Cast Down. ( A Dark-Alice short story)

Just as Alice was beginning to grow ENTIRELY even MORE bored, the ArchAngels reappeared.

They had been gone rather a long time, Alice thought.
Although to Alice, any span much greater than the time required to completely spin once around, was quite a long time.

They had lingered long enough to tell her to wait, before vanishing, leaving her standing alone in the middle of a large featureless chamber.

But now they had returned , from where-ever it was they had gotten to, and had taken up their previous positions at the lecterns around the front of the room.

Or was it the back of the room?
The large ornate doors by which one entered were the rooms only real decor of note, and certainly a good candidate for claiming the status of 'front' of the room. So perhaps...

Alice tilted her head back until she could see the doors of the chamber, a task made easier by the fact that she was sitting on the floor.
'Waiting for Angels makes your feet terribly sore', she thought grumpily.

She tipped her head forward again to look at the lecterns, then back to consider the doors, back and forth, again and again, until she started to grow rather dizzy.

"ALICE".
A voice boomed from the front of the room, and startled, she fell backwards with a shriek, sprawling on the floor, her legs waving madly in the air.
She thought she heard a chorus of sighs through her skirts, which were now halfway over her head.
A brief struggle ensued, and eventually, but not quite as triumphantly as she had hoped, she managed to untangle her skirts and scramble to her feet.

She couldn't tell which of the ArchAngels had spoken, as they all sounded the same to her.
'They looked the same as well, for all in tents and porpopises'.
She thought, gazing at them.
Although what dolphins wanted with camping equipment was beyond her, as were many of the sayings she had collected.

She supposed it had been Gabriel, for that was the only name she could remember, and was as good enough a reason as any to label him thus.

'Yes, your majest...er...worsh..... ahh...Sir?' She tried to look respectful , and tried not to think of chubby little kids with wings and bows.

'THOSE, ARE CHERUBS', the center-most Angel spoke, seeing into her mind.

'Sorry', she said, not really sure she'd done anything wrong.

'QUITE ALL RIGHT'.
Was it her imagination, or did the ArchAngel sound...embarassed?

'I didn't mean', she started., remembering the mental image, 'that is, I'm sure yours is bigger than that.'
She turned red.

Gabriel looked confused, but after processing for a moment, made a dismissive motion with his hand.
'THAT IS NOT IT. YOU SEE, THERE HAS BEEN A...MIX UP.'

Alice waited, confused.

'WE CANNOT FIND YOUR FILE, YOU DO NOT SEEM TO EXIST.'

Alice blinked.
'What?!'

'THERE IS NO RECORD OF YOU HERE. WELL, ANYWHERE, REALLY....'

Silence, then she asked slowly, as she tried to figure it out, 'So what does that mean'?

Gabriel shifted uneasily.
'WE CAN'T PROCESSS YOU. YOU ARE FREE TO GO.
TRY NOT GET YOURELF KILLED. AGAIN'
He tapped his wrist pointedly.

'Is it because I'm a Glassian'? she asked, feeling angry.

The ArchAngels looked at her blankly.

'A Glassian!', she repeated. 'A believer in all things through The Looking Glass'.

The Angels conferred briefly, before one of them asked.

"IS THAT LIKE AN ATHEIST? OR A PAGAN?"

'Arrrrrghhhhhhh!'.
Alice screamed and stamped her foot.
'Listen here, you Castiel wannabe!' she said sternly, 'My talking rabbits and infinite Tea Parties are just as real as any of your implausible teapots, purple unicorns or invisible sky daddies'.

'ALICE'.
The tone was cautionary.

'And you know what you can do with that book? Why you can . . . .'
Gabriel gestured hastily, and the world went black.

Alice sighed, and opened her eyes.
She looked down at her blood soaked dress, and freshly healed scars.
Not having to burn forever in Hell, aside, it seemed things were worse than she had thought.

Apparently she didn't even exist...

(to be cont..)