Memoirs of the Supernatural - Phase 1 - Sigil 8

Still not done yet.

And oh boy, I have so much more to tell.

Hex bags and Devil’s traps were tossed aside; those were no longer effective against dozens of the devil's henchmen. Yeah, sure I could ruse a few but the others would be there imminently to help those out. It was time to put the ordinary tricks away and come up with a real solution.

I finally got it: I had to disappear. Constantly. But how? It’s not like I’m some witch who can put her mojo into action and find Harry Potter’s invisibility cloak with telekinetic powers. Or go full Obi-Wan on its arse. As a matter of fact, the force is not strong with me either. So I had to use my head and think of a more realistic option. That’s when I figured that planes fly. And they do fly a long way. All I have to do is get on one, play tourist and repeat that the process about 3-4 times each months.

So I became a business woman who can’t be pinned down and now I’m swimming in money. Only if things were that easy. Of course was joking, sorry about that. That’s not how it went. I used my head and thought about a simple question: what kind of a person uses an aeroplane as a traveling device on a regular basis who doesn’t pay for their rides? Then it hit me: crew of course.

So I became a pilot and… Okay a bad joke was enough once, playing the same card twice is just rude. I wasn’t flying those things but a flight attendant’s job sounded just about right for me. Everything seemed perfect: had a high school degree, had previous experience of dealing with costumers which is always a plus and even if I’m not the most attractive woman in the planet I sure know how to make myself look presentable.

First I enlisted myself for a flight attendant training at various airlines. They interviewed me and after that I’ve been chosen they sent me to attend an intensive course where I’ve learnt the basics of the job and even more. It took 2 and a half weeks to finish. I know, it doesn’t sound like much but believe me, that thing was not an easy stunt to pull off. It’s not about the nature of the exercises but the pressure they put on you. Those men and women who are there with you are competing. Practically everybody is your enemy but if you don’t treat them well and let’s say that you two get a job on the same aircraft things can get real messy real soon. Long story short: rivalry is advised but only until you reach a certain level.

Here is what you wanna do: be immaculate. Always look at (least) decent. You don’t have to put on makeup every day but never look scruffy. Dress for the occasion: you’re going to do physical exercises as well as literal studying, so be prepared. And most importantly: always be on time. Don’t you dare be late or your instructor will remember you, not for the right reasons. That’s about it. If you do all these things, perform well and don’t complain you’ll be just fine. I did all I could and guess what? I made it.

Within a few short weeks I got a letter that I’m one of the many few who were lucky enough to join the circles of the initiated and start flying and serving drinks with barf bags. Thank the maker no more marketing anecdotes were attached to the mail other than what you just heard. Before I could sign anything there was a background check where they took my fingerprints and ran it through the database. Poor bastards never found out that my prints were switched with Jane Doe’s corpse who was lying in the morgue waiting for her governmental financed funeral. God bless her soul. She was cremated the next day after I dunked her hands in ink and set those mark as my original identity’s fingerprints. May she rest in peace.

“Peter I’m flying!” That was my initial thought on my first day. I enjoyed working at the airline, perhaps because I had no troubles what so ever. Over the years I’ve learnt how to speak “proper English” a.k.a. traditional Londoner accent and without slangs. With that being said nobody had any complaints about the mixed cultural Northern accent I know as my own. That would have been a problem especially with foreigners. But with that out of the picture there was nothing to stop me from escaping.

Aeroplanes are great once you know how things are in the air. Just like in an office environment carefully crafted by feng shui addict things don’t move much. They are engineered to be restrained which is music to one’s ears who’s dealing with hex bags. Each time before the departure I stepped on the air vehicles and placed my bags where they were supposed to be. I even brought salt with me in a container hidden in my necklace and poured every last piece of it under the rug right at the door. And the funniest part is: nobody ever dared to think that I’m out of my mind. They all believed that I’m some superstitious country girl who has to perform her rituals before we take off. Hell, many of my co-workers had unusual habits of their own. Mine was downright innocent compared to some of theirs but let’s not jump into that story, shall we?

As you might have expected the peace didn’t last long. The demons found loopholes to bypass my wards. Things like entering the captain’s body before I could place the bags and such things. Of course I could still manage and get rid of them in time, but by the love of god, every time was one hack of an adrenaline rush. To top all the bad news what’s happened lately the voices came back warning me about the dangers.

I won’t nor can take that much excitement for too long. So there was that. I also came to the realisation that I’ll need help; this fight is one that I can’t take on my own. But I knew a man I could trust, even if we haven’t seen each other eye to eye in over a decade. Old chap John Winchester was about to meet me for the first time in a long period.