God

4

Santana opened his eyes, and looked around confused: he wasn't in the cave anymore, but in a bed far too small for him.
The small room was illuminated by a lamp on the writing desk near him, the lamp emitted a dull orange light. The wallpaper was pink with a floral pattern.
Near him there was a window, covered in the curtains.
He pulled back the curtains: whoever this house was, it was in the coast. He could see the beach and the sea, and hear the waves. The sky was completely black, with only the full moon as the only thing bright in the sky.
"What is this place?" Santana asked to himself.
Staying there felt... oddly calm, peaceful even. But there was something off about it that he couldn't quite put his finger on...
He heard the door opening, the one who stepped in was a very old woman, she weared some kind of hoodie, witch framed her wrinkled face. She was wearing a long blue nightgown. Her big brown eyes lit up in seeing the man awake.
"You're okay!" that human's raspy but maternal voice made Santana feel even more relaxed.
"Wait here." the old one said, leaving the room.
What was happening? How did he ended up again in her house? He had an odd feeling that this happened before, humans called it dejà-vu. Was he having one at the moment?
After a few minutes, the woman came in, he had on her hands a cup of tea.
Santana sat on the edge of the bed, then took a sip from the cup, the warm drink made him like he was finally in a safe place for the first time in his life.
The woman sat next to him.
"I thought you'd never wake up!" she said.
"You weren't in a good state when I and Charles found you... by the way, my name is Ellie. Yours...?"
"Santana."
"Well, nice to meet you Santana!" She grinned.
"You're hungry? I baked some biscuits this morning, I hope you'll like them!"
The woman sat up, and she went outside, closing the door.
Good, he finally had time to understand what was going on.
He jumped out of bed and tried to invoke Abraxas, but he failed.
"That's worrying... could this be an Angel, too?" Santana thought.
If it was the latter, he had to woke up, and fast.
He took the chair and he used it to destroy the window. He got out the room and started running towards the lights of a nearby city. But when he was almost there, he suddenly was inside that bedroom again. The window was magically repaired.
"What in the...?!" Santana thought aloud.
It was really worrying now.
Maybe it wasn't an Angel, but something different... maybe a dream? No, it wasn't possible. Only humans had dreams, beings like him could just hibernate and have a coma-like sleep.
But what if it was really a dream? Ugh, he really couldn't tell what was happening. It was best for him if he followed the rules of whatever this place was. He sat on the bed, and almost immediately after, Ellie entered. She had on her hands a tray with a plate full of biscuits. She sat near him, and they ate together the sweets.
"How did you find me?"
"Me and my sweetheart Charles," Ellie explained "Were walking on the countryside, we found you on a trailhead. Golly!" she laughed "you looked like you got yourself into a fight! He carried you at home, he's very strong!"
"I was normal then." he thought relieved.
The two heard a noise. The old lady got up worried.
"Oh no! Sorry, I have to leave you!" and she rushed outside the bedroom again.
"So I just wait for the dream to finish?" Santana thought.
It was very nice so far, but he had this bad feeling that everything was going to go downhill very soon.
He suddenly felt very sleepy.
"Eh, I'm worrying over nothing."
He got inside the bed, trying his best to fit in the small piece of furniture.
Laying down made him think: this place consisted probably of the bedroom and that's it, but Ellie was going to show up every now and then, bringing sweets, talk to him and made him feel loved and worth something.
The real world, though, was another story.
Everything felt unnatural, rotten, broken beyond repair. Live in there was almost impossible for him. The only consolation in a life not worth living was Abraxas.
If he decided to stay in the fake world, he wouldn't be able to summon the Angel, but he would have the attention and the affection he always craved, but there would be no magic purple spirit.
But if he had the guts to choose the real one, he would have to walk in Hell every single day of his life, wishing to just stop it and end it all. But there would be his Angel as a shoulder to cry on.
"Fuck it, this place is better." he said.
There wouldn't be Abraxas with him, and he was likely going to stay in that room forever, but everything was better than a life of solitude or with the same man who destroyed everything you loved and cared about.