Disclaimer: Dogma, and its characters belong to the great Kevin Smith! I'm
just borrowing the characters to put in this story. Did I mention I make no
money off this?
Afterlife: Metatron
The return of Our Father to the realm of the quick was accented by the choirs of angels singing out in praise. Yes, thought the Metatron, it was dreadfully predictable. The Lord looked upon his first-born sons and daughters and cracked a smile. "So, anything interesting happen while I was away?" The Metatron was relieved that the Almighty hadn't lost His sense of humor.
The Cherubim looked only slightly dissapointed that this hadn't really been the end of the world. They hadn't fought a good battle in a while. They stood, in their armor, pouting like children. Their firey swords looked a lot less threatening in hands attached to slumped shoulders. But still, they had sang along with the other choirs, happy as the rest of us at the Lord's return. They would just have to wait another day for the apocalyspe spoken of in Revelation.
While the lord was being greeted, an angel approached the Metatron. She was a from a lesser choir called Dominions. "Is it true? Bartleby and Loki are dead?" She asked. Metatron sighed. He had seen Bartleby's death with his own eyes, saw Loki's body lying face down in a street. And he knew what happened to them both. You can't be the voice of God and not be privy to some information. He nodded sadly to the angel. The Dominion turned away tearfully. Metatron sympathized. Bartleby and Loki, banished though they were, were still our brothers.
Still, wouldn't take long for the news of what became of them spread. There's only two other places they could go, and they aren't here.
The Lord gave some whispered instructions to a few angels, bid welcome and 'see ya later' to Rufus and Serendipity and retired to His throne. Metatron followed. When the Lord was seated, Metatron knelt before Him. The Father lost his smile. "Stand and tell me what troubles are upon you?"
The Metatron did as he was told, his face was solemn but his eyes were sorrowful. "Forgive me, Lord. In your absence, I was the one who tapped the Scion and I did so without your command. I will take whatever punishment you see fit."
The Lord nodded, expression unreadable, then bid him come forward. The Metatron obeyed, half expecting the Lord to smite him there and then. Instead, the Father stood and embraced him. "I am well pleased. You have done what you thought would best serve Me."
And being embraced by The Father is a reward. There's no other way to feel closer to The Presence, surrounded by pure love. You feel lightheaded, damn near giddy.
As the Metatron pulled back, he thought he saw a glimmer of sadness in the Father's eyes but it was gone before he could be sure. Still, he ventured, "You're thinking about Loki, aren't you?"
The Almighty returned to His throne. "Go in peace." The Metatron bowed, sang a short hosanna of praise and left the Almighty alone. As he walked away he noticed the blood stains on his suit were gone. Metatron smiled but the sadness he thought he saw still troubled him. Ever since the death of the Son, the Lord hasn't been as vengeful. The Creator is very patient but how much more of this can He take? Will all His children turn on him one day?
A chilling thought came to him then. What if He knew what would happen all along? He had to have known. He's omnipotent, comes with the job of Creator. It must have been so much harder on Him for that, to know from the second He created Bartleby that the Grigori would become bitter and turn on Him. But if all that's so then why did He let any of it happen?
Because God has a plan, Metatron thought. Maybe it was meant to happen. Maybe by not doing anything to prevent it, God thought it wouldn't happen. Or that by trying to stop it, He would only trap Himself.
Like what happened in Oedipus...
It somewhat saddened the Metatron to think that angels have little more insight into the workings of God's mind than humans do.
*****
Author's note: Thanks to everyone who's actually reading this and my other Dogma stories. Comming soon, Afterlife: a guardian angel.
Afterlife: Metatron
The return of Our Father to the realm of the quick was accented by the choirs of angels singing out in praise. Yes, thought the Metatron, it was dreadfully predictable. The Lord looked upon his first-born sons and daughters and cracked a smile. "So, anything interesting happen while I was away?" The Metatron was relieved that the Almighty hadn't lost His sense of humor.
The Cherubim looked only slightly dissapointed that this hadn't really been the end of the world. They hadn't fought a good battle in a while. They stood, in their armor, pouting like children. Their firey swords looked a lot less threatening in hands attached to slumped shoulders. But still, they had sang along with the other choirs, happy as the rest of us at the Lord's return. They would just have to wait another day for the apocalyspe spoken of in Revelation.
While the lord was being greeted, an angel approached the Metatron. She was a from a lesser choir called Dominions. "Is it true? Bartleby and Loki are dead?" She asked. Metatron sighed. He had seen Bartleby's death with his own eyes, saw Loki's body lying face down in a street. And he knew what happened to them both. You can't be the voice of God and not be privy to some information. He nodded sadly to the angel. The Dominion turned away tearfully. Metatron sympathized. Bartleby and Loki, banished though they were, were still our brothers.
Still, wouldn't take long for the news of what became of them spread. There's only two other places they could go, and they aren't here.
The Lord gave some whispered instructions to a few angels, bid welcome and 'see ya later' to Rufus and Serendipity and retired to His throne. Metatron followed. When the Lord was seated, Metatron knelt before Him. The Father lost his smile. "Stand and tell me what troubles are upon you?"
The Metatron did as he was told, his face was solemn but his eyes were sorrowful. "Forgive me, Lord. In your absence, I was the one who tapped the Scion and I did so without your command. I will take whatever punishment you see fit."
The Lord nodded, expression unreadable, then bid him come forward. The Metatron obeyed, half expecting the Lord to smite him there and then. Instead, the Father stood and embraced him. "I am well pleased. You have done what you thought would best serve Me."
And being embraced by The Father is a reward. There's no other way to feel closer to The Presence, surrounded by pure love. You feel lightheaded, damn near giddy.
As the Metatron pulled back, he thought he saw a glimmer of sadness in the Father's eyes but it was gone before he could be sure. Still, he ventured, "You're thinking about Loki, aren't you?"
The Almighty returned to His throne. "Go in peace." The Metatron bowed, sang a short hosanna of praise and left the Almighty alone. As he walked away he noticed the blood stains on his suit were gone. Metatron smiled but the sadness he thought he saw still troubled him. Ever since the death of the Son, the Lord hasn't been as vengeful. The Creator is very patient but how much more of this can He take? Will all His children turn on him one day?
A chilling thought came to him then. What if He knew what would happen all along? He had to have known. He's omnipotent, comes with the job of Creator. It must have been so much harder on Him for that, to know from the second He created Bartleby that the Grigori would become bitter and turn on Him. But if all that's so then why did He let any of it happen?
Because God has a plan, Metatron thought. Maybe it was meant to happen. Maybe by not doing anything to prevent it, God thought it wouldn't happen. Or that by trying to stop it, He would only trap Himself.
Like what happened in Oedipus...
It somewhat saddened the Metatron to think that angels have little more insight into the workings of God's mind than humans do.
*****
Author's note: Thanks to everyone who's actually reading this and my other Dogma stories. Comming soon, Afterlife: a guardian angel.