AUTHOR'S NOTE:
I'm back guys! Hope you enjoyed the little break I gave you. I'm going to try and make the chapters a little longer now, because I know how horribly short they are. Anyway, enjoy this one!
My heart skipped a beat and my stomach churned as I watched the sea of blood pour across the floor. I breathed in a little, hopeful that I would make it through this; hopeful that I could stay awake long enough to stop this. I looked around at the collapsed bodies on the floor. I looked at Metatron, grinning and holding the archangel blade tightly in his hand. I watched as I saw him shattering every single jar of grace, watching as they flew into the air, and he breathed in every single bottle, laughing the whole way through. I remembered in the books what Anna had said after consuming her grace, and I squeezed my eyes shut. Just breathing in and out was exhausting, and keeping myself in a sitting position was just as bad; if not worse, so when I laid down, shielding my eyes from the immense amount of energy that flew across the sort of room we were in, it was difficult to will myself to get up. It was unbelievable the things I was seeing. Metatron, already a very powerful angel; had the graces of all the angels in heaven. Any angel would be so very powerful from this, but Metatron... Metatron was far more powerful. He blinked his eyes, and everyone was gone. Everyone but me. I screamed, the agony and loss seeping through my veins as they disappeared from sight. All my friends were gone in an instant. What had happened to them? Where did they go? Were they dead? I didn't have the answers, nor did I have time to get them. I could only scowl up at Metatron, who healed my wounds. He smiled, with such a fake kindness I thought I would gag. I stood up, reached for the blade, and grasped my hand over his, yanking uncontrollably. He twisted and broke my wrist, causing me to let out a yelp. Then, to my horror, the blade dug deeply into my stomach and out the other end; towards my back. He twisted it, smirking as pain surged through my entire body. More and more blood spilled out on the ground, as if there could be any more. I could only glare at him in the hopes that it would be helpful.
"What do you want with me?" I pleaded, the hole in my stomach growing more and more painful with each breath.
"Oh you don't know?" Metatron replied. I looked in his eyes and saw genuine surprise. Genuine, yet casual. "You are one of the most important people in the universe. More so than the vessel of Michael or Lucifer."
Now I was surprised. How on Earth could I be more important than Sam or Dean? I didn't know what else to say, so when what came out of my mouth came out, I felt the ammunition I had given him being fired back at me.
"What do you mean?" was all I could ask. Metatron only laughed and let the corners of his lips lift up.
"You, my dear, are a vessel. And a very important one indeed," he said.
"Well whose freakin' vessel am I?" I barked.
"You," he continued. "Are the vessel of God himself."
GOD? How could I be the vessel of God? There was positively no way that could be true. I was literally no one. There was no possibility, none at all. I understood important people like Sam and Dean being vessels, but me? And besides, why the heck did God need a vessel, let alone a woman's? I always thought of God as a man. Was he? Or she.
"What the heck are you talking about?" I demanded, trying to keep a neutral expression on my face. Metatron only stood there, quiet and thinking. I wish I had never met Sam, or Dean, or The Doctor, or anyone else. Even poor J was probably dead because of me. She had been one of my greatest friends before I dropped out of college. I still don't know why I did it; I guess I felt that college just wasn't a necessary experience. My brain always did that, it always plucked out what I felt I didn't need. I was failing anyway, so it didn't really matter. But college had nothing to do with what was happening now.
"What did you do with my friends?" I asked angrily as I wiped the blood that was starting to trickle out of my mouth. Still no reply. Ugh, why wouldn't he answer me?
"I asked you a question!" I screamed at him. Instead of a reply, I got a blade shoved up my chest. I felt it go through me, like someone had punched me. The blade shone as the artificial light reflected off of it. Another sickening puddle of blood flowed out of my new wound, which had pierced through my heart. I looked at Metatron's hideous eyes, and his lips curving into an evil smirk. He was saying something, but I didn't hear it. Reality faded away and I left all thoughts behind, along with my body.
I was in a house. It was old and a little broken, but a little pretty as well. It was my house, the one I had lived in before I went off to find the Winchesters. The lightly weathered wood felt warm and cozy against my fingertips as I felt along the outer wall. I walked up on the little porch, which creaked just a little as each foot fell. I opened the door which swung lazily on its slightly rusted hinges. My living room welcomed me as I walked in. The lamp on the side table was already lit; and the carpet was soft, like it was when it had been freshly vacuumed. The couch still had the imprint of where I always sat, when it was late at night and I didn't have much to do, or when I had too much to do, and needed to work. I'd lose track of time when I stayed there too long, I remembered plenty of times where the sun would rise while I was still sitting on that couch, just doing my work. I stayed up late watching TV as well, or playing Minecraft, or even writing my book. Yes, I was working on a book. I loved this old living room, but I loved the kitchen even more. It had a very beautiful design, hard wood floors, though faded, and a delicate chandelier. I remember when J used to come over and we'd bake cookies together. It was always good fun, especially on the days I really needed a break from all the work. But she and everyone else I knew was dead. And now, as far as I knew, I was dead too. I had a pretty good idea of where I was; my house, of course, but not the real thing. I was in Heaven. My spirit simply moved from one place to another. But who brought it there? I was pretty sure that if Metatron ruled Heaven he could at least be able to keep my soul with him. I was a believer, so I didn't doubt for a second that it could be God, it just didn't feel like he would have done it. I wasn't entirely sure, so though I was a spirit, I decided to pray. After all, I could still think, though I didn't have a mind, not really.
"Dear Lord," I whispered softly. "I don't understand what is happening, or why. I trust that you know, and that you can help me in this crisis that is my life. Or death, I suppose now. I like this heaven a lot; it makes me feel so at home. Thank you for that. I'm not exactly sad that I'm dead either. It's just... well I feel like there was a lot that I needed to get done back in my life. I know it's your will; what I do and what I don't, but really, I just don't get why I'd be here when I could be avenging my friends. If they're dead, that is. Are they?"
I ended it there; because I felt as if there wasn't anymore to say, and I didn't want to say anymore anyway. I didn't know what to do at that point. Should I help them?
It was at that point that I realized someone else was in the room with me. I whirled around to see who it was; and realized that the face of the person standing there was me. But how could it be me? I was dead, who knows where my body was now, who knows what...
Oh.
It was my body, standing there staring at me. God was in control of it.
"Jennifer, you were created to be so special," he- I mean she- said quietly. "I love everyone so much, and I had great plans for everyone, but you... well you were designed to be just like me. In almost every way. Except gender of course."
"What do you mean?" I asked curiously.
"I mean I have neither gender nor species," she answered. "I am everything. However, I was designed to look like you. Not just you specifically, but the entire human race."
"God created man in his own image," I began. "In the image of God he created them; male and female he created them."
"Ah yes, you've read the works of the prophets," he-she-it said with a calmness. I only nodded; not knowing what else I should say. I was glad that um- she, I guess, began to speak again to break the silence we had.
"I have a proposition for you," she said. "I am God, so I do not need permission to enter a vessel, however, I do like to have it; simply because I do not want to harm my creations in any way. So, you are my vessel. As you can see, I have your body, but I came to speak with your soul. I wanted to know if you would like to reunite with your body and taste life once more. Do you?"
I thought about it for a minute. If this was the heaven that I would have, I would certainly be happy with it when the time came for me to use it; but for now, I knew where I needed to be.
"Yes," I replied.
I white light began to emit from my empty body, and suddenly I could see from my own eyes, and I could- no, I couldn't. I couldn't move. But I was being moved, my legs lifted and my feet hit the ground. I was walking somewhere, it looked like a garden of some sort. That's when I realized that God must be in control of my body. I could still see and hear what was going on, but I could not speak or control my limbs. It didn't hurt, not like Jimmy Novak was told when Castiel took his body. But then again, Cas was an angel, God was... well, God.
I could also feel some of the thoughts in his mind now, but only certain ones, ones he wanted me to see, as if he were trying to communicate with me. That's when I realized he was. I decided maybe if I thought as well that he could hear or feel my thoughts too.
Where are we going? I said, wondering if he could hear me. I heard another thought reply.
We are going to Metatron, he said simply. I'm in no hurry, so I decided to take the scenic route. I wanted you to get used to being in this vessel. It's a lot to take in.
Well, I appreciate it, but won't it be better if we just get it done? I asked curiously.
Get what done? he replied.
Well, I started. We are going to kill him aren't we?
I felt confusion come off of his thoughts, because thought he already knew I was going to say that, he wanted to make it clear to me of what he was going to say.
Kill him? Why would I kill him? Yes, he has done many wrongs, but all sins can be forgiving.
I realized what message he was trying to get across. That's when I knew that the entire time we aimed to kill Metatron, God was merely waiting for the right time to help him.
