Alpha Omega

Unnecessary complications

***Kiya***

I woke up with a hangover the size of Antarctica. Lucky for me, I was apparently drunk enough to have deluded myself into believing that I was sleeping on a bed of clouds. Either that or I died and went to a freakishly warm, comfy place with lots of white and lots of pillow-like clouds. Although, who'd have thought that hangovers were allowed in heaven? Or me, for that matter. 

"You're not dead yet Cutie." Hmmm, it's true what they say about angel's voices being divine!

"Why thank you." The smooth as silk voice replied. 

I heard a thumping sound, then the pretty angel voice let out a high note that sounded kinda like a yelp. 

"Don't encourage her dumbass." Said another voice, different, but still smooth enough to make my muscles relax even more into the clouds. 

Oh yay! They allow cursing and name-calling into heaven too!

"Hm, think she's always like this? Or is this just a side effect of being smashed into marble?" 

Hm, he sounded like dark chocolate, if dark chocolate had a sound. Does chocolate have a sound? Also, are they reading my mind? That's a cool power. I mean, sucky for me because they are reading my mind but definitely cool for them. Does everyone in heaven get mindreading powers....Nope, well at least I didn't get them. Either that or the two angels don't have brainwaves, or brains! Well, if no brains are allowed then I guess no zombies can live in heaven either. Bummer, I always thought I'd be awesome in the zombie apocalypse. Too bad I died before showing the world my true potential as a zombie fighting werewolf chic. 

They both chuckled, "Nah, I'd say she's like this all the time. She was saying the exact same crap in the hall." 

Crap! My zombie fighting fantasies are not nonsense. Although, I may be forced to concede that they may be irrelevant to my current situation of being talked about by two mindreading angels in heaven. I need to be thinking about real-time priorities, like how I ended up in heaven, who the fuck let me in and opening my eyes and moving around enough to see if these angels are as yummy looking as they sound. 

Their rumbling laughs washed over me again, turning my bones to jelly and simultaneously making real-time priority number 3 more necessary to my sanity and more impossible. 

"Little Lady, we ain't angels," The second voice said, I'm guessing he's the party pooper of the two of them. 

This thought made the first voice bark out a laugh. Now that I was more focused, I noticed that I way laying sort of twisted so that I was laying on my side, facing away from the first voice, and with my face and upper body spread eagle like I tried to bellyflop on a cloud but my butt decided to back out at the last minute and twisted to the side to avoid impact on my lady bits, probably a good choice.

"You're right, wouldn't want those lady parts being hurt by anyone who isn't us." The first voice chuckled. Huh, not exactly something I'd expect an angel to say, I guess heaven is much more laid-back than I thought. "Ha, let's hope so, Babe, for all our sakes. Also, we aren't mind reading, you're talking out loud. Your friend Maven said you do that a lot when you don't have the brain capacity to consciously keep your thoughts to yourself or something." 

"Hugh? Well, I guess that makes you much less cool angels then." I mumble, "Wait. Maven is here too? Shiiiiit." 

"Here? Well, he is, technically 'here' as in, downstairs in the pack house but not 'here' as in heaven if that's what you're worried about. And no, you are not dead, you got knocked out." Mr party-pooper growled out the last part. "I am not a party pooper!"