Headache. Pain. Numb.
That was all they could think.
Where am I? What happened?
They looked around with their currently silver eyes, the neatly positioned jet black hair falling around them as the small being tried to sit up- BONK.

Now, their head certainly didn't feel better. They pressed their hands up, quickly realizing they were in a glass case. Many preserved, varieties of flowers lay around their form, from reds to blues to white and yellow, a beautiful contrast to the dark outfit they wore.

Why can't I get out of this?

Confused, usually strength wasn't an issue. They remained still, looking around the room through the casket. Sighing in defeat, they drank in the wonderful surroundings. A creme and white building, walls laced with the intricate designs the White City was known for. The ceilings were so tall, she knew it was so the archangels could comfortably fit. Wait- why would they need to be in here? All the other buildings are smaller, only the ones they consistently visit are as big as this. Why am I in here? I don't remember anything.

An average angel was suddenly floating near the entrance, with their back turned. The person attempted to hollar out to them. "Hey!" Instantly coughing, their throat felt like sandpaper. They proceeded to bang in the casket as hard as possible, their pale face going red the more they pounded.

The angel turned to face the inside, now obviously looking more of a guard than an average citizen. Their face shifted quickly to shock, saying something the trapped being couldn't understand.

They left.

Now infuriated, the small being continued to pound and kick at the glass, sure that it would eventually break. They grew angry, a low rumble starting to form in their chest. Silver eyes now became red glowing orbs, and despite their body screaming at them to stop they continued to call out for someone to get them out.

Their chest showed rigid, short breaths. The punching and kicking weakened, now they just pressed their arms against the walls of the container as much as possible. This is bad. This feels wrong. I don't understand. This is too small.

Their thoughts jumbled together, calling for more panic. Ok ok. Why am I feeling this way? This isn't normal. This doesn't bother me.

Deep breaths were taken as they calmed their mind. The crimson eyes turned to solid soot. Now able to focus, they placed a single palm in front of their face on the glass. Dim, black bolts of electricity seemed to shoot up their arm into the glass- just enough damage to shatter it everywhere.

They took long, steep breaths of relief. Slowly they sat up, swinging their legs over the edge of the stand the casket once laid on. Then they noticed what they were wearing.

A black, knee length swing dress.

Something Sam would never wear.