ARCHA

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ARCHA. 8

“A dark force is brewing just beyond humanities reach. Behind the scenes, Crowley plots something sinister, unbeknownst to the Winchester brothers. Gabriel had been in hiding, he didnt expect to believe that anyone knew he was alive, and yet, here he was, front and centre. Gabriel was now nothing more than trapped and seemingly powerless, and swept up with him was that stupid girl, who had so accidentally been thrown in his world of angelic crazy.”

Word Count: 1500+ per chapter

MASTERLIST / ABOUT

FIRST / PREVIOUS / NEXT

(HEADER TO BE ADDED)

CHAPTER 8: SLEEP

There they stood, two specs on the face of planet earth, minuscule against the unbelievable expanse of Mountain range that cloaked the horizon. It truly was a spectacle to behold, as if Mother Nature herself had organised the night sky to be as absolutely perfect as it possibly could be, and only to complement that particular moment, just for Wren and Gabriel. To the fallen archangel, it felt almost like his father was mocking him from the sky above with its immaculate perfection at that moment, a sort of “I told you so.” He didn't think much on this though, Gabriel didn't want to be reminded of home anymore. He desperately wanted to see things differently, just to forget almost everything that had ever happened since the dawn of his creation. Try as he might, something in the back his mind still tugged, something was always telling Gabriel that he was being watched over, it was almost uncomfortable. He didn’t enjoy the sense of constantly being watched, especially not when he knew it was his father watching. Even after his fathers disappeared, he never felt truly free of him. How Gabriel envied the human race sometimes, he wished very much to posses that same ignorance they unknowingly had. Even now, where he stood as basically human, Gabriel was still drowning in the unnerving sense that his father was watching and judging his every action. He quickly let the thought escape to the back of his mind again, it hurt to think on it for too long.

‘Ya’ know, I’ve never seen anything like this before. The sky is so pretty here.’ Said Wren, her tone wishful against the cold, fog rolling off her breath as she spoke. ‘Sure.’ Gabriel replied shortly, he didn't much want to think about the marvel before his eyes.   Wren looked at Gabe where he stood, his locks sullen and greasy after the amount of running and walking the two had done, his burgundy red button up awkwardly askew around his throat. She looked closely at it, close enough that she could make out the stain of blood red blended into it. ‘Did they stab you in the neck?’ she asked. ‘What?’ ‘Those guys back there. How bad did they hurt you before, you know, the light?’ ‘The Demons?’ Gabriel asked, he knew Wren was holding back from calling them as such. ‘They didn’t get me too bad, I woulda’ been fine, light or no light.’ He lied, if it wasn't for that last explosion of power Gabriel let loose, death, permanent this time, would have likely been fairly imminent. ‘Why is there blood all around your throat then? In my idea of things that would almost certainly lead to immediate death, being slashed across the throat is pretty certain.’ ‘Well, you did say “almost” for a reason.’ Wren felt weirdly dreamy and strangely content through this conversation, she didn't know Gabe at all, but being uncaring was not something she was known for. Perhaps she was tired, too tired to act hostile toward him at the moment? Wren took one more look at the street before them, so busy and yet so quiet at the same time. The mountaintops solid, unmoving in the distance, and an extreme hustle at the bar further up the road. She breathed out, exhaling those drowsily feelings of dreaminess too. ‘Well, what are we supposed to do now? No car, no cash.’ She spoke. ‘That’s where you’re wrong, Short stack.’ Gabriel took his hand inside his pocket and pulled out a couple of hundred dollar bills. ‘I’m way ahead of ‘ya in the cash department.’ ‘You had that this whole time and you didn't tip Vi for the lift? God! You didn't even say thank you either!’ ‘Well, I didn't have it this whole time.’ ‘When did you…- you stole it? Seriously? What did Vi ever do to you for you to be such a douche?’   ‘I may be a douche, but at least I’m of high quality.’ He teased. ‘Plus, if I hadn't taken it we wouldn't have anywhere to stay for the night. There’s not a lot here either. Probably enough for one room and some food, if we’re lucky. It’s all we got, so just deal with it for now, you’re Highness.’ ‘When did you even take it? You were in the front seat with her the whole time!’ ‘Just before I got out, when your door got jammed and you had a “special moment” with that girl.’ He waved the cash around, ‘I pinched it straight from her wallet. You might be annoying as all hell, but you sure do make for a good distraction.’ he teased, a cheeky look on his face. ‘You’re a pain in my ass. I hope you know, if all of this was any different, I would be as faraway from you as possible.’ How good it felt to finally get that off her chest, Wren wasn't scared anymore, she no longer thought of Gabriel as a threat, finally she had mustered up enough courage to let loose at him a little. He may have saved her life, but that didn't make him any less of a dick. ‘Touché.’ He replied sarcastically. ‘But hey, Demons will be Demons. You’re not planning on running away from me, are you Short-stack?’ he mocked. ‘What, like I have a choice? Does it look like I know how to hot-wire a car? Why do you keep calling me that too? We’re almost the same height!’ Wren bickered back. ‘Again, emphasis on the “almost”.’ ‘Can we just go inside already? You went to such an effort to get that cash, let’s just use it before the guilt makes me want to change my mind.’ ‘Of course.’ Gabriel swaggered toward the front door of the motel, Wren closely followed. As he opened the front door, she half expected him to hold it open for her, unfortunately Wren was already thinking too highly of him. Gabriel shoved the door opened and continued inside, letting the door slam backwards into Wren, he didn't turn around or even bother to see what had happened, he didn't even care enough to look. Wren, instead, entered on her own accord, pushing the door herself.

The reception area was small, the floors were tiled, showing a marble stone underneath. The walls, instead, were a yellow-ish colour. Some couches, an ATM and a desk also sat with no one in attendance. A small gold bell lay on the desk, Wren assumed it was a “ring for attention” sort of thing, she rang the bell. A door behind the desk creaked open, and out came a man who carried a beer in his right hand. He looked gruff in appearance, unshaven stubble sheathed his jaw, as well as two uncut sideburns, he was roundish and large in stature. He stood over the desk, not bothering to sit down. ‘Room for two?’ Asked Gabriel sheepishly. The man gave them a once-over, examining Gabriel particularly. After a moment, he spoke; ‘Sure, here.’ His tone was throaty. He opened a drawer from under the desk and pulled out a single key, a snowflake keychain dangled from it. ‘Room 4, it’s just outside, to your left, on the bottom floor.’. Gabriel didn't hesitate, he snatched the key and went over to the room, leaving Wren to deal with the payment situation. He may not have liked her very much, but he trusted her enough not to run off with the cash. It didn't seem like there was any bus system in place in Strate anyways, especially not at this hour.

After paying, Wren made her way over to the room, utterly relived to finally have a real roof over her head. As she reached the door, Wren found herself tripping on a slight ledge right in front of it. Down she came, tumbling forward right toward the cold wood of the entrance, she quickly pushed her hands out, hoping to catch herself on the closed doors solidness. But no, unfortunately for Wren, someone hadn't closed the door properly. So down she came, the force of her body falling pushed the door open further, her face hit the inside of the doorframe, a slight smacking sensation left her face imprinted on the warm carpet floor. Wren squirmed at the thought of looking up, how baldy she didn't want to see Gabe’s stupid smugly face looking down at her, ready to spout a one-liner. She slowly opened her eyes, finding his feet directly in font of her. ‘How was your trip?…’ he asked, Wren cringed at this comment ‘…I’ll see you next fall.’ ‘Ugh.’ Wren groaned. She hoisted herself up and her eyes met his, and there it was, that stupid smug little eyebrow-cock she had come to loathe. She huffed and stepped past, then, Wren took a look at the room around her.  She found that it wasn't very pretty, in fact it was quite the opposite. Musty, smelly walls, an old television set, a gross old couch, a tiny kitchenette and two beds made up the room. The bedsheets we’re a dark blue colour and looked like they hadn't been updated since 1980. She also noticed a small door that presumably led to a tiny bathroom. ‘Is there a shower in there?’ She asked, pointing over to the little room, she assumed Gabe had already taken a look. ‘Yeah, it’s a bit crappy though, I wouldn't go in there barefoot.’ ‘It’ll do.’ Wren dove straight for the bathroom, eager to wash away the gross, crusty old blood from her palm, lucky for her, her clothes had avoided much stain from the ooze, Gabriel, however, was not so lucky. His burgundy button-up still stained a shade darker from the slash that briefly existed on his throat. When Wren escaped into the shower and finally left the room vacant, Gabriel began to undo his shirt. He made his way over to the kitchenette where he found a small sink, he filled it with hot water. Gabriel took off his shirt and placed it in the hot sink water. After some struggle to understand how it worked, Gabriel came to learn that there was a detachable nozzle connected to the tap too, he decided to wash of the dried up blood that had been hidden underneath his collar on his neck with it, this left his topless upper half looking questionable.

Wren stepped out of the shower, slightly unnerved by the alarming amount of mould that hid in it’s corner, this motel was certainly disgusting is some aspects. She put on her unwashed clothes, however left Gabriel's jacket to soak in the bathroom sink. Her clothes were still slightly muddied from earlier in the evening. When she entered the living room, Wren was startled to find Gabe wet and topless, he didn't give her the chance to comment on his questionable appearance however; ‘I’m just washing my shirt, relax.’ Wren nodded and went on about her way, Gabe didn't exactly have a torso that was particularly interesting to look at anyway. Wren choose to sleep fully-clothed that night. She pondered the events that had occurred, How strange it was to hitch a ride with a stranger, sharing a room with one was even odder than that. She checked the bed for bed bugs, and after a thorough search determined it safe for sleeping. She slept on top of the covers though, and only used a sheet as a blanket, still in fear of the mites that might lurk in a dirty motel like this. The events that had occurred that day haunted her as she lay down to sleep. Wren finally let her mind rest, how much she had much to contemplate in here dreams that night.

Not long after Wren had dozed off, Gabriel still sat awake, not sure of what to do or how to feel. After his shirt had soaked for long enough, he stepped outside onto the front porch to hang it out to dry. There, Gabriel found himself memorised by the scenery yet again. After a while of staring at the stars and mountaintops, he found himself feeling something completely new: tiredness. Gabriel went back inside, there he stood for a short moment, staring at the vacant bed, he yawned. Gabriel had seen Wren put herself to sleep earlier that night, and so he decided to repeated her actions. He laid down, closed his eyes and tried to do what humans made look so easy; Gabriel tried to sleep. How stupid he felt, laying down and trying with all his might to “count sheep”, something he had heard people did to lull themselves to rest. But, finally, after tiring himself out by thinking to hard about what sleep was, and how to properly perform it, his mind finally gave in. For a short while everything was okay, and foggy, and forgotten. Being asleep was a bliss that Gabriel had never know, but could know happily add to his list of good things, but this didn't last long.

Gabriel awoke with a start to the yelps of Wren in the bed next to him, she squirmed and panicked in her bed. Gabriel stared at her; ‘What are you doing?’ he asked snakily, he was irked to have been woken by her. ‘Short stack? Hellooo?’. Gabriel stood up and approached the girl as she continued to mutter yelps of pain. Gabriel noticed that her eyes lay shut, he discovered that she, in fact, wasn't awake at all, but was deep in a nightmare. Beneath the sheer white of the bed sheet, he also noticed a reddish glow. Gabe pulled the sheet off her slightly, discovering her scarred hand glowing a dull red yet again. How curious. Looking at the sigil carved into her palm, something stirred deep within him. That was his own sigil, a symbol that once was representative of the Messenger of God, of someone humanity could rely, but not anymore, not for a very long time had it meant anything of the sort. Gabriel grew bored of Wrens squirming, he left her and walked over to the bathroom. As he was about to cross to the toilet, Gabriel found a strange sight staring back at him in the mirror, his reflection, or rather, his own topless vessel. There he paused for a moment, Gabriel examined himself closely, noticing spots and stray freckles he had never taken the time to notice before. There he stood for many minutes, taking in this human form he had inhabited for almost an eternity now, yet he knew nothing about. Gabriel walked back to the living area, but something felt devoid inside him all of a sudden, and the actions that followed just felt like the right thing to do. He took the blanket that covered the motel bed, wrapped himself in it, and then paused. Gabriel laid down on the floor. His eyes felt heavy, his body ached, as did the rest of the world around him it seemed. He felt something almost hollow, empty, inside. The floor felt right for some reason, there was something comfortable about the hardness of it. Gabriel shut his eyes again, this time finding it easier to drift off into the foggy void of sleep. The floor was where he slept for the rest of the night.

— CHAPTER 9

TAG LIST: @pixierox101 @sumara62 @assbuttwithwings @electricaj04 @dangerousbasementwerewolf @lipstickfireandblood @bookgirlofnarnia

[otherkinwords]

A monster is not such a terrible thing to be. From the Latin root monstrum, a divine messenger of catastrophe, then adapted by the Old French to mean an animal of myriad origins: centaur, griffin, satyr. To be a monster is to be a hybrid signal, a lighthouse: both shelter and warning at once.

Ocean Vuong, A Letter To My Mother That She Will Never Read (via otherkinwords)

[archafic]

ARCHA 7.

“A dark force is brewing just beyond humanities reach. Behind the scenes, Crowley plots something sinister, unbeknownst to the Winchester brothers. Gabriel had been in hiding, he didnt expect to believe that anyone knew he was alive, and yet, here he was, front and centre. Gabriel was now nothing more than trapped and seemingly powerless, and swept up with him was that stupid girl, who had so accidentally been thrown in his world of angelic crazy.”

Word Count: 1500+ per chapter

MASTERLIST / ABOUT

FIRST / PREVIOUS / NEXT

CHAPTER 7: STRATE

The truck smelt of campfire ash and alcohol, the seats we’re old and grimey, torn up and slightly singed. The car was very aged which was even more obvious by its interior, its windows roll down and only a cassettes player present. Though there was something homey about it, the car seemed well loved. Gabe sat in the front seat and chatted away to the strange driver, thus far he had sewn together a completely believable explanation as to why he and Wren had been wandering down an empty highway in the middle of the night. He had left little room for continuity errors, however was relying on the fact that the girl driving had not seen the imaginary car they had “abandoned” further up the road. Wren half wanted to spill everything to this stranger, to tell her “This guy might be crazy, call the police!”, yet she knew that an speaking of what occurred, with Gabe present, wouldn't be a good move. She was still ready to give Gabe a chance, but only one. He continued chatting with the driver in the front seat, Wren had guessed he was an excellent liar which made it even harder to trust him. She had her doubts about him, but when she pondered it too much, the strange “something more came whispering back.

Similarly, Gabriel too, was lost in thought; What was this new feeling? Incapability? Helplessness? Gabriel was experiencing so many new things all at once and was finding it hard not to crack under the pressure. How did he end up here? Gabriel didn't want this, not any of it. He had minded his own business for a very long time now. After his nigh escape from his brother in that last mighty battle alongside the Winchesters, he thought that was the end of his worries. He had escaped, Gabriel’s chess-piece had been taken off the board. He thought that almost anything sinister would leave him alone if he really just butted out for as long as he could. Gabriel even stopped messing with those pesky humans for a while, even the ones that deserved to suffer. He took a vacation of sorts, went even deeper into hiding. But then came the fall, his cover was nearly blown. Another nigh escape on his part, a slick pass, it wasn't easy to snap away from Metatron and the other dramas of that disaster, but somehow he managed. This time it was different however, he didn't have that handy snap of his fingers to pull him out of this mess, no, this was truly Gabriel's lowest, and he felt it too. He could feel that humany-weakness he so loathed running through his own veins. Sure, Gabriel had come to understand humanity enough to want to protect them from the literal Armageddon, but never had he wanted to join them. Now look at him? All of his mighty Archangel power sapped away leaving Gabriel with nearly nothing at all.

He may not have been able to convince people of fiction with the snap of his fingers anymore, but he could still lie through his teeth ’til the end of time, they did call him the Trickster for a reason, and that part of him didn't die when his grace was stolen. It came in handy when dealing with nosy humans like the one driving, she kept asking away about the two of them. Gabriel wished he could snap his fingers and take away her ability to speak, he wished she would just shut up. Given the situation, however, he humoured her. Oh, how easy it would have been to pull out Michaels Archangel blade from his pocket and stab the girl driving in the chest, he could have taken the car for himself and left that whiny human girl, Wren, behind. He could have gone into hiding and never be seen again. Gabriel pondered this thought for only a moment. He may have done some nasty things to humans in the past, but only to those that deserved it. Gabriel knew the consequences of leaving Wren behind would be disastrous too, Crowley would have her back in no time, and thus would have him trapped too. Though he had never dealt with him personally, Gabriel knew that Crowley was not one to make the same mistake twice.

‘So where were y’all headed before your car broke down?’ Asked the driver in a slowish manner, she was extremely composed. ‘Nowhere really, just sort of driving. A road trip, you know?’ Gabriel replied. ‘Road trip, eh?’ She spoke with suspicion ‘What are you gonna do now, since your car broke down?’ ‘Well, isn't there a mechanic in…, wait, where are you taking us?’ Replied Wren. ‘Strate, Vermont, just at the base of the Eindmont Mountain range. Little ski village town, its awful quiet during the off season. I s’pose y’all didn't plan on stopping through since ‘ya didn't know about it?’ ‘Yeah, sounds about right.’  Wren replied hesitantly, she wasn't quite as comfortable with lying as Gabe was, but that didn't mean she wasn't good at it. ‘Vermont sure is pretty, huh? We decided to, uh, road trip through here because of the national parks. The mountains sure are something else.’ ‘Were did ‘ya start yer trip from?’ The driver inquired. ‘Oregon.’ Replied Wren unthinkingly, she spoke the name of her home, not thinking much of it until the worlds had slipped from her lips. Gabe tilted his head around and made eye contact with her, making a “Why did you say that?” sort of face. Oregon was a spectacularly long drive away from Vermont, and the drivers suspicions of the two hitchhikers only heightened. ‘Oregon? That's quite a while away, I supposed you’d be suffering from tight quarters then? Sick of each other yet?’ She chuckled. Wren was thankful that she didn't think much of her “Oregon” reply, and was also relived to discover they were still in America. ‘You have no idea.’ Gabriel replied with as much sarcasm as he could muster, so much so, that it was made abundantly clear to Wren that he wanted nothing to do with her, as much as she wanted nothing to do with him. ‘What’re your names, by the way?’ Asked the driver. ‘Gabe.’ ‘ ’Names Wren.’ ‘Pleasure, I’m Vi.’ ‘Vi? Short for what?’ Gabriel cocked his eyebrow at her with that stupid token look, Wren had seen this quirk of his an abundance of times now, despite only having known him for a short time. ‘None of your business.’ Vi replied under her breath. ‘We’re nearly there.’

Turning a short corner, the wildwood they had driven alongside for many minutes now began to lessen. When they curved around yet another a corner, two giant mountain peaks came into view. Gigantic, like nothing the two had ever seen before. The scenery that surrounded captured even the imagination of Gabriel. The valley was wide and infinite in the distance, the moonlight masking each distant mountain peak in a unique way. Gabriel had traveled to places like this before, he never cared much for them, but something was different now. Before, he found that looking at the marvels of planet earth only reminded him of his father, and with that, the reason he fled his home. But right at that moment, Gabriel realised that he didn't want to think about his Father anymore. The vast endlessness of the valley before him made him feel so unimportant to the rest of the world, but in a strange, good way. In comparison to the gaping mountains and hillside that glared so triumphantly back at him, Gabriel was a tiny dot on the face of planet Earth, not the mighty, otherworldly being he had been earlier that day. Looking out to the vast valley, Gabriel was beginning to understand, that yes, the mountains really were a beautiful spectacle.

As her eyes drifted down from the mountain peaks, Wren too could see lights peppered off in the distance, a town. ‘Is that Strate?’ She asked. ‘Wow, she's a smart one, isn't she?’ Vi laughed sarcastically to Gabe. ‘It looks beautiful.’ Wren spoke, a genuine sense of wonder trickled through her words. They continued to drive on deeper into the quiet suburbia. Strate looked to be the sort of town where nothing exciting ever happened. It was serene, quite a spectacle. It seemed to posses a sort of warmth that a lot of small towns had. It didn't look extremely dull with the looming canopy of mountains on the horizon, but it was easy to understand that things could be very boring around here with such a small local populist. ‘I’ll just drop you into main street and be on my way.’ They turned another dim-lit street corner and a brightly lit main street opened up into view, bright neon lights and signs of stores lit up the sidewalk. The streets were odd compared to Wrens little home in Oregon, it looked a whole lot busier, for one. Bright yellow lights from one side of the road lit up the street, inside an old-fashioned building was a Bar. Many figures bustled around inside the windows, people standing on a make-shift stage danced around drunkly as their car passed by. ‘I thought you said it was quiet around here?’ Wren asked ‘Friday night. Must be Happy hour.’ Vi replied vacantly. Vi often visited the pub, but had obviously been preoccupied with something else earlier that night. The old truck rolled into a Motel car-park down the road from the bar. A bright pink neon sign flickered in and out outside its front, it read “VACANCIES”. ‘Hope this place’ll do.’ Said Vi, she couldn't really be bothered to drive these town stragglers any further. ‘Yeah, this is fine.’ Gabriel replied. Wren waited a moment for him to thank Vi, but nothing more was said, he just sat there smug-like. Wren went to open the back door of the truck, but found it wouldn't budge, she couldn't open the door from the inside. ‘Uh, Vi, I think the door is broken.’ ‘Oh, hold on.’ Leaving Gabe in the passengers seat, Vi opened the front door of the truck and went around the back to open the door for Wren. She yanked on the handle a little before it whirled open with a resounding CRACK! Gabe, too, got out of the front seat now, his first push on the door didn't budge it, his second however, shoved it open with yet another CRACK! ‘Thanks so much for the lift, don’t know what we would have done without you being there to pick us up.’ Said Wren in the most genuine tone she could. ‘It’s no big deal, I was passing through anyway.’ ‘Really, thank you.’ She replied sincerely. ‘Alright, I best be off. I live nearby, so, ‘dependin on how long you hang around for, I might see ‘ya again. See ‘ya later though.’ Vi returned to the drivers seat and drove off, leaving Wren and Gabe behind on the sidewalk. 

As she drove away, Vi thought very hard. She had her suspicions about the two, and for good reason. Something about their story didn't sit right with her, perhaps it was something about them, or perhaps it was the blinding flash of white light she had seen blasting through the otherwise ambient wildwood just before she met the two on her night watch. Vi was sure the supernatural spectacle had something to do with the two strangers. Instead of heading straight home that night, Vi drove back up the dark highway. It winded and cut through the national park she watched over regularly, her nightly patrols over the area every night had left her knowing almost every nook and cranny. Vi backtracked, looking for any sign of the Car that the two had “abandoned” farther up the road.  As she continued to drive she nearly passed the location of the spectacle she had witnessed earlier that night, the site of the white flash of light. Pulling up right by the site, Vi wandered forward into the brush. She instantly noticed that many trees had been blasted down leaving a clearing in the wildwood, a deeper crater marked the explosions centre. She turned on a very bright flashlight and searched the area. Shoving her hand in the dirt, she started at the explosions centre. Almost immediately her fingers met something metallic, she knew straight away what the object was; a mobile phone. Vi was the little towns of Strate’s protector, and she was never going to let anything or anyone threaten her town ever again. After discovering this little specimen, Vi came to realised that Gabe and Wren were certainly now very high on her threat list.

--- CHAPTER 8

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UPDATES COMING

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[archafic]

ARCHA 6.

“A dark force is brewing just beyond humanities reach. Behind the scenes, Crowley plots something sinister, unbeknownst to the Winchester brothers. Gabriel had been in hiding, he didnt expect to believe that anyone knew he was alive, and yet, here he was, front and centre. Gabriel was now nothing more than trapped and seemingly powerless, and swept up with him was that stupid girl, who had so accidentally been thrown in his world of angelic crazy.”

Word Count: 1500+ per chapter

MASTERLIST / ABOUT

FIRST / PREVIOUS / NEXT

CHAPTER 6: MORE

‘You expect me to believe that? A “Hunter”? What are you, discount Ghostbusters?’ She yelled at him. ‘Well when you put it like that-’ Gabriel tried to counter her argument.  ‘You're crazy! That’s what you are! I’m done with this!’. Since she had calmed down, Wren had begun to function like a regular, mentally stable person again. Was she really going to wander down some dark highway with a stranger? No, she wasn’t! And this little “confession” of his had been the nail in the coffin. In Wrens eyes, Gabe was a certified crazy.

She began to feel around her pockets, her clothes stained in velvety red, her own dry blood sheathed over her sleeves. ‘Where’s my phone? Did you take it you dick?!’ ‘No, hey! Stop!’  he said as he placed his hand on her shoulder. ‘Listen up Short-stack, if you want to survive you will listen to me!’ ‘No! You listen here Buddy, I don't know who you think you are-’ she shoved his hand off ‘-but you have no place ordering me around, okay?’ Gabriel looked to her with frustration. ‘What? Did you expect me to believe you? That you wander around killing, what? Boogey monsters? I’m sorry to break it to you, but you’re crazy!’ Her words were fierce, she was determined to leave his side, but Gabriel was never one to give up easily. Even now, as fleshy and as weak as he was, there wasn't a chance in hell he would risk letting the girl go off alone. ‘Okay, okay, just give me a chance?’ He put on his “Good Guy” face, ‘Everything that happened back there, the smoke, all of that wacky crap, they were Demons! And that blade they used to do-’ He paused for a moment, motioning to the scar on her palm, ‘-that’. ‘What you mean THAT blade, that YOU have?’ She pointed, obviously referring to the flaw in Gabe’s “oh-so-convincing” act. He did look rather threatening holding the sharp object. ‘This is an Archangel blade, it can-’ ‘You told me you didn't know what it was!’ she spat. ‘I lied, okay? I wanted to wait for you to calm down before I dropped all this crap on you!’ Wren lunged at him, she grabbed the hilt of the sharp blade, now pointing its sharp end toward Gabe’s chest, she shook it around awkwardly. ‘You better back up or- or I’ll use this thing!’ ‘Listen, if you could just be careful, they’re very hard to come by and that’s, like, the only thing I have to protect myself right now so if you could just-’ Scared, petrified, confused, what was Wren to do? She moved her hand further up the hilt, spinning the blade around, she began hitting its hilt against the short mans head. THUNK - THUNK - THUNK, the metal hilt banged against his skin, ‘Ow- Hey, -OW, what are you doing? OW! Hey! STOP! It kills demons! QUIT IT, SHORT-STACK!’ Gabriel finally managed to grab hold of the blade. Taking hold of its hilt, he snatched it back from Wrens firm grip. ‘Listen, girl-’ ‘My name is Wren’ ‘Whatever. If I wanted to kill you, wouldn’t I have done it already? That is basically the first thing you asked me.’ He said with obvious snark behind his words. Wren however, was still not convinced, she doubted she could ever trust a man with a face as smug as his. He had already lied to her too. ‘Why should I trust you?’ she asked. ‘I saved you?’ He replied complacently. ‘Can’t you just trust me? Haven't I proven myself enough yet?’ ‘No way. You lied to me already! What else aren't you telling me?’ ‘Okay. Listen here, you’re Royal Snarky-ness, you’re safer with me than you are alone out there!’ He pointed off into the dark abyss. ‘Like it or not, there’s no way I’m letting you out of my sight. Make this easier for yourself, let’s just call a Cab and hop it to the nearest motel, then work out what to do from there, okay, will that make you shut up?’ Wren looked to his face begrudgingly, she wasn't sure what to think of this stranger yet. He had been right about some things though. Right now, as much as she hated it, she truly had no where to go. And what would the police think of this crazy story? She didn't believe Gabe was truly a bad guy, he was too cocky to do anything truly sinister, it seemed. If he was telling the truth she could understand why he would want to stick together.

Wren’s hand slowly stopped glowing and burning as she calmed down, the stinging sensation wasn't as hellish as it had been when she first awoke to the dark, cold night. ‘You realise how creepy you sound, right?’ Gabe looked at her sardonically, ‘I don’t want to be stuck with you either, but its all I got, so for…Gods sake, could you just give this a chance?’ he pleaded. A silence filled the night at that moment, quiet crickets came chirping back as the stars glistened above, a strange ambiance hooded the moonlight night and something changed in Wren. She looked at Gabes blondish locks, brown eyes and round face. He had a slight overbite and a roundish chin, there was something strangely soft about him, something almost otherworldly. Maybe there was something more behind his sheepish eyes. What if he was telling the truth?

Wren decided to take a leap of faith.

She couldn't believe him until she came face to face with the creatures he had so described, or had she already? Demons, creatures she never considered to believe in until they sliced open her skin and threw her into a swirling abyss of cold, moonlit night. Adventure had been something she wanted all her life, but not like this. Home was boring, home was dull, Wren grew up wanting to believe that there was something more out there, but that something more never came, until now. Here he was in the flesh, the something more she had waited for, this idiot man who had roped her into his crazy life. She realised, if this was the something more she was given, she was going to give it a chance, for now.

‘Do you have a phone?’ She finally asked. ‘No. Do you?’ ‘I lost mine.’ 'Looks like we’re walking then.’ Replied Gabe. ‘Great.’ she said sarcastically. 

Walking was the only option they could take. Gabe shoved the angled blade into a pocked on the inside of his jacket and the two began to stroll along the side of the winding asphalt road, keeping their eyes peeled for any signs that might lead to civilisation, Wren half expected to see some glorious city appear off in the distance. One thing was for certain, it was significantly colder than it had been before.

‘Do you know where we are?’ She asked, her arms wrapped tight around her waists as she shivered in the icy air. ‘What? No. Hell if I know. Like I said, big flash of light, that’s it, kaput, here we are.’ ‘Wow! Great information! Thank god you’re by my side to help, what would I do without you?’ She replied sarcastically, obviously frustrated with the predicament. Gabriel pulled a look of annoyance. ‘It was the middle of the day when “all that” happened,’ she continued, ‘How long was I knocked out for?’. ‘Not long.’ He taunted. ‘It was the middle of the day?’ ‘I think the white light might have tossed us forward in time, or we’re in another country. Either, either.’ ‘You mean to say that you think we time traveled? By a lot? Is this still even the twenty first century? Thanks for mentioning that to me straight away too, not like it was important information or anything!’ she bit. ‘God, you’re so needy. Just relax! I’m only guessing.’ He lied brashly, ‘I couldn't tell you what’s going on anyway, I don’t even know where we are.’ ‘Relax? Seriously? You asshole! Just because you apparently deal with this on a regular basis, doesn't mean that I’m used to it!’ Wren spat, amazed at his ignorance. ‘It’s just another day on the job, it’ll work itself out.’ ‘And time travel is your go to answer for this sort of thing?’ she raised her eyebrow, questioning the legitimacy of his argument. Thinking on the spot, Gabriel decided to blame the ‘time travelling light’ on the only reasonable source other than his ex-angelic self, ‘Demons can deal out some serious mojo sometimes, you don’t know what you’re gonna come against. And those two back there? Big deals.’ ‘Is that so?’ she gawked. ‘Yes, actually.’ he replied with snark, ‘That tubby one? Crowley, he’s the self proclaimed “King of Hell”. And Agiel, the, uh, other one, he’s a high ranking Demon. Not as high ranking as that buttface Crowley, but still a bigger deal than the other goons they have hanging around. And-’ ‘Shut up for a minute’ Wren cut him off.

Slowly, the two began to hear a low rumbling thunder in the distance, the hum of a car engine came bouncing down the road next to the strangers. Bright headlights glared into their eyes as they both looked on, a rusty old truck came into view, it drove slowly up the road and continued on past them but slowed down ahead. As the car slowed in the distance, Gabriel began to button up his shirt to its highest button. Done up, the collar covered where most of the dried blood still lay from the battle prior, much of this blood had seeped down on his shirt too, however the burgundy red of his button-up disguised the stain mostly. He handed his jacket to Wren, it was heavier than expected, but then she recalled that there was a gigantic blade shoved in its inside pocket ‘What, so now you care about how cold I am?’ she inquired, shivering slightly. He pointed at the dried blood sheathing her palms, ‘If anyone sees that we’re covered in blood they'll get “sus-pici-oso”. The sleeves will cover your arms, so just shut up and take it.’ he replied. ‘One more thing,’ He reached forward to her chest, opening the inside of the jacket, he pulled out the Archangel Blade. ‘I’ll be keeping this’ he shoved the knife into a deep pocket sewn into his jeans.

As it rolled up, it was obvious that the truck was old, a pale shade of red, it began to slow until reaching a screeching holt. The trucks windows rolled down slowly to reveal the long face of a young woman. ‘You fella’s okay?’ She asked in a suspicious, icy tone. There was something sardonic and confident about her speech. ‘No. We’re not okay, I-.’ replied Wren. Gabe cut her off before more could be said. ‘We, uh, got lost while driving out here. Our car died way back up the road.’ Lying through his teeth, he pointed back up into the dark abyss from whence they came,‘We need a lift to the nearest town, just a place to stay for the night, is it a far walk?’ ‘Couple of miles’ spoke the stranger, ‘I can give you a ride if you want, it’s mighty cold outside tonight.’ ‘That would be great.’ Gabriel said urgently. ‘Jump in’ replied this new stranger, a weird iciness in her words. She radiated a sort of intelligence that the two had never seen before, a cold confidence, one might say, she reminded Gabriel slightly of a colder Sam Winchester. The two jumped in the old truck, Wren in the backseat and Gabriel in the front. They were relived to finally have some sort of shelter from the bitter cold, and eager to discover exactly whereabouts they were.

Wren was still unsure, she did not trust the smugness of Gabe, she did not like his swagger. There was something bizarrely un-human about him that lingered beneath his bluster appearance. Wren wanted to know more of him and yet escape him at the same time. Perhaps he wasn't the something more she had so hoped for?

--- CHAPTER 7

[archafic]

ARCHA 5.

“A dark force is brewing just beyond humanities reach. Behind the scenes, Crowley plots something sinister, unbeknownst to the Winchester brothers. Gabriel had been in hiding, he didnt expect to believe that anyone knew he was alive, and yet, here he was, front and centre. Gabriel was now nothing more than trapped and seemingly powerless, and swept up with him was that stupid girl, who had so accidentally been thrown in his world of angelic crazy.”

Word Count: 1500+ per chapter

MASTERLIST / ABOUT

FIRST / PREVIOUS / NEXT

CHAPTER 5: HUMAN

The night was still. Not much stirred within the dark reaches of the forest behind the whimpering girl, it was unsettling, as if all living things had fled the scene when the heavenly, blinding light erupted through the blackness. Gabriel had not muttered a single word, for he was yet to find the right one’s. “Who are you?”, a simple, stupid question in retrospect, however the suddenly human could not find the right words to answer. Gabriel looked down at his feet and thought for a moment, slowly, a unabashed smile swallowed his face, he chuckled under his breath for a moment. What a sticky situation he had found himself in. A squeamish human girl stood directly in front of him, looking for answers he simply didn’t have. Gabriel may be many things, but wise was not one of them. He didn’t often associate himself with human kind, Gabriel thought of them as nothing more than play things, easily manipulated and so much fun to toy with. He was detached from human kind, too say the least. People, humans, they didn’t have any real grasp on the reality of the world around them, the evil, supernatural world that lurked just beyond the every-mans reach. Some may have believed in Angels, but none could understand the true wrath and might of one. And in the forward thinking twenty-first century, the concept of obsession, belief of the holy kind was slowly dying. “The Archangel Gabriel, the Messenger of God” a title that once meant so much to him had now become nothing more than words of the past. He was only “The Man Gabriel” now, a title that was strangely familiar to him, yet difficulty to find the origin.

Gabriel could taste the dry sensation of air on his tongue as he breathed in. The feeling wasn’t as overbearing as it had been before, for one, he couldn’t taste every single molecule of the substance, instead a dry sensation that lingering for a moment. He looked at the petrified girl that stood in front of him, not for a very long time had he been associated with a human in this manner. He had zero control of her stupid human-y face and he certainly didn’t like that. Gabriel was yet to understand how to deal with such a situation. Hunters were a different breed, this girl; the most human-ish of human, couldn’t dream to understand the world Gabriel came from. Humans were trouble, stupid as they may be, this one in particular, had endured quite the trauma that clearly had some side effects; The bright glowing slice in her hand was distracting to say the least, Gabriel noticed that the scar carved deep into her skin bared his own sigil, the Sigil of Gabriel, a symbol he had not seen for almost a millennia now. It was obvious that this was the way that he, the Archangel, had been summoned, by using old ancient Sigil magic, in which the demon Agiel must have possessed some expertise, Gabriel deduced.

What was he to say to the shaken girl, how was he to escape the responsibility he now held over the puny thing? Who was he? he asked himself over and over. He was Gabriel, not the almighty Archangel, just the man, the weak, human. The Man Gabriel.

‘Name’s Gabe.’ He finally replied in a brash manner. Gabe had realised that the best way to deal with the situation at hand was simply to roll with it. This was a turning point, he had nowhere else to go other than with this squeamish girl, like it or not. ‘Whats wrong with my hand?’ asked the girl, whimpering and holding back tears behind her eyes, she sniffled and continued to clutch her strangely pulsating hand. ‘I don’t know’ he spat, a true carelessness about his voice. Of course Gabe knew, but he wasn’t going to tell her the very truth, some of it perhaps. Though, most of it was properly none of her business. ‘What?’ She blubbered back, her breathing erratic and huffy, unable to say much beyond her tears, she whimpered behind some shaky words; ‘Are you going to kill me?’ she continued. ‘Pfft- No.’ Sarcasm radiating through his words, ‘I saved you, obviously.’ A macho reply slipped through his lips. Gabe had made a small mistake with his reply however, as he quickly realised explaining his great escape to small-minded girl would only lead to more trouble, opening her eyes to the Supernatural world could be catastrophic right now, considering her already almost catatonic state of mind at that moment, he decided to try and clam her down before dropping any bombshells. ‘You s-saved me? How?’ ‘I don’t-’ He thought on his feet, covering his tracks. ‘… I was trapped too’ He lied. ‘I saw you there, all, uh, bloody and stuff… and those, two guys back there, they have a bit if a problem with, well… with me.’  Though weak, human, and a little bit bloody, the ex-Archangel never ceased to do what he did best, trick. His lies were woven in such a casual manner, little did he care for the latter effects of each tall tale, if the lie worked at that earlier moment, it was sure to work later, was it not? ‘There was this crazy, uhm, flash of light,’ he gestured, ‘I managed to escape! On my way out, I grabbed you, you were all limp and bloody, then BAM, there was this big flash! Don’t know where it came from, kind of just, took me away.  But, hey, here we are.’ A silence filled the scene for a small time, her eyes clearing up a little as she slowly composed herself. Wren finally piped up again. ‘Why do you have that?’ she asked, referring to the silver blade he held in his hand. ‘Oh, uhm, this?’ He gestured to the Archangel blade, ‘It’s what I used to fight off those assholes back there, it must have gotten swept up in the blast’ He lied again. The two strangers shared another idle moment, they stood in the wildwood clearing, not knowing much of what to say or what to do. ‘How did that big light happen?’ she asked, her fingers shaking as she clutched her chest, cowering in the cold. ‘Hell if I know, it just sort of, did.’ he replied.

Wren felt she had so many questions, she was scared, lost and alone with some strange man who she just knew would ruin her life all over, this was certainly something she was highly unprepared for. Finally she had been happy with her life for the first time in a long time, then there was him, this stranger had come along to steal it all away. Amongst all this chaos, there he was. Gabe, The man who had given her the keys too freedom, only to thieve them back in the most horrible, spectacular of ways.

In the silence, Gabriel pondered. He realised that letting the girl go off alone would only trap him in the same situation he had only just escaped. Crowley would do anything he could to get to him, the demons would already be doing their best to be on his tail, which meant that Gabriel needed to assure the girls safety, only for his own protection, however. Gabriel finally broke the silence, ‘Listen up Short-stack,’ he began, ‘If you want to stay safe, I suggest you stick with me for the moment. Those two guys will be trying their best to find me, give it a day or so and they’ll be tracking me already.’ ‘Can’t I-?… Look, I just want to go home.’ she continued. ‘No-can-do buddy, that’ll be the first place they look for you. And if they get to you, they’ll…” He pulled his finger along his neck, making a gross “sllllicceeee” sound with he mouth as he did so. ‘They’ll kill me?’ Wren asked ‘Yeah, and they’ll make sure you’re done for this time.’ he let out a small laugh under his breath. ‘Don’t worry though, the only reason they want you is because your associated.’ ‘With what?’ replied Wren ‘With me.’

‘Shouldn’t I just leave then? The farther away I am from you, the better.’ ‘No, don’t be stupid, did splitting up ever work out for Scooby and Shaggy?’ ‘Yeah, it did, actually…’ Wren replied with composure. Gabriel trailed off trying to explain himself, ultimately, he convinced “Splitting up makes you more vulnerable”. ‘Look, Short-stack, right now, you have nowhere else to go. It looks like a long, lonely, dark highway in either direction’ He pointed out to the void of blackness in front of them ‘And, unless you want to heighten the chances of imminent death, sticking with me is the better option.’

The thing is, Wren did not trust Gabe one bit, she did not trust much of a word that came out of his mouth. There were two things that she was sure of, however,  One; he was bloody, theoretically, he fought to escape those two men that captured her. This, however, did not guarantee her own safety. Gabe had already spoken of the bad blood between him and her captors which couldn’t be good for her at all. And two; It was true, she had no where else to go. What was she to do? Even her home wasn’t safe anymore. Oh, how Wren would have loved to sever all ties with Gabe at that moment, but she knew leaving the stranger would lead to her own vulnerability, and even death. She decided she would stick it out until she was somewhere near a Police station, and then she would hotfoot it as faraway from him as humanly possible.   She had no choice. Corporation was her only option, for the moment. The only place she had right now was with Gabe, like it or not.

‘My names Wren’ Finally she spoke, a weakness behind her voice. She noticed that much of the pain she had once felt pulsating on her palm had lessened, she looked to the unnatural spectacle, curious as to what was causing the reddish glow. The light unblinding now, she could see the scar carved into her flesh under a sheet of dry blood. ‘Do you know what this symbol is?’ she held out hand.

How long was he to keep her out of the know? It would be spectacularly hard to explain the events that has just transpired to her without some leak of the truth, and so Gabriel had decided he would tell her, some of it, and only just that amount, one baby bombshell at a time.

‘Okay, settle down buttercup, ‘cos I’m about to blow your mind. I’m, what they call, a Hunter…’ he lied. 

—- CHAPTER 6

[archafic]

ARCHA 4.

“A dark force is brewing just beyond humanities reach. Behind the scenes, Crowley plots something sinister, unbeknownst to the Winchester brothers. Gabriel had been in hiding, he didnt expect to believe that anyone knew he was alive, and yet, here he was, front and centre. Gabriel was now nothing more than trapped and seemingly powerless, and swept up with him was that stupid girl, who had so accidentally been thrown in his world of angelic crazy.”

Word Count: 1500+ per chapter

MASTERLIST / ABOUT

FIRST / PREVIOUS / NEXT

CHAPTER 4: LIGHT

With a blazing flash of white light and the silencing sound of white noise, the serene quiet of Vermont was abruptly awoken. A crater in the earth that spread some meter’s, knocking over trees around it, manifested with the bright flash. At the collisions centre stood a bloody man clutching a skinny girl, his arms wrapped tightly around her waist as well as a large sliver knife in his left hand. As the light darkened and the serenity came creeping back, the man dropped to his knees, he rested the girls limp body onto the cold forest floor. It had gone from the middle of the day to the darkest of night in seemingly no time, the surge of power that the Archangel let loose had unwillingly thrown both him and the girl forward in time, as he had held her tight, the white surge of power had thrust them through times clutches, so far forward that the world had been engulfed into that evenings night. Gabriel cupped his throat, thick, velvety red blood slowly dripping down from where Agiel had stolen his grace, and yet, the deep gash had disappeared, the surge of power healed his wounds, however drained the last of his angelic power. 

Gabriel sat for a moment, allowing his vessels heart to slow. He snapped his fingers, half hoping that he would zap back away into hiding and be safe from all this madness, but no, it couldn’t possibly be that simple. Nothing happened. He tried again, and still, nothing. Gabriel looked up, the night stars sparkled and danced above, a gentle breeze blew through the air, lightly blowing across the trees, making a sort of endless wave through the leafs. Something felt different about his vessel. Sure, it had been the same vessel he had used for many a millennia now, but all of a sudden he felt more attached to it than ever, something tethered him to the strange fleshy prison he now had no choice but to inhabit. Gabriel could feel the wind against his cheek, not the uncontrollable force of mother nature he had know since the dawn of its creation, but the human-ish sense of it, of understanding at a non-angelic state, he didn’t understand how to feel about it, how it was to feel so very weak against mother natures forces. It was then that he realised, for the first time in an eternally long time, he was weak. The agony Gabriel felt pulsating through his vessels body was something that had seemingly been long forgotten from his being. He held the shining silver Arcangel blade in his left hand, he inspected it for a moment. Michael’s blade. How did Crowley get this? He thought as he examined the knife, realising it was the only thing he had to protect himself now since he had so rudely been plucked from his homestead.

Gabe then looked down to the girl he had unintentionally saved durning his great escape; her face was sharp, her palms muddied in her own blood, yet her jaw in perfect condition, much unlike it had been before the power surge was made. He rested the blade against her chest. My power must have healed her too? No wonder I'm totally drained. 

The one thing Gabriel did notice that certainly hadn’t been properly healed was the girls hand; a symbol meticulously carved into her flesh that still bared her own dried blood, the cut that Agiel sliced had now healed over and left a highly noticeable scar embedded in her flesh. The scar bared the sigil of Gabriel, an undeniable connection the two now shared, this, however, meant nothing to him. Her suffering had no impact, the only reason the girl was saved was because she could be used against him. To the fallen angel, human connected was nothing more than an abstract concept he had never truly known, something he had only abused to manipulate those who were once lower than himself.

The Human race; nothing more simple or stupid. To be human was to be manipulated, was to be controlled, was to have comfort in the face of an inevitable death that one knew nothing about. To be human was to be weak, and that was what Gabriel hated the most.

The girl started to stir as she lay on the cold forest floor, she began to blink her eyes open, squinting strangely as she attempted to decipher the situation. It took Wren a moment to see in the cold night’s darkness, however a bright full moon loomed over and illuminated the scene around her. As her sight adjusted, realisation set in. She understood that she was in a clearing, a wildwood surrounded one side of her and a dark black road that seemed to go off into a void of nothingness on the other. The girl hadn’t quite engaged into panic mode yet, which was impressive to say the least after the horrors that she had just experienced. As her eyes became atone to the evenings darkness, she noticed a shadowed figure standing above her, staring at her with familiar eyes, in shock, Wren felt an overwhelming sense of déjà vu. She became aware of the fact that the scene currently playing in front of her very eyes was none other than the one she had dreamed. Finally, she realised, it was him. The shadowing figure looming over her, the man from her dream, he was the same man that had opened the door to her apartment and given her the key’s to freedom, to her new life. The man that she wished she would never have to see again, because if he were to return, it would be to ask for his keys back.

Wren continued to lay, unable to find any words to break the chalky, echoing silence. She felt her jaw, it wasn’t aching the way she remembered it had before unconsciousness overcame her. Most of the agony she had endured seemed nothing more than a far off dream from another life, except for one, a burning sensation was slowly overcoming her left hand. A sting began to crawl around her palm and quickly seared into a pulsating pain, seemingly on fire. It forced Wren to sit up and examine the ache. As she sat up, the heavy metallic thing that sat agains her chest rolled away to the forest floor, she noticed it doing so and realised what that thing was; the same knife those two men had held so threateningly towards her earlier, so she wasn’t safe after all? The girls heart began to race again, she knew she had to run away from anyone who possessed such a weapon as that, all it could bring was evil. Wren began to crawl backwards, and yet the man continued only to stare at her, as if she a wild animal. Stick’s and twigs littering the forest floor protruded into her knees as she attempted to shuffle away from the man and his blade, the burning sensation in her hands, too, began to intensify.

Gabriel finally snapped out of the daze he had been in, for a moment, he had began to contemplate the whole of his existence as an almighty being, much in comparison to the weak little thing he had saved. The girl, who was now shuffling away from him in an awkward fashion, looked towards him with an expression of fear in her eyes. Why was she trying to run? He did not know.

Gabriel looked to her, saying very little and portraying an expression of distaste and confusion.

The girl began to whimper a breathy cry, she slowly stood up and clutched her right hand, she stared at it, her face expressing fear and uncertainty towards the scar carved into her flesh. Gabriel began to stride towards her slowly, he could see how alarmed she was, but did not care to calm her. He knelt down and picked up the Archangel blade that once belonged to his brother. The girl froze, she stood staring at the stranger in front of her. To Wren, he walked towards her in a harrowing fashion, he held at the sharp blade in his hand. As he grew closer, her scarred hand began to set itself on an even intenser internal fire. Now a pulsating, reddish glowing colour, the scar on her right hand illuminated the twos faces even more, radiating the same light as a campfire would, it pulsed slightly, in a strange median state.

The girls breathing was heavy, agony cast behind her words, ‘Wh-’ she let out a small yelp as her scar burnt deep behind her flesh, ‘Who are you?’ she finally asked. Gabriel stopped for a moment, Who was he? Cast out, alone, alone for an everlastingly long time. His grace, stolen from him. Now a powerless angel trapped in a fleshy prison. Who was he anymore, what was he?

Human.

Gabriel was nothing more, nor nothing less, than human.

—- CHAPTER 5

[archafic]

ARCHA 3.

“A dark force is brewing just beyond humanities reach. Behind the scenes, Crowley plots something sinister, unbeknownst to the Winchester brothers. Gabriel had been in hiding, he didnt expect to believe that anyone knew he was alive, and yet, here he was, front and centre. Gabriel was now nothing more than trapped and seemingly powerless, and swept up with him was that stupid girl, who had so accidentally been thrown in his world of angelic crazy.”

Word Count: 1500+ per chapter

MASTERLIST / ABOUT

FIRST / PREVIOUS / NEXT

CHAPTER 3: SIGIL

The stout man fiddled with the shiny, sliver blade for a moment, he looked to the heavens, his voice echoing though the stillness of the empty hall. ‘Here’s the deal, Archangel, I know you can hear me. Why not Come out to say hello?’ A quiet nothingness filled the hall. The stout man looked to Wren, who now sat limp in a slightly bloodied chair, her lip bleeding a deep red and jaw askew. Agiel stood above her, shoulders back and stern, his eyes an inky black, he looked proud to have stolen her conciseness away.

For a moment, nothing was said, the sharply dressed man waited, seemingly in anticipation for something, or someone? ‘Last chance, Gabriel.’  he continued, a spite in his harsh voice. The echoing silence carried on, this “Gabriel” obviously had better places to be and better things to do than to worry about some girl and her captors. ‘Very well…’ continued the man, he the preceded to click his two fat fingers together, the sound bouncing off the peeling wall’s. As he did so, an antique vase manifested on the floor in front of him in a blink-and-you’d-miss-it moment. 

Strange symbols were carved into the sides of the ancient vase, it seemed to be filled with some sort of clear oily liquid. The stout man picked up the strange artefact, carful not to spill a single drop. He poured a large circle with the liquid on the coarse wooden floor beneath him, the man then gestured to Agiel, who continued to stand sternly above the limp girl. The stout man handed Agiel the strange silver knife, and with it he turned back to the limp girl. Holding the object tightly, he took to Wren’s upturned arms and began to slice open Wren’s left hand, carving a strange triangular symbol into her flesh with much precision. If Wren had at all been awake, this would have inflicted an unforgettable amount of pain. Each slice pierced deep into her flesh as an unthinkable amount of blood oozed out, each cut peeling back her soft skin and squeezing out a flood of velvety red. Once finished, Agiel purposefully soaked his hands in the oozing red blood, it shined against his skin. He walked over to the circle of oily liquid that the stout man had poured, each footstep precise, purposeful, as if he had unique control over every limb. With his bloody palm, Agiel placed his hand on the wooden floor inside the circle. He began to weave his hand against the floor, drawing something strange with Wren’s blood, making each motion intricately precise, immaculate. Once finished, what Agiel drew appeared to be identical to the bloody scar sliced into Wren’s flesh. The stout man inspected Agiel’s handiwork for a moment, making sure of its immaculacy. He looked it up, and down, then shifted his head slowly back to Agiel, the stout man nodded at him knowingly, approving the actions that would follow. With some force, the sharply dressed man smacked his fat hand down onto the wooded floor below, it landed centred, atop of the bloody sigil drawn and grand flash of light engulfed the room, blinding the two men that stood around the strangely in order, bloody scene. The men shielded their eyes as the piercing white light manifested into the shape of a human man, he emerged in angelic light. The stout man snapped his fingers yet again, this time, bringing the circle of oil to life. A spark appeared, swallowing the circle of oil, turning it into a ring of blazing red fire.

Short in stature, the man that came forth from the blinding light possessed blondish locks that slid behind his ears, his hair reached to the nape of his neck. He appeared well kept, to some extent, however an obvious impression of laziness lulled around his composure. His brownish coloured eyes darted around the hall, a slight look of confusion upon his face. As soon as his body became less light and more solid, he lunged toward the two men that watched him idly, a smugness upon their faces. Before any major advancement could be made by the Angelic man, Agiel threw a small woven bag into the circle, it appeared to contain strange herbs, bones and other plants, it possessed the same strange sigil that had so bloodily been carved into Wren’s flesh, sewn into its front. Mid stride, the Angelic man was knocked back into the centre of the burning ring, immobile, he struggled against the supernatural force holding him still.

‘Tsk, tsk, tsk. You didn't expect that I wouldn't think ahead? You’re powerless here, Gabriel’ The stout man chuckled sarcastically, ‘Now that we’re all accounted for, I have a proposal to make with you, darling.’ his eyes stoic and dark toward the trapped Archangel.   ‘Oh please! You think you can just summon me like that and think that I won’t be pissed? Theres now way’ll i’ll agree to any offer from you Crowley.’ ‘Thats where I disagree-’ ‘Uh-uh, I’m not finished Bucko’ Gabriel cut in, ‘Heres the thing, you’re forgetting, who I am. I have more power than you could ever dream of, buddy. I don’t need you, I don't need anyone.’ Gabriel replied, sweat dripping down his forehead as the ring of fire heated his skin. ‘Yes, yes, whatever. If I thought you were going to agree with me would I have gone so out of my way to keep you powerless? Persuasion is pain, Gabriel.’ Gabriel looked to the man darkly, ‘How’d ‘ya do it then? How did you bottle my Archangel-ness, how did you even summon me? I’ve been off the grid for years.’   ‘Oh, Gabriel, the naivety of you.’ He spat ‘It’s all simple really. Don’t act surprised, I keep tabs on every triple winged bastard, dead or alive. Blood spill, a little bit of holy oil and a touch of ancient hex magic will summon almost anything.’ Gabriel noticed the blood that made up the sigil beneath him, he noticed a stranger slouched over a bloody chair afar from him, it had to be her blood. ‘That’s all Agiel’s work of course, quite the artisan if you ask me. You’re no threat to me, your powerless.’ Gabriel looked to the man angrily.

‘I need your help.’ Crowley began, ‘You’ve always been a bystander when it came to Holy war’s, but now you have the chance to make a difference, stick it to the big man for a change? Aren't you sick of those Angelic filth up there, running the show? The God Squad is a wreck, Gabriel.” ‘The answer is no. I have my own agenda, you asshat. The “God Squad” is none of my business, as far as they know I’m dead.’ ‘No need to be so hasty’ Crowley irked, ‘Demons are a dying breed, without us, there is no you.’ ‘Without you, there is just them, not me, I left a long time ago.’ ‘I’ll make this easy for you. All you need to do is say yes, join me. All I’m asking is that you offer your alliance with me, you would be a great asset, having an inside man with access to Heavens gates could make our victory a reality. If you joined me, and we win, you’ll finally be respected again, not just some runaway, long dead.’ ‘I have all the power I need, nothing you say will sway me, so just piss off. Get out of here before the hex wares off  and I rip you and your friends heart out.’ ‘Is that you’re final decision?’ Gabriel looked to Crowley with a face of great disgust, ‘Yes.’ he spat, venom behind his voice. ‘Fine.’ Crowley smiled deviously, he waved his hand to the other Demon, Agiel.

As Gabriel stood there, powerless, he looked back to the limp body tied down to the chair afar from him, he realised who the figure was; It was her, the girl he had so stupidly sold his old apartment too. ‘So that’s how you found me, her?’ He asked ‘Our skin barley touched, I should have known i was being watched, how did you know where I was living?’ A bleak silence filled the room, Crowley was not one to reveal all his secrets. ‘I should have just gone,’ he continued ‘Shouldn't have sold the damn place, I should have just left.’ he muttered. ’It was stupid of me to act so human.’ a lick of self loathing lingering behind his words. ‘Yes, it was.’ replied Agiel smugly, he began to walk forward toward the powerless Archangel.

With each foot placed precisely in front of the other, Agiel reached the circle of holy fire, gripping the sharp silver blade in one hand and a small, glass bottle in the other. Taking a large stride over the boiling hot flames, he eagerly stepped into the bloody circle, now face to face with Gabriel, an uncontrollable force of nature under any other circumstance. 

Agiels inky eye’s made a intense stare to Gabriel's honey coloured. He brought up the sliver knife to Gabriel neck, laying its sharp end just atop Gabriel's adams-apple, the Archangel flinched. Pressing harder into his flesh, the demon Agiel pulled the knife slowly along the Archangels flesh, Gabriel breathed with agony, and yet held a stoic and disgusted look at Agiels gaze. The demon had sliced a small slit that a deep red blood had begun to bleed out of, not only that, but also a strange, golden, translucence essence seeped out with it, unlike his earthly blood, however, the essences instead attempted to ascend. Agiel brought up his other hand, the small glass bottle held tight in it. As the essence seeped out of Gabriel's bloody wound the demon pushed the bottle closer to the slit, it began to suck the translucence essence in at a fast pace. Gabriel immediately began to push his head backward with all his force, immobile as he was, if he focused hard enough he would be able to gather up enough energy to lean his head back farther. With all his might, the Archangel pushed against the supernatural force holding him captive and leaned his head back in an agonising thrust. He had leaned far enough away that the essence had stopped flowing so smoothly into Agiels bottle and, instead, hovered strangely around the open wound. This essence was Gabriels Angelic grace, it was the physical manifestation of his power. Agiel took a final step forward, bringing the bottle closer yet to Gabriel's neck. The bottle had now sapped most of Gabriel's grace from him, his power had, for the most part, been stolen.

For just this moment, the demon had become unaware of his surroundings and his new human body, Agiel had taken a single misstep, breaking out of his immaculately precise routine of walk, his large foot came falling down when he strode closer to a leaning Gabriel, crushing the woven Hex bag full of herbs and breaking it with his foot. Agiel had unintentionally freed the Archangel of his confines. A look of horror, Agiel had made the stupid mistake of becoming unaware for just a short moment.

Gabriel could suddenly move freely inside the circle, however the holy fire kept him from going any further, most of his grace was gone, he only had one last burst of real power left in him. He stretched his hands for a moment, while he couldn't use most his power, he could use his strength. After a short moment of revelation of his freedom, Gabriel grabbed his hand tight around the demon Agiel’s neck, he still held the bottle of grace tight in his hand. ‘I told you I would kill you’ spat Gabriel, squeezing the demon’s tiny neck with all his might. ‘I still have the girl, Archangel, if you run I’ll just catch you again, she’s an instant door to you.’ Crowley irked, looking on from beyond the flames. The mighty Archangel, now turned nearly human, shoved Agiel backward with all his force, landing the demons heavy set body into the boiling ring of fire. Agiel’s face began to burn, his flesh simmering against the hellish heat, and a black smoke seeped out of the body’s melting mouth, flying away. Crowley lunged toward the burning corpse, snatching up the bottle of grace and swiftly shoving it in his pocket, he looked to Gabriel fearfully. On the boiling ring of fire still lay Agiels limp body. The now dead corpse of Agiels vessel had become a bridge to freedom from Gabriel's fiery prison. Crowley looked on, speechless. The Archangel had to act quickly, or face this confrontation yet again if Crowley managed to steal the girl away. He was weak, too weak to expect to win a fight against Crowley. He had already drained much of his strength dealing with Agiel. Picking up the blade that Agiel’s dead vessel still held on to, Gabriel couldn't have been thinking straight when he leaped over the burning corpse that had forced a gap in the holy fire. He lunged past a stunned Crowley, knowing he was in no state to win a confrontation with him. Gabriel leapt toward the limp girl. Grabbing her tightly, he unleashed the last of his power in one mighty blast. In a blinding flash of angelic light Gabriel zapped as far away as he possibly could, not thinking of where, but simply “far, far away”, in one blinding blink of an eye he and the bloody girl had disappeared.

---- CHAPTER 4

[archafic]

ARCHA 2.

“A dark force is brewing just beyond humanities reach. Behind the scenes, Crowley plots something sinister, unbeknownst to the Winchester brothers. Gabriel had been in hiding, he didnt expect to believe that anyone knew he was alive, and yet, here he was, front and centre. Gabriel was now nothing more than trapped and seemingly powerless, and swept up with him was that stupid girl, who had so accidentally been thrown in his world of angelic crazy.”

Word Count: 1500+ per chapter

MASTERLIST / ABOUT

FIRST / PREVIOUS / NEXT

CHAPTER 2: SMOKE

Wren inspected the hall around her, looking to each student, she studied them briefly trying to deduce what was the matter.

Her eyes darted around the room until turning upward, in a somewhat lucky break, she had discovered the source of what had been so off-putting, she must have caught it out of the corner of her eye. An air-conditioning vent above had began to chuff out a dark, chalky, black smoke. Her hand shot upwards. ‘Professor! The vent!’ she yelled in a shrill manner, interrupting his speech, suddenly making the rest of the class blatantly aware of the issue.  

As the black fog began to engulf the room, the Professor quickly became a distant foggy figure. When other students noticed the black smoke seeping into the room they immediately gathered their things and a panic began to ensued. A roaring alarm blared through the school speakers. A manic rush to the exit lefts students stampeding. Wren, too, grabbed her things, the black smoke thickening and becoming harder to see through as she did so. She began to run towards the exit, the smoke blurring her vision. Wren noticed the Professor followed her closely behind, he managed to run past, tripping her over with his foot when he went by. She fell to the floor and his figure quickly disappeared into the inky smoke that fled towards the exit. Wren continued to hobble along on all fours, standing back up as she did so. Feeling around, she managed to find a row of chairs and attempted to climb over them hoping it would provide a freer exit. As she climbed, Wren managed to get her ankle trapped between two chairs, she had found herself falling face first onto the floor below, yet again.

The hall was quiet now, it could be guessed that most, if not all of the other students had managed to escape before being blinded by the thick smokiness, unfortunately, she had severely lagged. Wren wondered if the Professor had made it out okay too? At first it was easy to assumed the smoke came from that of a fire, yet was she to feel any warmth seeping through the thick fog, however. What is this?

‘I had her, she got away when the smoke go thicker.’ Through the blackness, she heard voices, one of which was certainly the voice of the Professor lecturing earlier, So he didn't make it out? Wren stood up, ‘Professor! I’m here! I can't see! Where are you?!’ her voice shriller than it had been before, it was high as she yelled through the smoke, it thickening around her. The smoke had turned the hall into a void of foggy darkness, It seemed to have drowned out the windows sunlight.

The girl froze.

She couldn't run, she couldn't see a thing, she certainly could not escape. Lost and afraid, all Wren could do now was wait, wait for the smoke to engulf her lungs and drown her away forever. It was in that moment of adrenaline that she impulsively made the decision to fight, she hadn't given up yet and wasn't about to. Again, she dropped down to all fours, feeling the cold wooden floor beneath her fingers, disoriented and confused, Wren tried her best to feel her way around. ‘Professor!’ she yelled again, hoping that he would hear her this second time. That was the moment two large hands clutch her from the void of darkness. The hands wrapped around her chest, pulling her into a firm embrace, she was saved. Whoever was holding the skinny girl seemed to be doing so with superior ease, to Wren, it felt like she a feather, in the hands of a giant. ‘I have her.’ The voice spoke in a strikingly familiar fashion, yet somewhat off. Wren suddenly realised that the voice and the strong hands were that of the Professor’s, his voice, his inflections, were strange however. She noticed, strangely, that as soon as he had spoken the smoke had lightened, it was beginning to clear, she could even begin to see light piercing through the blackness. The Professor clutching her stopped walking, however he continued to grip her tight. Why haven't we left the building yet?

The smoke had now cleared enough that she could see the shiny wooden floor beneath. When suddenly the loud slam of the closing front door shook and startled the girl. She was able to see the way out now, as the smoke had cleared enough. ‘Professor, I’m okay, I can walk now’ a fearfulness lingered around her words. No response. ‘Professor, let me go.’ Again, nothing. Wren began to struggle from the Professors grip, something was wrong, something was horribly wrong. As she struggled, Wren could feel his hands tightened around her. She began to break into a flailing fit, each limb struggling to fight against his unusual strength. ‘Let me go!’ she yelled, his grip only tightening. Through her yelling, Wren began to hear footsteps strolling towards them, a particularly dramatic, slow footstep echoed. A thick, sinister english tone broke through the sound of her yells. ‘Hello, darling’ he spoke, a certain ominous deepness about this stranger's voice that Wren had never heard before. ‘Who is that? Who are you?’ She questioned as she struggled in the Professor's arms. This figure was distanced from her sight, the now light layer of smoke turning him into a blurred silhouette. Be brave she told herself, over and over. Wren lessened her struggling as it obviously had no strain on the Professor, instead attempted to bite his arm that gripped tight around her chest, this did near to nothing. The Professor shot the girl a filthy look, he proceeded to slap her across the face. At first she didn't realise what had happened, and then an agonising sting engulfed Wrens cheek, she could feel the pain of his handprint burn into her flesh as the rest of her faced warmed and felt although it had turned red in pain. She broke down into tears, each droplet cooling the pain radiating from where the Professor hand has stung deep into her cheek.

‘Sit her down, Agiel’ the dark voice commanded. She was shoved down onto a chair. As she fell to the seat, one of the Professor's hands gripped tight around Wrens throat. Taut and forceful, his grip maimed any hope of her escape. Her eyes began to well up even more, fear rattling the petrified girl. She was shaking uncontrollably, feeling utterly trapped, no escape whatsoever seemed possible, a feeling of pure terror. She felt something tight wrap around her body, unmistakably rope, they had tied the girl down to a chair. The Professors free hand grabbed her own, he had tightened Wrens wrists to the arms of the chair, however, strangely, had faced the girls palms and hands upward. With her arms bound, the Professor finally released her throat, though it had hardly been a fair fight. Wren sputtered out, coughing and gasping for air, her lungs seemingly on fire, it felt as though they were screaming. Tears continued to stream down her cheeks as she attempted to regain some composure, her hands still shaking in trepidation.

The smoke had finally cleared. Standing before the meek girl were two figures, the Professor, keeping an unshaken gaze toward her, and another man, a shadow seemed to linger about this stranger. His body stout, hair a dark brown, a receding hairline framed his round face and a thick stubble sheathed his jaw, his dark eyes looked to Wren, deep into her soul.

‘Now that we're all here, I do believe it’s time to get down to business.’ his British tone piercing through the terrifying stillness of the hall. ‘Agiel, if you please’ he continued, his arm motioning toward the Professor, whom, for whatever reason, he was calling “Agiel”. Agiel stuck his hand in his coat pocket, unsheathing a large, shiny, silver object, its end sharp, it glinted in the sunlight from the window. It was a blade of some kind, Wren had never seen anything like it before, needless to say, her shaking became even more aggressive upon seeing the sharp object. He handed the weapon to the stout man, as he did so, Agiel turned his eyes towards Wren once more, this time they flickered to an unmistakable inky black, engulfing his entire eye. She immediately began to panic again, Wrens heart began erupting with beats and breaths, huffing at an uncontrollable speed, it felt like she was hyperventilating. ‘HELP!’ A breathy yell slipped out of her lungs, the amount of agony and desperation that lingered in her voice at that moment was something she had never experience before, it felt like it wasn't real. ‘AGIEL! Would you shut her up?” The British man spat. Wren immediately turned her vision toward Agiel, expecting another blow to her head. Agiels fist curl up, she braced herself for the pain that would follow; The impact that hit was unbelievable, shattering as she felt his fist burn into her face. The agony that followed ached so much so that her vision quickly blurred, she was driven into a state of unconsciousness, the blackness swallowed her sight and the agony drifted away. She thought for a moment; what if this was all dream? What if I had really just decided to stay in bed this morning, what if that’s where I am right now? In bed, at home, at the only home i’ve ever know, the only real home I've ever had. Was I? Is that where I am? A part of her panicking mind was screaming “NONE OF THIS IS REAL”, that everything that had happened was just a fleeting dream, soon to drift away with her unconscious,  wandering mind. And yet, another part of her screamed the opposite; “WAKE UP!” it yelled, “FIGHT!”.

Oh, if I only I had stayed in bed this morning.

---- CHAPTER 3

[archafic]

ARCHA 1.

“A dark force is brewing just beyond humanities reach. Behind the scenes, Crowley plots something sinister, unbeknownst to the Winchester brothers. Gabriel had been in hiding, he didnt expect to believe that anyone knew he was alive, and yet, here he was, front and centre. Gabriel was now nothing more than trapped and seemingly powerless, and swept up with him was that stupid girl, who had so accidentally been thrown in his world of angelic crazy.”

Word Count: 1500+ per chapter

MASTERLIST / ABOUT

FIRST / PREVIOUS / NEXT

“What a piece of work is man, how noble in reason, how infinite in faculty, in form and moving how express and admirable. In action how like an angel, in apprehension how like a god, the beauty of the world, the paragon of animals.” - William Shakespear

CHAPTER 1: DREAMS

My skin felt keen against the icy ground. Sharp articles slightly protruded into my back, as a biting chill melted over my body. I lay flat, something median sat against my chest, it too was cold, metallic cold. I dug my fingers into the ground around me, it crumbled, like earth. Dirt. A sharp, brisk breeze shook through the air surrounding my icy body. I could hear trees, branches scraping and tearing against each other, they were close, just out of arm's reach, so it sounded. I opened my eyes, bright moonlight piercing through them. As my sight balanced I continued to lay still. I looked up. I found myself distinguishing branches. The tops of needle like Pine pricked the sky above. Pine trees painted as silhouettes against a dark blue sky. I was in a wildwood. A dark figure loomed over me, the mood light and darkness casting a shadow, masking their face My hand began to burn.

-----

Cold. All she could remember was the cold, overwhelming, shattering, It made her feel alive. 

Her dream, like a fleeting memory of another world faded away as the sound of  a manic alarm pierced through the quiet sounds of morning. She lay for a moment, keeping her eyes shut and state of mind dreamy, attempting to recollect what she could from the night before. It was so familiar, the overwhelming feeling of cold that she could recall. It was so vivid, like no other dream she could remember. Shuffling forward, she felt around her bed sheets, when her hand met it’s metallic cold touch she quickly snatched up her phone. The alarm, that had so annoyingly been blaring through the quiet sounds of morning, was shut off with no lack of haste. It was then that the girl went to open her ‘notes’ on the device, this was where all of her peculiar dreams were kept. She typed down all she could recall, her fingers missing some letters as she wrote with haste.

Cold 

Laying down

Windy

Night

Her memory was fleeting, escaping her mind, she typed quickly.

Person

How hard she tried to remember this stranger, however her memory was so quick to disappear, all Wren could recall now was a blur of a face. She rested her phone down, she was done, annoyed at the fact that her subconscious couldn't find the strength to recall the strangers face. The bed was warm, it’s soft homeliness calling, “stay, just stay.”. That’s all she really wanted to do, just to sleep the day away and pretend that she didn't have a single care in the whole wide world. Sleeping, of course, was one of Wrens favourite pass times. She found it was where reality had no place, where she could wander her own unconscious mind and have no need to worry about such useless thing’s as money, or college, or work. As much as she would have liked to stay, she couldn't. Sitting up, she rolled herself out of bed, each muscle aching after yet another restless night. Her right shoulder, in particular, ached a sharp pain. It was nothing she couldn't handle however, sleeping in peculiar positions seemed to be something she had always been particularly skilled at. Her little bedroom was messy to say the least; shorts, jeans, shirts and more scattered across a shag carpeted floor in a manner not unlike a child’s bedroom, since she had finally had a home of her own, small as it may be, Wren had become particularly more slack in cleaning department. Not having caretakers or roommates breathing down her neck to clean every five minutes had led to an exceedingly more lax version of what she already was. To be honest, her room wasn't too far from becoming a bit of a nightmare. Her feet squished into the carpet on top of the floor, the shag had been mostly worn away from so many years of different feet pitter pattering over it. In its current state, the carpet sat as a dirty, old imitation of what it once was, soft and warm. The previous tenant mustn’t have kept very good care of the place. She thought. Wrens short hair lay slightly messy, the night before leaving it voluminous with few kinks and knots, she quickly changed into casual dress. Her greenish eyes darted toward the phone, its digital clock skipping to the following number. Not wanting to be late, the girls internal overdrive engaged as she began to speed around her tiny apartment. Grabbing her old satchel, she rushed into the apartments kitchen, a white laminate bench top opened out to the main living area and the floor became a white, cold tile, it was small, but for the first time in all her life, it was a real home. Running to the fridge, Wren shoved a day-old sandwich into her satchel and headed for the front door, only to turn around again realising she stupidly had forgotten her house keys. Without the shortest moment of haste she rushed back inside. Running around like a madman, stumbling back into her messy little bedroom, tossing the mess around in search of her house keys. Finding no luck she ran back to the kitchen to search, this was when she had noticed the old keys sitting on the bench, had they been there before and she simply hadn't noticed? Realising that time was skipping by, she made a leap for the thick, rotting, wooden front door, locking it behind her. Jaunting towards a faded blue, rusty old bicycle, she took off down the winding main road.

An icy fog hooded the coastline that morning as she made her way down the winding seaboard. A blue sky meekly peaked through the thick white fog overhead, car after car rushing past, heading down the coast. The wind whipped in the girls face, she gripped tightly to her bike handles. A lump sat in her enclosed fist, the house keys that were still gripped tightly in her hand, they continued to rattle while she road along the winding asphalt, Wren thought for a moment of the day she received them;

I arrived to the lot, the building was small and stubby, weeds and dead plants riddled its front garden. It was small, very small in fact. A musty white colour and weedy front, the squarish apartment sat on the ground floor and looked out to a quiet street in Halifax Hills. It’s front door was old, rustic and wooden, it sat with a pale stain and a musty coat of paint that looked as though it hadn't been fixed in many years. The previous owner wanted to get rid of the property as quickly and as quietly as he could, which was how I found his offer; through a somewhat sketchy, classified advertisement site. The seller’s particulars were odd, but I didn't want to miss the chance;

FOR SALE  (3/3 Pepromeno Street, Halifax Hills, OR) $150 / 1br   AM MOVING OUT URGENT TENAT NEEDED

I had been particularly giddy in the weeks leading up to my move into the dodgy old building. It was really the first time in all my life that I finally had a place of my own, when I had previously been in and out of grotty motel’s with even sketchier owners. To put it shortly, I was no newbie to the world of sketchy realestate. It took me a while to find “Pepromeno Street”, I drove around the unknown town and became somewhat lost. I ended up asking a tall man, lingering along the sidewalk where the building I was looking for was, he informed me that it was actually right in front of the place.

I knocked on the ancient door, small bits of its aged old wood splintered out of a dent where many others had apparently knocked before. I heard the creak of footsteps run up to the entrance from the other side. With a couple of clicks the door slid open slightly, a brown eye peaked out at me for a moment, ‘Hi, I’m here to get the keys for the building?’ I asked the owner. He opened up the door slightly further, revealing his roundish face and blond locks, he stuck out his head and observed the street behind me, seemingly looking to see if I had been followed. He then reached out his hand from the half-open door, something slightly jingling in them. For a brief moment, our skin touched when he passed the keys over too me, the keys not only to my new home, but to a new life.

Wren powered on down the winding road, rugged and hilly beneath the coarse screeching of her bicycle tires, when finally she reached the threadbare buildings of the local community college, sea sprayed paint peeling off each building's white walls. She quickly parked her bike and raced toward the lecture hall, managing to slightly trip as she did so. The building was large, sea spray from the ocean below had chipped away at the paint after so many years of low maintenance. This building functioned as the largest hall on campus, it was nothing spectacular, but it did the job it was given, as any good thing should.

Entering the hall, she sat down near the front of the room. The hall was built in an amphitheatre type manner, each chair placed on a downhill angle so that each student could view the lecturer on the stage at the front of the room, it was as traditional as a thing could get, and was really quite dull too, Wren thought. The Professor, who’s name she could not recall, arrived. He began to do his job, strangely, he kept a occasional darting eye toward Wren as her attention dozed in an out. He continued to lecture on and on about Art history that honestly bored poor Wren to death. For whatever reason, her thoughts lingered on the vivid dream from the night before. Her eyes wandered out to a large window looking out to sea to the left of her, she had noticed that the thick morning fog was beginning to clear.

Dreams, like echo’s, so slightly out of reach that it hindered and frustrated her very much so. She could recall remembering a figure standing above her in the strange dream, so familiar, yet so unknown.

Her thoughts wandered for some time, half an hour or so had passed, through that half-hour Wren kept having to remind herself to pay attention to class. As the clock ticked on, she found her eyes drifting out to the window yet again, her thoughts deepening, the tick of the clock lulling her into a state of deep thought. It was then that a sudden chill fell over her body, her hairs stood on their ends, tearing the girl away from her deep pondering thoughts. She was suddenly abruptly aware, a subtle sense of panic lingered about. She looked around the hall, nothing seemed out of the ordinarily, an ocean of bored students faces peppered the amphitheatre, nevertheless, Wren knew something was off and was determined to find out what.

---- CHAPTER 2

[archafic]

ARCHA: MASTERLIST / ABOUT

UPDATE BLOG

Word count: 16,000+ 

Status: Ongoing

Warnings: Contains themes of blood and horror. 

ARCHA is a fan fiction set in the universe of SUPERNATURAL. It contains references to events that occurred from season 2 - 9, watch your step for spoilers. Archa takes place in an unspecified time after season 9, it ignores the other events of the seasons that follow.

ARCHA is a redemption story about the Archangel Gabriel.

BLURB:

Smoke. Black, inky, the manifestation of darkness in physical from. She had been the first to notice it slowly seeping through the air vents and down to the room below. A stampede to the exits, they all escaped, but not her. She was trapped. She waited for the smoke to engulf her lungs, but it did not. Blackness, then blood. Blood from the palm of her hand, and then only darkness. What did she do to deserve this? No. It was not her doing. It was him, Gabriel. Then there was light.

“A dark force is brewing just beyond humanities reach. Behind the scenes, Crowley plots something sinister, unbeknownst to the Winchester brothers. Gabriel had been in hiding, he didnt expect to believe that anyone knew he was alive, and yet, here he was, front and centre. Gabriel was now nothing more than trapped and seemingly powerless, and swept up with him was that stupid girl, who had so accidentally been thrown in his world of angelic crazy.”

-

MASTERLIST

CHAPTER 1: DREAMS

CHAPTER 2: SMOKE

CHAPTER 3: SIGIL

CHAPTER 4: LIGHT

CHAPTER 5: HUMAN

CHAPTER 6: MORE

CHAPTER 7: STRATE

CHAPTER 8: SLEEP