Memoirs of the Supernatural - Phase 4 [COMPLETED]

Sigil 5

So, the End of the World, eh?

Not even surprised.

Weeks passed, than months and I found myself lost under a stack of books and scrolls. I had mountains of readings in front of me. You might recall me being rubbish when it comes to action, but I'm pretty good at connecting dots and crafting theories, so that's precisely what I was left with. Fact is: I'm not cut out to be a hunter. I can't shoot or even aim properly, when under stress I can't function as a normal human being and so on.

During those slow days I studied the Book of Enoch, the Old Testament, the New Testament, the Apocrypha, the Tanakh and so on. The amount of lore this topic incorporates is massive; not to mention the various translations and theoretical evaluations. Luckily, I wasn't alone: Bobby helped me with the Hebrew text because out of the two of us he could both speak and read it, while I was busy comparing the Greek versions with modern prints. I think you can see what I mean when I confess to you how tiring this job was. But again, if we don't do it nobody else will.

I haven't had much time to relax and how could I? The End of Times was right around the corner but it was compulsory to take some time off every day to regain my ability to focus. A couple of hours of sleep ought to do the trick, yet whenever I put my head on a pillow I had horrible nightmares. Not just any kind of bad dreams, I mean apparitions, pictures of destruction, terror of the psyche and horror on the streets. I kept waking up bathing in my own sweat every night and before long I realised that no amount of slumber can help me to take my mind off of what's coming. Not even lemon-grass tea could ease my nerves.

I made mistake and kept these dreams a secret believing there was no need to trouble the guys with something as unimportant as this. The pictures had no message, no structure and I was no medium either, only my consciousness played games with me competing with the actual dreads I had to face every day.

(🎶Alice Cooper - Welcome To My Nigthmare)

One night however instead of the usual scary imaginary I found myself in the company of an unknown visitor. The encounter incidentally provoked legit flashbacks from my childhood. At first everything was sort of okayish, he didn't do anything off-putting, just stayed in the back and observed the surroundings. He was so ordinary I didn't even care to notice him until he started talking to me and that's when I knew something was off about him. He said he wanted to see me with his own eyes, that I'm special among other silly things. Believe it or not I merely think of myself as a girl with extremely bad luck and he made me uncomfortable by repeating all this gibberish over and over.

He kept coming back every night and that's when it started to get ridiculous. He altered my dreams and forced me into roleplaying. Sometimes I was shackled all by myself in a dungeon and he was the hero who saved me, other times he dressed me up as a French maid while played the part of my master. Other times he got creative and appeared as men from my past or men I fancied. Either way, it was very wrong.

I found no indication of supernatural behaviour, meaning that I wasn't cursed or haunted by anything/ anyone. The man in my dreams must have been the manifestation of my repressed feelings ranging from trembling anxiety to explicit sexuality. Doesn't matter how we look at it, it's not healthy and I had no take on how to end it. One thing I knew for certain: I was in frantic need for a break. If only it was up to me.

It gradually kept getting worse: my mystery man has gone overboard with the games he was playing and on one night when I realised I was only dreaming and I wasn't obliged to obey him I stood up for myself. I gave him a piece of my mind as I ordered him to leave me alone because I don't need him, I don't want him either and I'm (kinda) taken anyway. His response was truly horrible, driven by anger and perhaps jealousy. He showed me visions of Sam and that dark-haired girl who I saw back at the motel in the most intimate scenario, if you get what I'm saying. I tried so hard to shut it out with no use.

What it seemed like the lowest point in entirety of whatever this was those familiar inner voices creeped into my head. They were alerting each other and gave out orders to help me but one of them pointed out that they're not prepared nor anywhere near strong enough for the job. I was woken up by the sound of my own screaming and by Bobby who must have stormed in when he heard me crying for aid.

We didn't wait 'till morning to discuss the matter, I wouldn't have been able to sleep anyhow. Not after this.

Following a short briefing Bobby came up with a proposal: we're going to prioritise this matter over everything. No more info hunting, no more "we need to save the world", no more "but Sam and Dean asked us to help", no nothing until we get to the bottom of this. It was clear that however or whatever is onto me wants to distract me from everything I've been working on and calculatingly plans each of his moves. He knows me, my pet peeves, my desires, my fears and he uses them all against me. Or as Bobby put it: in his immense effort to hurt me it was no wonder to show Sam and a demon shagging.

"Wait a second, what demon?"

I stopped Bobby in midsentence. A slip of tongue perhaps? Indeed, it was.

Dean learned a few weeks back that Samuel is now with Ruby. He told Bobby and they kept it hidden from me. Ruby was inside the girl who we saw in the motel when we recruited Sam.

Oh, senseless, stupid little me who didn't want to lash out and cause her trouble. She knew exactly what she was doing and who she was doing it with. And Samuel was no better either. Having sex with a demon while he was married to me whose life has been destroyed by those foul creatures... How could I be so irresponsible, stupid and such a fucking cunt? (Excuse my French.)

As Bobby went on and on apologising for not telling me the truth I picked up a crowbar, told him I'll be back soon, opened the door, left and walked to the very end of the junkyard where I smashed a car to pieces. Melee exercise. The sound of the shattering glass and the blunt clattering of the metal masked my voice as I was crying, grunting and screaming vociferously at the flying parts. The time I finished the Sun was rising on the horizon. I saw my shadow stretching as I was sitting on the ground in my pyjamas putting my back to the deflated right-side wheel. I was finally calm.