Chapter Two-- Rough Draft
Everyone has seen The Wizard of Oz. I hated that movie as a child, because of those nasty flying monkeys, but that's not the point here. The point is that there's this one scene, at the beginning, when the tornado is moving closer and closer to Auntie Em and Uncle Henry's house. Dorothy and Toto are running around frantically in the yard, trying to get into the storm cellar. She's shouting and tugging for all she's worth, wanting to hide and unable to avoid the tornado but there isn't anything she can do.
That's exactly how I felt when I heard that the angels were here.
The rest of the office heard, too, and there was an instant stampede, a flurry of movement while Isaac and I stood frozen in the center, like the eye of the storm. Doors slammed closed as others retreated anywhere there was room; storage closets, bathroom stalls, even the deserted corner cubicle that held the broken printer. From a riotous din to absolute silence, in almost the blink of an eye. Isaac looked at me. I looked back at him. I tried to smile, but I think it came out as more of a wince.
There was another rustle of movement around us as everyone slowly peeped from between window blinds, peered around walls, and peeked through slits in the doors. I couldn't blame anyone, because I wished that I could hide, and had it been someone else in my shoes I probably would have been right there with my colleagues. Again that morbid cursioty; they were frightened of the men who took Clay away, but unwillingly intrigued. There is some sort of odd fascination that we all have with angels, a fascination I think I lost after Miche but can still remember having. I think we all want to see if they're different than daemons, and we want to know if they wonder the same things about the us.
No time for lengthy contemplation. The elevator beeped our floor, and all sound ceased again. Isaac straightened his shoulders and painted on a polite smile, as befitted Head Advisor to the Dark Lord. But as for me... well, I was resisting the urge to hide behind him. The silence was smothering. If there had been conversation and movement, I think it wouldn't have made me so nervous, but the utter lack of anything gave me a twitchy stomach. So I did the only thing I could think of.
I started to hum.
I was getting pretty involved in my solo performance when Isaac elbowed me sharply, and I lost my rhythm and frowned at him. Geez, I was just trying to lighten the tension. Maybe humming Darth Vader's Imperial March wasn't the best way to go about it, but hey, it was distracting me. In fact, it was distracting me so much that I didn't notice the elevator doors open and a figure enter until Isaac spoke.
"Welcome to Hell, Archangel Gabriel."
Archangel Gabriel, Heaven's trademark bad boy. Or should that be bad ass? There was only one way to describe Gabriel, and that one way was one word: sleazy.
I'd seen his picture before on the Purgatory network news, so I recognized him, but the real thing was even more oggle-worthy and I couldn't help but stare. Actually, I did more than stare; I took him in from the feet up, from wingtips to pinstripe trousers to loosened tie. He was tall and handsome in a sinister way, with one of those little waxed moustaches that you always see on villains in old movies, before goatees and soul patches came into evil fashion. For some reason he was even wearing sunglasses inside, like he was just trying to be cool, but all it made me want to do was giggle.
He came closer and nodded at Isaac, but he was smiling at me while he did it, a syrupy leer to rival Franky's trademark smirk. By sheer force of will I refrained from giving him the finger. After all, he was an Archangel, and I was just a lowly personnel manager. That, and I didn't want to get in trouble with Isaac. I was already in enough shit with this Rule fiasco.
"Welcome to Hell, Archangel." I echoed Isaac's greeting and gave my best insincere smile, even extending my hand. It was obvious that I didn't like him, but you wanna know something? We've been trying to hire Gabriel for years. There even used to be another personnel manager whose sole task was to try to finagle him into joining us. I've never been quite certain why Franky wanted Gabriel so badly, and never sure why Gabriel always kept refusing. The offers were more than generous, from what I've heard. Maybe we just didn't have what he wanted, but I doubt that was it. Personally, I thought he enjoyed the irony, a two-timing bookie cardshark like himself as one of the hands of God. You've got to admit, it is kind of funny.
When he spoke, even his voice felt slimy. "Thank you, Advisor Isaac, and thank you for the warm greeting, Miss..."
"Cix. It's just Cix." I was so not telling him my real name. It just felt... stupid. Men like Gabriel take everything they can get. Give them an inch and they'll take a mile, I think the cliche goes. I wasn't planning on ever being friends, or even friendly acquaintances with him, so there was no need to get personal.
Anyway. He smiled again and took my hand. "Pleasure to meet you, Miss Cix." Then instead of shaking it, he had the nerve to kiss it! Blecch! I pulled away as quickly and politely as possible, which was not politely at all, and frowned. Of course, by frown, I mean a somewhat restrained glare. Maybe not daggers, but I was definitely glaring something sharp and pointy.
"May we get to business, Archangel Gabriel? We were told that you and a companion would be arriving, but there only seems to be you. You can understand our desire to be informed in this situation. Are there more of your kind arriving?"
That came from Isaac, not me. I was still trying not to wipe my hand on my pants, because that was just a little too rude. Underneath the polite deference of Isaac's words was a sharp tone that surprised me. He rarely spoke with anything but the softest accent, and it was kind of disturbing to think that even Isaac was uncomfortable. He was supposed to be unshakeable, a rock, the one in control here. Looking up at his face and seeing unease written there sure wasn't helping my already fragile self-confidence any.
"It is always business between our sides, Advisor Isaac." Even Gabriel was getting that tone of voice now. Was I the only one left not being snappy? "Unfortunately, I do not have complete orders from My Lord until the other has arrived."
Oh, that was such a lie. Like Hank would send Gabriel here to Hell without actual orders. I gave him a look that made it clear I saw right through his slimy little lie, but Isaac was civil. "I see, Archangel. Very well. However, considering the circumstances and the encroaching deadline, we do not have time to wait."
Gabriel smiled, but it was a nasty smile, and I was surprised to see Isaac smile in return. I was feeling distinctly out of the conversation; ignored and overlooked in their increasingly sharp interchange. It pissed me off, being ignored like that. I mean, if I was going to be the daemon to find Satan, then that meant I was pretty damn important, right? Not a lowly personnel manager anymore. They should have been including me, because in ten days all of Hell's future would rest in my little nail-bitten hands and I wanted someone to pay attention.
Childish and petty, but true, and I actually stomped my foot and glared at Gabriel. He turned that smirk to me, and I gave it back as good as I got. Isaac gave me a disapproving frown and started to say something, but I wanted to be acknowledged here, and damnit, they were going to listen.
"Archangel. Isaac here is trying to be all nice to you, but I'm the one who's going to be stuck with you and your "other," so I want to know what in Satan's name is going on."
I could tell by the look on his face that he knew precisely what was going on. Shit. I didn't know. This was just peachy keen with a goddamn cherry on top.
"I'm sorry that you don't seem to know much, Miss Cix." Burn on me. I wished he had wings so that I could pluck them, feather by feather, and then maybe after I'd shave that annoying little Hitler moustache of his and give him something to think about. Damnit, now he was talking again, interrupting my nice visions of flaming Gabriel bodies and-- "Perhaps when Archangel Micheal arrives, he could help explain it to you."
I wanted someone to tell me that he did not just say Micheal. Unfortunately, that was exactly what he'd said.
"... Miche is coming?"
To be continued...
That's exactly how I felt when I heard that the angels were here.
The rest of the office heard, too, and there was an instant stampede, a flurry of movement while Isaac and I stood frozen in the center, like the eye of the storm. Doors slammed closed as others retreated anywhere there was room; storage closets, bathroom stalls, even the deserted corner cubicle that held the broken printer. From a riotous din to absolute silence, in almost the blink of an eye. Isaac looked at me. I looked back at him. I tried to smile, but I think it came out as more of a wince.
There was another rustle of movement around us as everyone slowly peeped from between window blinds, peered around walls, and peeked through slits in the doors. I couldn't blame anyone, because I wished that I could hide, and had it been someone else in my shoes I probably would have been right there with my colleagues. Again that morbid cursioty; they were frightened of the men who took Clay away, but unwillingly intrigued. There is some sort of odd fascination that we all have with angels, a fascination I think I lost after Miche but can still remember having. I think we all want to see if they're different than daemons, and we want to know if they wonder the same things about the us.
No time for lengthy contemplation. The elevator beeped our floor, and all sound ceased again. Isaac straightened his shoulders and painted on a polite smile, as befitted Head Advisor to the Dark Lord. But as for me... well, I was resisting the urge to hide behind him. The silence was smothering. If there had been conversation and movement, I think it wouldn't have made me so nervous, but the utter lack of anything gave me a twitchy stomach. So I did the only thing I could think of.
I started to hum.
I was getting pretty involved in my solo performance when Isaac elbowed me sharply, and I lost my rhythm and frowned at him. Geez, I was just trying to lighten the tension. Maybe humming Darth Vader's Imperial March wasn't the best way to go about it, but hey, it was distracting me. In fact, it was distracting me so much that I didn't notice the elevator doors open and a figure enter until Isaac spoke.
"Welcome to Hell, Archangel Gabriel."
Archangel Gabriel, Heaven's trademark bad boy. Or should that be bad ass? There was only one way to describe Gabriel, and that one way was one word: sleazy.
I'd seen his picture before on the Purgatory network news, so I recognized him, but the real thing was even more oggle-worthy and I couldn't help but stare. Actually, I did more than stare; I took him in from the feet up, from wingtips to pinstripe trousers to loosened tie. He was tall and handsome in a sinister way, with one of those little waxed moustaches that you always see on villains in old movies, before goatees and soul patches came into evil fashion. For some reason he was even wearing sunglasses inside, like he was just trying to be cool, but all it made me want to do was giggle.
He came closer and nodded at Isaac, but he was smiling at me while he did it, a syrupy leer to rival Franky's trademark smirk. By sheer force of will I refrained from giving him the finger. After all, he was an Archangel, and I was just a lowly personnel manager. That, and I didn't want to get in trouble with Isaac. I was already in enough shit with this Rule fiasco.
"Welcome to Hell, Archangel." I echoed Isaac's greeting and gave my best insincere smile, even extending my hand. It was obvious that I didn't like him, but you wanna know something? We've been trying to hire Gabriel for years. There even used to be another personnel manager whose sole task was to try to finagle him into joining us. I've never been quite certain why Franky wanted Gabriel so badly, and never sure why Gabriel always kept refusing. The offers were more than generous, from what I've heard. Maybe we just didn't have what he wanted, but I doubt that was it. Personally, I thought he enjoyed the irony, a two-timing bookie cardshark like himself as one of the hands of God. You've got to admit, it is kind of funny.
When he spoke, even his voice felt slimy. "Thank you, Advisor Isaac, and thank you for the warm greeting, Miss..."
"Cix. It's just Cix." I was so not telling him my real name. It just felt... stupid. Men like Gabriel take everything they can get. Give them an inch and they'll take a mile, I think the cliche goes. I wasn't planning on ever being friends, or even friendly acquaintances with him, so there was no need to get personal.
Anyway. He smiled again and took my hand. "Pleasure to meet you, Miss Cix." Then instead of shaking it, he had the nerve to kiss it! Blecch! I pulled away as quickly and politely as possible, which was not politely at all, and frowned. Of course, by frown, I mean a somewhat restrained glare. Maybe not daggers, but I was definitely glaring something sharp and pointy.
"May we get to business, Archangel Gabriel? We were told that you and a companion would be arriving, but there only seems to be you. You can understand our desire to be informed in this situation. Are there more of your kind arriving?"
That came from Isaac, not me. I was still trying not to wipe my hand on my pants, because that was just a little too rude. Underneath the polite deference of Isaac's words was a sharp tone that surprised me. He rarely spoke with anything but the softest accent, and it was kind of disturbing to think that even Isaac was uncomfortable. He was supposed to be unshakeable, a rock, the one in control here. Looking up at his face and seeing unease written there sure wasn't helping my already fragile self-confidence any.
"It is always business between our sides, Advisor Isaac." Even Gabriel was getting that tone of voice now. Was I the only one left not being snappy? "Unfortunately, I do not have complete orders from My Lord until the other has arrived."
Oh, that was such a lie. Like Hank would send Gabriel here to Hell without actual orders. I gave him a look that made it clear I saw right through his slimy little lie, but Isaac was civil. "I see, Archangel. Very well. However, considering the circumstances and the encroaching deadline, we do not have time to wait."
Gabriel smiled, but it was a nasty smile, and I was surprised to see Isaac smile in return. I was feeling distinctly out of the conversation; ignored and overlooked in their increasingly sharp interchange. It pissed me off, being ignored like that. I mean, if I was going to be the daemon to find Satan, then that meant I was pretty damn important, right? Not a lowly personnel manager anymore. They should have been including me, because in ten days all of Hell's future would rest in my little nail-bitten hands and I wanted someone to pay attention.
Childish and petty, but true, and I actually stomped my foot and glared at Gabriel. He turned that smirk to me, and I gave it back as good as I got. Isaac gave me a disapproving frown and started to say something, but I wanted to be acknowledged here, and damnit, they were going to listen.
"Archangel. Isaac here is trying to be all nice to you, but I'm the one who's going to be stuck with you and your "other," so I want to know what in Satan's name is going on."
I could tell by the look on his face that he knew precisely what was going on. Shit. I didn't know. This was just peachy keen with a goddamn cherry on top.
"I'm sorry that you don't seem to know much, Miss Cix." Burn on me. I wished he had wings so that I could pluck them, feather by feather, and then maybe after I'd shave that annoying little Hitler moustache of his and give him something to think about. Damnit, now he was talking again, interrupting my nice visions of flaming Gabriel bodies and-- "Perhaps when Archangel Micheal arrives, he could help explain it to you."
I wanted someone to tell me that he did not just say Micheal. Unfortunately, that was exactly what he'd said.
"... Miche is coming?"
To be continued...