Nothing on… As usual, Hannah thought. She tossed the remote on the bed and sighed. Normally, she'd be seriously grateful to have a few moments to herself, where those people weren't trying to kill her. But right now…she was completely bored out of her mind. He'd told her to wait here, that he'd give her further instructions later, but he'd never really said how long later would be. Knowing him, she'd probably be stuck here waiting for years, doomed to a life of cheap room and board, cold pizza, and suck-y daytime television.

Then the TV went static. She knew she'd turned it off, she was sure of that. Please… not the lights. She could hear her own heartbeat pounding inside her head. Sure enough, the lights in the room began to flicker. Once… Twice… Three times. She whipped her shotgun out from underneath the bed, stood up, and faced the door, square. If this was the day she was going to die, she didn't want to do it sitting on her ass like the scared little child they thought she was. She knew what was coming next. Or so she thought…
She could hear a faint, high pitched ringing. Hannah turned her head toward the TV again, frowning. Nothing had changed. It was still showing static. Now the ringing was getting louder. Her head jerked up, as she saw the ceiling starting to shake, the light fixture bouncing around like a cork in water, dust falling from the plaster.
She cocked the gun, aiming it at the door. She knew it was stupid to do this.
I mean, do you really expect them to use the door, moron? You know how they work, she chided herself. If they want to get to you, some door is not going to stop them.
Now the ringing was louder than ever, so loud that it hurt. Hannah couldn't help but drop the gun. She clutched her hands over her ears, half expecting that there'd be blood on her palms if, and when, she pulled them away. It was so painful now, that it was all she could do to keep from screaming, as she crumpled to the floor.
Then, suddenly, it stopped.
She felt out of breath, and she was surprised to feel cold sweat on the back of her shirt. Gingerly, she lifted her head from the floor, and pulled her hands away. They were shaking, but thankfully, there was no blood.
"What the hell was that?" she said, slowly picking herself up off of the dusty carpeting. Unfortunately, this was one of the pitfalls of living on her own for so long. She often talked to herself, asking herself questions that she honestly knew she'd never get an answer to. But this time, that was exactly what she got.

She heard a familiar, gravelly voice. His voice.
"Listen to me. I need you to pay attention very carefully."
Then, just as it had several times before, her mind filled with short flashes of images, in lightning quick succession. A big, stone building that looked like some kind of abandoned warehouse. Except it wasn't abandoned. Someone, or something, had warded the hell out of the place. There were hidden symbols all over it. Then she saw a door. The front door, with a big wheel lock. An old muscle car of some kind parked outside the building. Black, with an Ohio license plate. A chain link fence surrounding the entire place, then finally a road sign: Lebanon, Kansas.
"Go there. Now." He said, and just as quickly, the images were gone. She was on her hands and knees on the floor again. She was still shaking, but somehow, seeing those images had made her feel calm. Calmer than she'd felt in years, almost…safe, but she had no idea why. It wasn't a word she was used to having in her vocabulary anymore. She did know one thing for certain, and that was if He told her to go now, she should go now. Every time He had told her to leave somewhere immediately, it was because she was in danger. She couldn't even count the number of times He had saved her life that way, and she was pretty sure it was one of the only reasons she was still alive today.

She got up, grabbed her backpack off the dresser, and started packing up her supplies. She grabbed the guitar case she hid her weapons in, and unzipped it, grabbing an old towel, and wrapping her shotgun inside it before closing it back up. She flipped open her laptop, waiting for the damn thing to boot up while she looked in the bathroom for her toothbrush, and cell phone. She tossed a Ziploc baggie with her toothpaste and deodorant in her bag, and checked her laptop again. She opened the browser, and looked up a map to Lebanon, Kansas. She was relieved to find, that it wasn't too far away from where she was now. She could be there by the morning if she drove fast enough, and took the back roads. She erased her search history, and the cookies, just to be on the safe side, shut the laptop down, and packed it up with the other few things and clothes she had left. She grabbed her 45 from the nightstand, checked that it was fully loaded, and strapped it to her waist. The last thing she did before turning out the lights, was grab the angel blade she carried with her wherever she went, out from under the pillow on the bed. She rolled back her sleeve, strapped the blade to the holster on her forearm, pulled her sleeve back down, picked up her weapons case, and slung her backpack over her shoulder. Hannah opened the door, locked it, and took one last look around the room. She wondered, vaguely, if she'd ever have the chance to feel bored again, before walking out into the still night air, and closing the door behind her.

It was a good thing that she'd left when she did, because not ten minutes after she'd pulled out of the motel parking lot, and headed down the highway, room 157 was blown apart by a white, hot light.