The Hunters: Paranormal many shots

Angelic Mothers, Memories and Burning Assholes.

Annie stood frozen in place, her brain trying to process the sentence she'd just heard. Mother. This tall, bloodstained angel was Jared's mother. This would be her first time meeting her angelic boyfriend's mum and she was high as shit. She knew she should be panicking more, but her brain was weighed down by a thick fog of weed.

The brothers practically fell over each other trying to get to their mother first. In the end, they settled for an awkward group hug involving wings. Their mother was crying; golden drops of light shimmered in her eyes and rolled down her cheeks as she placed a kiss on each of their cheeks. When she came to Lucifer, a deep pain twisted her perfect features as a fresh wave of tears flowed down her face. She buried herself in his chest and he wrapped his arms around her. If the devil could cry...Annie watched the reunion, feeling a bit like an intruder to something private. She turned on her heels and left, quickly. She stumbled her way back to the beach and flopped down in the sand.

The sound of waves and the feel of the cold sand beneath her soothed her anxiety slightly. She couldn't help but think how bad she was at first impressions. The first time she'd met Jared had been at her job as a bartender for a criminal biker gang. The first time she'd met Paul was the day after, where she was having breakfast with a naked stranger that had murdered her employers the night before. The first time she'd met Jesus, she was half naked. Now, she was about to meet their mother and she was high as a kite and smelled like hot garbage. She sighed and looked up at the clouds.

"Maybe I'm in over my head," she thought. "I never really belonged in their world. Even with these new eyes, I still feel out of place. An imperfect human struggling to play divine."

She felt a warmth flood through her body and her mind began to clear. Her though process sped back up and the fog lifted. "So, you're the one my sons won't stop talking about."

The warmth vanished as icy stabs of fear prickled down her skin. Oh, shit. Annie swallowed the boulder that seemed to have lodged in her throat and sat up straight, sand clumps falling from her back and hair. She turned her body towards the voice. There she was. Mother of the archangels, standing a few feet away, one hip cocked to the side, hand resting upon it. The right side of her perfect lips was pulled up into a half-smile. Her golden hair waved lazily in the ocean breeze and seemed to reflect the sun...or was the sun reflecting it? She looked old enough to be Annie's sister. The lump returned.

The woman smiled and approached; each graceful step sent a pang of jealousy spiralling into Annie's stomach. How could anything so beautiful and perfect actually exist? She raised her hands. "Relax, love," she said, warmly. "I'm not going to bite." She stopped in front of Annie and fell down into a sit, crossing her legs. She sniffed the air in front of her. "I see you and Marcus spend a lot of time together."

Annie's cheeks burned red and she lowered her eyes, staring at patterns in the sand. She had no idea what to say. She felt so out of place and overwhelmed. This was God's lover, wife...the mother of God's children...what do you say to that? Hi, nice to meet you. I've been fucking one of your son's for almost a year, earth time, and smoking enough weed to kill Snoop Dogg with another. That just didn't seem like the best kind of introduction.

"H...he...hello," was all she could manage to get through the lump suffocating her throat.

The lady smiled. "I'm Angelia," she said, placing a slender hand on her chest.

Annie swallowed. "A...Annie."

Angelia smiled and the air around them seemed to tingle with warmth. Annie looked up from under her lowered gaze. She was wearing a simple white robe that reminded Annie of ancient Greece. Her blonde hair hung loosely across her shoulders and was tied into small braids and plaits in places. Her eyes were the colour of stone and seemed to sparkle. Her posture was casual, her hands resting gently upon her lap. Under normal circumstances, everything about this woman cried I'm relaxed and safe to talk to. These were not normal circumstances, though. Annie lowered her gaze again.