Omens (wattys2016)

Twelve

I am standing in a room full of books. Jackson referred to it as 'the study' but it looks more like a friggin library to me. Each wall is covered from floor to ceiling with over stocked book shelves. I stroll through the room, running my fingers gingerly over the spines of well read books. The bookstore down the street has nothing on this place. I could hide in here for months and never miss the outside world.

"I really don't know where to start," Jackson confesses, lounging on one of the study's many leather couches, "Most of the times I encounter...someone like you...it's because I am about to kill them."

I spin, not sure I heard him correctly. He shrugs off my response to his statement, giving me a casual grin.

"Wait, what?"

"Maybe that wasn't the best way to start this whole thing," he says, "I told you, I'm not used to having this conversation. Do me a favor, sit down. You're doing that whole 'pace-the-room-looking-like-you're-going-to-pass-out' thing you do and it is making me nervous."

I take the seat next to him, trying to calm my nerves. I feel the odd tingle from this morning being traveling along my skin. I count backwards from ten. I will not go burst into electricity. I will not burst into electricity. I repeat the phrase over and over until the tingling goes away.

"Look, for as long as any of us can remember, it has been our duty to hunt down, and kill, anything supernatural. No one knows when or even how it started but, someone a few centuries ago, stumbled onto the fact that we are not the only things roaming the Earth. I'm gonna assume the first encounters with these things did not go so well or else we wouldn't be doing what we are. Everyone born on to our bloodline, and a few other bloodlines, comes with the ability to tell when something supernatural is nearby. I can't describe it. It's more like a feeling that something is not right with them. Supernaturals give off an energy and nine times out of ten, we can tell if its positive or negative energy."

"Supernaturals?" I interrupt, "You mean like vampires and werewolves and whatnot?" Jackson laughs loudly, holding his sides. Seriously, you would think from the way he is shaking that I just told a hilarious joke.

"No," he corrects, "None of that fairy-tale shit. I mean actual supernaturals. Things that were probably here long before we were. Fallen angels, those cast from Heaven for disobeying orders or just being all around rambunctious. Demons, nasty little things that crawl up from the deepest parts of Hell and inhabit human bodies, slowly sucking the life from their host. I am yet to encounter one, but, I did hear of a hunter in Canada who came across an actual angel. Not fallen, but a honest to god in the flesh angel. Anyways, like I was saying, normally we can right away if the supernatural is friend or foe. If I'm being honest here, I can maybe count on one hand the times I've come across one that isn't wreaking havoc."

"Ok," I say, processing the giant pile of information that has just been handed to me. Jackson stares at me as if he is waiting for me to curl into the fetal position and starting talking to myself. A few days ago that would have certainly been my go to move. After last night, what happened in my room, what he has just told me is actually starting to make sense. Well, almost make sense.

"So what does this have to do with me? Oh god, am I evil? It also doesn't explain what you were doing at my house that night."

"I was just getting there," he replies, "Seven years ago my brother and I were dispatched to check out a string of break-ins in New York. Most of them had been very typical, simple smash and grabs. But, the ones where the family happened to be home during the robberies, well it usually ended with there being no survivors. The first few families we investigated turned out not to be families at all. The houses that had been hit were actually small nests of fallen angels. Gabriel wanted to brush it off, figured some hunter had taken it upon himself to clean out the city, but it just didn't seem right to me. There had been no attacks during that time. Nothing that would cause a hunter to go renegade and wipe out a whole nest simply because he could. We followed what little leads we could find and ended up back here. By the time we reached your house it was too late. The hunter must have gotten some bad intel because neither of us felt any kind of left over energy in the house. Gabriel stepped outside to call Liam and tell him what had happened. That's when I saw you. I'd heard there are some of us born different, our genes a bit more warped than the others. Up until that night I had never actually seen a soul leave a body and to be honest, it scared the shit out of me. I was just a kid, barely twelve years old, and there you were..popping out of your body like a jack-in-the-box. There wasn't much I could do. I felt your energy, felt its goodness. I knew it was only a matter of time before you moved on. God, you were so angry. You yelled at me like the whole damn thing was my fault. Like I had something to do with what had happened to your family. I reached for you. I wanted to help you. I wanted to tell you that everything was going to be okay but you started to fade out. I figured you had crossed over."

Tears slide down my face as he recaps what happened that night. The whole scene plays out in my head before me. The way my mother had screamed when she came downstairs to find me tied to that chair. The attacker had caught her from behind, slitting her throat. The same with my father and one of my brothers. They had never seen it coming. But Andrew, oh god, Andrew had put up a fight. I had felt a glimmer of hope as I watched the two struggle. Only to have it ripped away from me as the attacked gained the upper hand.

Jackson leans forward, brushing away my tears. His fingers stroke my face lightly. I can see it in his eyes, the pain it causes him to tell this story. I wipe my nose on my sleeve, urging him to continue.

"I never told Gabriel what happened that night. Our parents had died a few months before and I didn't want to add on to the list of things he had to worry about. It was the first and only time I've ever seen a soul. I didn't recognize you at the party. Why would I? I figured you were dead. I felt you the moment you walked through the door. It was like someone had turned my senses all the way up. Had the others been here too I am certain they would have felt the same way. You looked so normal, sitting in the gazebo, drinking up all my good booze. It wasn't until I saw you at the cafe, saw your eyes, that I realized my mind wasn't playing tricks on me. None of this really matters. I mean, it does, but not in the way you think it matter. Shit, I'm rambling. The simple fact is, none of us have ever encountered someone whose energy feels the way your does. It's kind of overwhelming. The amount of power you are throwing out is insane. What's even crazier is the fact that it has not real feel to it. No hint of good or evil. You're not human. That much was quite obvious last night. Omera, we have zero idea what you are."