Writing Prompt Challenge Day #5

WC: 550
Genre: Adventure
Character: Angel
 Material: a fridge
Line: It's your fault
Bonus: damsel in distress

"Where are you?" She whimpered.

Reaching down she shimmied the rope that was supposed to be binding her to the tree back up around her waist. She’d had to do it several times, and it was getting extremely annoying.

Chaz had been in a hurry, neglecting to fasten the line properly. Not that it mattered. She only needed to give the appearance of subjugation so that, after triumphantly defeating the villain, her hero, Roberto would feel even more heroic as he released her.

The problem was it had been hours. It was going to be dark soon, and there was no sign of either of them. If no one showed up soon she was going to be alone in the wilderness, in the dark. That was unacceptable, and definitely not the way this was supposed to play out.

She listened, hoping to hear the approach of someone, anyone; at this point she didn’t care who. But there was only the incessantly chirping birds, and the occasional rustle of a foraging squirrel to break the silence.

No one was coming. All was lost!

“Dear heaven,” she exclaimed. “Save me!”

A brassy trumpet fanfare echoed through the woods, and a pillar of light thumped onto the forest floor, causing the rope to give up even the suggestion of holding her captive, landing in a limp pile around her feet.

Screaming she tried to back up through the tree trunk. It resisted, though a few leaves came loose and floated down upon her head.

“Behold!” the light thundered. “You have called upon heaven, and heaven has answered!”

The world spun, taking her with it into darkness.

*

“Hey, come on! Wake up!”

The voice was exquisite, rich and musical. Nonetheless, it was annoying in its insistence on bringing her back to consciousness, forcing her to realize she was lying on the ground, and a stick was trying to gouge out one of her kidneys.

Shifting to one side to relieve the pain, she opened her eyes and found a being of radiant luminosity returning her gaze.

If pressed she would not have been able to describe what she was seeing, if it was male, female, clothed or naked. But the impression of great beauty was aided by soft, ethereal music emanating from nowhere and everywhere, filling the area with a sound that transcended the senses, wrapping around her like a sheet of finest silk.

It was so wondrous, so breathtakingly beautiful, so awe-inspiring… until it burped. No, not a burp, a belch of monumental proportions that actually made her hair whip around as if caught in a wind tunnel.

“Shorry ‘bout that,” the vision slurred.

“You’re drunk?” Krista’s awe turned to disbelief.

“No, no, not drunk.” The angel denied, then staggered to the left before it catching itself by spreading what she assumed were its wings. “Jush had a few drops of th’ old ambrosia. Good stuff!”

Disbelief became outrage. She scrambled to her feet, glaring into what she assumed was its face.

“I was kidnapped, tied to a tree and left to possibility be mauled by tigers in the night,” she yelled. “I was supposed to be rescued by a handsome prince!”

“Yeah, about tha'. Shorry, but it's your fault. We were having a l’il party, and the fridge landed on ‘im.”