My job is a hard one, it is viewed as strange and difficult. However, I find it to be my purpose. Talking to criminals is not strange to me, I almost can say that its a second language to me. My job is to find out all the secrets our patients have that are sent in. How they think, why they believe it was okay to do whatever they did, and just to know their brain like as if it was my own. For the ones we can't catch, I'm sent in to get inside their heads and predict their next move. So that way, we can capture them.
Today started off great in my opinion. I slept for more than four hours, I bought donuts for the crew and a slice of pie from the gas station down the road from my home, which I ate in less than five minutes. When I arrive at work, our little police station served as my office. The crew of policemen were, in my honest opinion, the douchiest of douchbags I have ever worked with. They made fun of my job and called all my patients assholes which in turn makes them not speak for days. I make no progress because they're upset and the true assholes then say I don't get shit done. I have never before had the urge to simply lay all of Hell on innocent people before. But today they acted like adults and even thanked me for the donuts. Like I said today was a good day. That is until my first patient came in today.
I open the tan envelope and read the stupid report about this criminal, whom is named Drew Smith and is 46.
-Homicide was the number one crime of this dude.
-He killed two- no three men.
-No association between the three besides that they all lived in this town.
Okay lets see what he thinks and believes.
I settle in my metal chair, these things could never be considered comfortable so no point in tryin'. I shift the envelope and my notepad in my hands before setting them down in front of me on the metal table. Drew Smith here has brown hair in a style my grandfather would have had it in. He wore glasses that were to small for his face and squished his head. It looks like he has brown eyes but the lightening in here is horrible. He also had a go-tee that was grey and black. He looked insane. Drew's weight though could be questioned. For a man that killed three men that were smaller and healthier than him its almost insulting. Drew looks like he's a plum, maybe two hundred and fifty pounds? I cough into my hands before I begin.
"So Drew, do you mind if I call you that?" I try to be polite, the mentally ill do not need to be treated in violent manners. I wait for his reply but none is given. Its usual so I don't mind it. They all answer eventually.
"My name is Dean Winchester, usually I prefer people to call me Mr. Winchester but I allow my patients to call me whatever pleases them. So if you don't mind, Drew, I would really like if we start this. I'll ask you some questions, you answer them. We see where you belong and then our jobs done." I try to smile at him, that usually calms them down but he glares at me with such a hateful glare that I actually feel my face drop.
"Sir this can take five minutes or five hours. It depends on you, Smith so choose carefully. I lose my patience after two hours." I clasps my hands together and wait for his reply which actually comes this time.
"My name is not Drew Smith. Its Metatron and I will not answer to a simple mortal like you!" He yells which is totally unnecessary because we're only like two feet away from each other. His silva goes on the table and some of my face. Great. I wipe it away and huff out something I hope he doesn't hear.
"Okay then if you're not a human what are you?" I ask without the deep hatred I'm already feeling. Some criminals make me want to dump them in jail and put them in the category of "asshole who deserved it". However, that is not my job and is not my duty. I will learn his mind as if its my own then decide where he is suited best for. A mental hospital or jail. My only two options and honestly if they're in the station they should only be given one. But some do it out of a disease they were born with. Being a criminologist was not easy but I loved it.
"God. I was an Angel but I became something better." Dear lord not the crazies, they can be difficult to get info out of.
"Were any other angels working with you to kill these people?" I ask cautiously cuz sometimes they don't like the thought of killing people.
"No no sir they were demons. I could care less about what humans do." See not people, demons.
"And yes, two other angels." Okay two other patients for me to do. Hopefully this goes by fast.
"So why did you need to kill the demons, Megatron? Shit sorry I meant Metatron."
He smiles, "its fine mortal, do you read? I love stories they all add up to something. They make you think about the big picture. For centuries I would just read. Thats it! Since Angels don't need to eat or sleep, this was very easy for me to do. Anyways, I treat life as I do a story. I play the part thats given to me. Killing those demons with the others was something I had to do. I'm the hero, you see so I had to do this. They were thinking about taking over the world so I stopped them. I became God because its my role and I was captured so that you humans could see me. All of it, was meant to be. I'm not the author, unfortunately so I don't know the ending." He looks down at his hands and grins. Thats something that I never look forward to. Instead of watching him do something stupid, I scribble some notes down and then leave without saying one word to him. His face looks shocked so he must have used his "Godly powers" to try and kill me or something like that. Its always interesting to see how my patients react.
I go back to my little office and exchange my first patient's envelope for the second one. Okay lets see who you are #2. His name is Scout Thompson and he is 32, same charges so I'm assuming all three of them worked together to kill those men. Three "angels/God" and three "demons" this might not be a coincidence after all. I check the time on my iPhone, its only 9:06. Fuck me.
My second patient is kinder than the first but not as much as I'd wish. He likes to talk me into circles.
"Okay so let me get this right. You're the Archangel Gabriel? And here I thought you were gonna be some lame-ass Angel that just followed God around to seem cool. If I didn't know better I'd have to say that the position of God was given to the wrong Angel. I mean that guy," I point to the right to where Drew Smith's room should be. "Seems like he has the whole, I'm old and wise act down but power? Nah that's all you buddy. Unless the their guy is Michael or Lucifer." Gabriel over there smirks which shows his dimples. He looks so flattered, I think I just flirted with a man.
"Well I don't know what Metatron told you but he took that position without my permission. And no in door number three, we have the angel of thursday. He's real funny, I think you'll enjoy him more. I used to be a porn star actor but then well... Huh, I guess I never quit. They would call me the trickster." He smiles and looks really proud. If I was well known in porn then I'd be proud too.
"Is this when you were still a human?" I ask in the same joking tone. His smile drops for a second before its brought back up.
"No, I've never been human. I was born an Archangel and I'll die an Archangel. Metatron set us up so that we'd get caught. Its like he wanted to die early. I never got to have half the things I wanted. If we all go to jail, make sure you put us in separate rooms from Metatron. I know I'll kill him if I ever see him again. Those demons we killed? Were humans but he convince us that we were in denial. So what did I do? I stuck my knife into the poor bastard before he could even tell. Luckily, he died right after unlike Metatrons'. He tortured that man." Sorrow filled his golden eyes. I'll classify this one as assisted in homicide. I bid my goodbye and let the poor man be taken to his cell so he can sleep. Its not often when I pity a man but these types of criminals always get me. The ones that wanted to keep living, that didn't want to do what they did. They just talked to the wrong people and made the wrong choices.
By the time I got to reading my third patient's envelope, I was starving. So I left and got some Wendy's. Twenty minutes later I'm full and ready to talk to Jimmy Novak head on.
After taking my sweet old time getting to the station, I hurry up and walk to Jimmy's room. I reach for the handle and pause, I need to get my head back into the whole Angel and Demons thing. I take a deep breath and open the door. When my eyes set on the chair, I panic. He's nowhere to be seen. Shit shit shit what am I gonna do? Shit.
"Are you just going to stand there or can we do the whole interrogating thing?"