrow! I know where you live!", he said, right before he started to laugh hysterically and left the building. Guys like that made me angry with God. Why did she never do anything about them? There was too much poison in this world. God couldn't take care of all of it. Not anymore. There were just too many problems.
It was already dark outside. The girl sobbed on for another ten minutes before she finally got up, turned of the lights, closed the door and left.
Ok, so you guys must have seen what I did… I started it out as kind of a comedy, but then went for the drama. I never did anything like that before, not in one chapter at least! But I kind of like it tough! Hmmm… Might do another drama/humor chapter next… Hehe…
Oh, and I still don't know what this fic will be about. I'm just writing on and on… Feel free to make suggestions. ;) Oh… About the girl's name perhaps! I don't have a name for her yet… So just lemme know.
And for those of you who are expecting a "Metatron-appearing-in-a-girl's-bedroom-scene", stay tuned, I think it will be in the next chapter! ;-)
So, just be an angel and read and review for me!