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218: A lie my Father told me - The Sword of Heaven [entries|archive|friends|userinfo]
the Archangel Gabriel

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218: A lie my Father told me [Mar. 2nd, 2008  ~  10:45 pm]
the Archangel Gabriel
[mood |coldcold]

It's cold.

I'm dead.


I can remember bullets spiralling through me, one after the other, nicking ribs in their passage. One lodging in my scapula. Lungs perforating. Blood welling in my throat as I tried to finish the sentence I'd started, but then the ground rose up to claim me and then all was cold, and dark.

And the earth was without form, and void; and darkness was upon the face of the deep...

Like that. Reminds me of that time, of the waiting in the stillness for the spark, for the Light. For Him. And He spoke, and all things were good; He named me, He said, You are My child, Gabriel; I love you, from now until the end of time. Forever.

That was a long time ago. And I'm not waiting for the Light, right now; just for my body to get itself together. I've been hurt worse than this before-- bullets aren't so bad, you want real damage, you try getting in the way of a, a battering ram, that took days to come back from. But bullets... maybe an hour, two tops, until the holes knit themselves shut and I can feel again, hear again, see again.

I can wait.

Drifting like this, I got time to think. Think about what I'll do to those who're making this such a hassle. Yeahhh. Danyael. Deal with him. Then the woman, what's her name? Valerie? She and I, we're gonna have us a talk.

Maybe, good Lord willing, I'll run into a couple of the cops who shot me, too. Play some monkey games with them.

The dark is endless. Silence. Peaceful in its way, but I don't like hanging out here too long. Missin' things going on in the world, falling behind on events.


...I don't like the chance to think. Not for too long.

It's just the dark, just the cold, but it can get to you, it can mess you up-- start you doubting yourself, you know? Thinking thoughts that are crazy. Thinking how maybe, maybe this ain't how it's supposed to go. Thinking maybe I'm wrong.

I'm not. I'm not, but here in the grave, all sorts of thoughts come up on me...


Just the hint of it first, the brush of it against my cheek. And then that first lurch as my heart starts pumping again, and then the lungs... nervous system kicks back on, hearing, one after the other as I start returning to my body.

Vision's the last to come, so even as I'm shifting on the cold hard county morgue slab, even as I'm hearing the coroner rummage around, I'm still seeing the dark.

The last thought hits me before I open my eyes is, He lied.


gabriel * the prophecy series (movie) * word count: 461