Metatron gazed out from a top a three story apartment building. It was worn down, old, and in desperate need of maintenance. But to give up this building would have been a fatal blow to the nuns who ran this orphanage. Occasionally they received help from local churches and donors. But the increasing demands of both utility and the children's needs had the nuns pinching every penny they got. "It is a pity," Metatron thought looking down at the children playing in the field. He turned to gaze at some nuns sitting in the shade watching the children play. "Where is your God now?"
He was intangible at the moment. He assumed this form when he didn't want to be seen. Fact of the matter is he mostly didn't mind his fearsome appearance. After all, a hybrid as powerful as he has nothing to fear. And still even he had a heart for humans, who he reasoned were just like him. So he took an oath to stand by them until they died. Every last one of them.
Metatron was born between the union of an angel and Demon. Before the great lovers, Metatron had already been conceived. He was born on earth though, for his mother feared Heaven and his Father Hell. So they entrusted the child to a devout spiritual hermit. She was a tender woman and loved Metatron, regardless of his somewhat volatile and violent character. He never touched her though. And his insistence on her protection contributed much to his discipline, making him a natural killer. But ever since her death, he has never touched a single human. Not far after her passing did he receive word of an angel and demon in love. Since he had never seen his parents before, it occurred to him that this may be his chance. He immediately set off to perhaps his worst moment in his entire existence.
The horror he saw both angels and demons alike commit will forever brand upon his heart his eternal loath for them. No creature, be it justified by God or motivated by the Devil should ever take his equals life. This is the code he lives by. These are the words that he has marked upon his swords hilt and his chest. That everyone who sees him may never doubt the occurrence of that unspeakable day.
He found himself descending into the Mother Superiors office. She had come accustomed to his frequent arrivals, despite her wishes of him leaving her alone. Still he has helped them countless times in the past, so she puts up with him, under many conditions.
"Do not forget, Metatron," she snapped pointing to a bowl filled with Holy Water, "say the words." Metatron hated this little ritual she always had him do. He dipped his fingers in the water and marked his forehead, his lips, and his heart, "Neither within my thoughts, my words, or in my heart" he uttered in a cold raspy voice, "shall I bring evil upon this house, or those who dwell in it." She looked up amused, but content at this small form of security. "What do you need?" She was always forward with him, sparing no small talk on his behalf.
"I came to ask for the inventory list on your supplies. I realized you had been hesitant to give it to me before, so I came asking for it again." She stopped writing to give him her full attention, "I know you do not like me, much less the idea of my assistance, but you know as well as I do that without me these children will either die of starvation or turn to a life of sin." He had to swallow hard. That word made him feel righteous, and he hated it. Even though it was only to move her more towards accepting the help, he still regrets using the tactic. Manipulation is not his stronghold, far less his preferred manner of dealing. Be forward or walk backwards, he'd always say. They stared at each other for a long time before she opened a drawer in the desk she was sitting in, and pulled out a folded sheet of paper.
"It hasn't been updated since you asked me," she said sliding the piece of paper towards the corner of the desk. "So you may have to improvise." He took the list and turned to walk away, until that snappy voice stopped him again. "Metatron..."
He sighed, this time parting his lips with a smile, "Nothing gets pass you, eh mom?" She shivered being called that especially by him. She shook her head violently and pointed towards the bowl again. Again he dipped and marked the same places, "As I leave, my oath I'll keep." And he broke his physical form for his smokey appearance and ascended through the ceiling to leave the Mother Superior to shake her head in disapproval.
