The Gathering

VII: When We Are Who We Are Called To Be

Jonah awoke from his bed to find himself directly seated on a wooden bench. He tried to regain his bearings. He had just been fast asleep in his bunk, As had been snoring below him but now As was nowhere to be seen. Next to him sat Muriel, her face was sullen, eyes red as if she had been crying. He looked around to where he heard indistinct chatter, He was in the back row of a completely wooden octagonal room, the wood that comprised every surface was dark cherry. The floor consisted entirely of descending tiers of built-in wooden benches, each stacked row nestled inside the last, the octagons of benches getting smaller and smaller until they reached a small platform big enough for only one person. He looked up, the ceiling was made of wooden slats that emanated out from a hollow skylight in the very center, its octagon shape directly mirrored the single platform below. The ceilings were cramped back where Jonah was sitting, if he were to stand, he would hit his head. One thing alarmed him more than everything else, however; there was no discernable exit. Every wall that flanked the octagon was made of solid horizontal wooden planks, no doors and no windows save for the skylight.

The room had just a moment ago been empty except for he and Muriel, but as he blinked, it became completely full of hooded figures. They wore black or gray robes, their faces completely obstructed. Jonah sat back, he looked over to Muriel but she too was now wearing a black hood, she turned her head to face him, smiled, and turned her attention to the center of the room. Jonah saw that all the hooded figures had trained their focus on a new figure standing in the center platform. He was a portly man with pale skin and thinning hair... Metatron. He looked sad, like Muriel had, eyes dark and sunken, mouth downturned into a slight, sorrowful frown. Metatron's eyes looked up to meet Jonah's... his demeanor was alarming, Jonah had never seen the usually jovial man very sad before, let alone like this.

"What's happening?" asked Jonah, he felt delirious and claustrophobic, as if the wooden room was contracting in on him.

"You did this to me, Jonah." Metatron stated with almost no emotion in his voice. "Why couldn't you have just kept your mouth shut... or better yet, died like your father?"

Jonah was dumbfounded, he knew Metatron would never speak to him like this; cruel and sadistic... 'a dream... this has to be dream!' Jonah screamed in his mind, hoping to jolt himself awake from this bizarre scene. "What did I do to you?" replied Jonah.

"This." With that single emotionless word, Metatron erupted into holy fire, he didn't scream, didn't move, didn't even close his eyes. Jonah grabbed for Muriel, grasping at her shoulders, she turned sharply at him.

"Sit back down!" she commanded, her voice echoed with the voices of all the hooded men in the room. Jonah did as she said and sat down, paralyzed. He watched as the last smoldering ashes of Metatron were lifted into the air and blown out the skylight. He turned his head around, he was now one row closer to the middle, he hadn't moved yet he'd been brought to the next descending tier. A new figure then appeared in the center: it was As.

"As!" screamed Jonah, he tried to arise from his bench but he had no command over his body, his legs remained affixed to the floor. "As! Help!" Jonah screamed, but none of the cloaked men even noticed. As turned his head directly to face Jonah's.

"You're going to get us all killed. Is that what you want?" As, like Metatron, spoke in a monotone, emotionless voice.

"I don't want anyone to die!" screamed Jonah, arguing with his own mind in a dream...

"You let your father die." Smirked As, he looked up to the skylight, "Michael was my friend, you let him die too, I could've saved him..." As trailed off. Jonah just watched, tears flowing from his eyes as holy fire began engulfing As, he was silent.

"Fucking stop!" Jonah shrieked, he buried his head in his hands, trying desperately to wake up, "Fucking wake up!" he shouted into is palms. He felt his neck move without his input, his hands came away from his face, revealing to Jonah a third victim in the center of the room, and he was another row closer.