“Well, can’t you see I’m about to have a panic attack here?” I retorted weakly and wiped the sweat from my brow. The demon shrugged and turned his fiery gaze back to his book. I studied him carefully for a moment. He didn't seem as if he were about to pounce on me. He was situated quite comfortably on one of those ridiculous exercise balls in a horrifyingly bright shade of fuchsia. His wings, which lined his back in two pairs of three, spread out behind him like black shadows, creeping across the white walls from one corner of the room to the other. I continued to stare at him until I was absolutely, one hundred percent certain that I was safe, at least for the moment, and let my gaze sweep the room. Okay, so I was wholly and utterly responsible for bringing myself to this place, wherever the hell (was this really Hell or just a place named after it?) it was, but it couldn't hurt to at least check the room out.
It was a normal enough office with its row of plastic chairs, outdated magazines, and an excessive array of indoor ficus trees. The one thing that did stand out to me however was a single row of portraits that bordered the beige wall above a small bookcase. I took a step closer and peered at the bright photos tucked inside the gilded frames. They were all snapshots of people being tortured: the iron maiden, the rack, jury duty. I shivered and not because I was cold. Well, I guess that’s what I should have expected to find in the Devil’s waiting room. That and a room temperature that was easily around a hundred degrees Fahrenheit. I fanned myself and cleared my throat, hoping to catch the secretary's attention.
The demon sighed and set down the novel he was reading. The cover caught my attention immediately – sweaty man chests never really get tiresome to look at. Red alert, I thought, chuckling stupidly to myself. Romance novel! Then my mouth opened, and I started speaking before I could stop myself. “Even demons like erotica, huh?” The demon’s pretty little mouth twisted into a grimace, and his eyes flicked over me once in utter distaste.
“Humans today have the most incongruous of manners. What is it that you want, human? I’m on my break, and if you’d be so kind as to hurry yourself along so I can finish reading my erotica – ” He rolled the word across his tongue as if it were toxic, and the corner of his mouth twitched in disgust. “I would be most – ” He paused again, and the next word was more than dripping with disdain. “Grateful.” He may as well have slapped me in the face and said, “Fuck you.” I swallowed hard and reigned in my temper. Arguing with a demon, even a secretary demon, was probably a bad idea.
“I answered the newspaper ad,” I said instead. It sounded stupid, even to me, but how else could I explain how I had ended up there? However, this startling revelation did little to change the demon’s general attitude of disinterest towards me.
“I see and how does that pertain to me?” he asked rudely, picking up his book again as if he’d given me all the help that he intended to. Which is to say, none. I clenched my fists and tried to count to ten. I stopped at six since it wasn’t helping anyway, and I was starting to feel like I was going to pass out from the excessive heat. Stupid fucking newspaper ad.
“You work for him, don’t you?” I asked, irritated but unwilling to engage him in witty repartee. His eyes lifted up from the page for a brief second and met mine before he decided the print was more interesting.
“Who?” he asked, this time with a touch of amusement in his voice. The damn demon was stringing me along, and he knew it.
“The Devil,” I said angrily. Now I was getting pissed. “You’re his secretary, aren’t you?”
In a flash of momentum that I could barely follow, the demon slammed the romance novel onto the desk, cracking the dark polished wood and sending the exercise ball rolling into the wall behind him. His eyes were literally glowing with rage, and smoke was rising from where his hands were pressed into the desktop. The demon’s next words were stilted and indignant.
“I … am … not … a … secretary,” he all but snarled at me. “I am an administrative assistant.”
I blinked slowly at him, my anger and irritation disappearing in my shock at his outburst.
“Alright, sorry. Administrative assistant. So you do work for the Devil?” The smoke coming from the desk ceased, and he smoothed his hands down the front of his white, button up shirt before turning around to retrieve his makeshift chair, giving me a closer look at his massive bat wings and a tight little ass. Too bad he's a complete prick, I found myself thinking as I scoped him out. What a waste.
“I suppose you could say that.” He looked at the charred remains of his novel with a sincere regret and a remorseful sigh. “Now, if you’re quite done ruining my afternoon, I suppose I can make you an appointment to see Mr. Lucifer if it will stop you from continuously harassing me.” He turned to his computer screen and began typing. I fidgeted uncomfortably and cleared my throat. The demon put a hand to his forehead and began massing his left temple. “What now?” he moaned, sounding drained, the loftiness all but gone from his voice.
“I can’t see him today?” I asked, wanting to get my three wishes and get the hell (no pun intended) out of there. He stared at me as if I were the craziest, or maybe just the stupidest, person he had ever laid eyes upon.
“Do you think you are the first person to have answered the advertisement?” He asked me, and I shrugged. I wasn’t sure how many people would answer an ad to sell their soul to the Devil. I wasn't sure how many people could even see an ad posted by the Lord of the Underworld. I was probably the only one. I neglected to mention that fact. When I didn't answer, the demon continued with, “Well you are most certainly not.” His voice was now on the verge of regaining its previous haughtiness. “And don’t think for even a minute that you are high on his list of priorities.” The demon resumed his typing. “I have an opening for April 28th, 2132.” He looked up at me as if waiting for my answer.
“You’re joking, right?” I asked him incredulously. “You must know that humans don’t live that long. I’ll be dead by then.” He frowned at me and sniffed rudely.
“Then I suppose this is not going to be a very fortuitous day for you, human. Take it or leave it.” I opened my mouth to argue when the phone on the desk rang. The demon flinched and picked up the receiver.
“Hell Incorporated, how may I help you?” he asked in the most cheerful voice I’d heard him use since I'd gotten there. Then all at once, his demeanor changed from superior-yet-charming to something more akin to a kicked dog. The demon’s face paled, and he shifted his leathery black wings in nervousness. “Yes, sir. One happened in just now, sir.” He stared at me for a moment, and then his eyes shifted anxiously away. “It doesn’t appear so, sir. Of course, I’ll send her right in.” He motioned me towards the nondescript white door behind and to the right of his desk.
I gave him a smug smile that I expected would annoy him to no end. Instead, he just averted his eyes from mine to stare at the navy blue, indoor-outdoor carpeting that covered the floor of the office. Shrugging, I opened the door to find a rather Stygian hallway. It was long and narrow and so dark and dingy that I couldn’t make out if it even had an end to it. It was a surprising change from the clean and brightly lit office. I wondered if it was the secretary’s – sorry, administrative assistant’s – personal decorating choices that kept it looking that way.
At least it’s cool in here, I thought as I wandered the doorless, cement walkway. I wasn’t worried about the lack of an exit although if I had been thinking clearly, maybe I should have been. I had a demon that obviously disliked me at my back and only way out and in front of me, a straight path to the Devil. I should have been scared, terrified even, at the prospect of meeting the man that people blamed everything from the plague to adulterous husbands on. But I wasn’t. Call me adventurous or maybe just stupid, but a thrill ran down my spine at the thought of what I was about to do. It was the first real decision I had ever made for myself. I'm actually excited.
A door appeared on my right, just like that, with a puff of smoke that was so I Dream of Genie that I h
ad to clamp my mouth down on the beginning of a chuckle. It did not do to laugh at the magical effects of one said Beelzebub. The door itself was a bit of a letdown, too, just a dark stained, cherry wood door, nothing demonic or frightening about it.
Before I could even reach out my hand, the knob turned and the door was opened by a woman in a butler’s uniform. White gloves adorned long, thin fingers and a black, button up jacket complete with coattails draped over a lithe, wiry body.
“Welcome, miss,” was all she said as she bowed and gestured for me to enter.
I sidestepped into the room and watched her warily as she shut the door behind me. That’s when I noticed her ears, long and pointed. When I say long, I mean long: they were at least a good eight inches. Truly, they were, and I wasn’t exaggerating like most guys are when they describe their fabled body parts. She straightened and smiled at me, her white blonde hair falling artfully around her shoulders. Her face was so thin and doll like it almost seemed alien. Elf? I wondered silently but decided against saying anything aloud. She kind of gave me the creeps.
The room we were standing in was small but cozy. A fire roared in the fireplace, and expensive looking tomes lined the back wall. I made myself a mental note not to touch anything. The elf woman turned silently and approached a set of double doors and, knocking briskly, she announced, “Sir, the girl you asked for has arrived.”
“Yeah, yeah, I hear you. Bring her in.” I had expected the Devil to have an evil, velvety voice made for seducing young maidens, not the gravelly, stressed out tones of someone on the verge of a nervous breakdown. The elf grasped the silver door handles, molded in the shape of roaring lions, and pulled. Almost immediately, I was greeted by a plume of thick, greasy cigarette smoke. Yay, lung cancer, I thought as I coughed and hacked my way into the Devil’s office.
The man behind the desk was just as unexpected as his voice. Bleary eyed and obviously extremely on edge, he looked like just about any other young executive. If you could ignore the pair of black horns protruding from his forehead, that is.
“I swear on my mother’s tits, if I get a summoning call from one more group of grubby, pimply faced teenagers in black robes with inverted pentagrams tattooed on their asses, I might actually show up and … and … ” Flames burst from behind him, and he took a deep drag on his cigarette, the lit end casting shadows on his already well-defined face. “Well, I’m not sure what I would do, but it would be horrible.” He took another drag and looked at me pointedly. “Were you waiting long?” I wasn’t sure what I was supposed to say, but I shuffled my feet and coughed into my hand. How does one address the Demon Lord of the Underworld? This wasn’t exactly something that was covered in Miss Manners.
“I – well – I was going to make an appointment,” I said as I watched the elf woman settle herself behind his chair. The Devil leaned forward, his black bangs obscuring his red eyes and his elbows resting on his desk as if he was waiting for me to continue. “Your administrative assistant said you were busy.” He continued to stare at me, unmoving except for the occasional puff on his cigarette. Then in a movement that was difficult to follow, especially with the myriad flames blazing around his being, he grabbed the phone and slammed his fist down on a large button.
“Levie!” he screeched. “Get in here, now!” And with that, he ripped the phone cord from the wall and threw it across the room. He ran shaking hands through his hair and lit a large cigar with a bit of flame from the tip of his finger. “I need to calm down,” he muttered, shuffling through some papers on his desk. “Contract, contract, where’s the contract?” The elf removed a hand from behind her back and presented him with a tidy looking scroll. He stared at it for a second like it was some strange, foreign object and then snatched it from her hand. As he was unrolling the yellowed parchment, the door opened and the demon from the front desk appeared.
He slunk into the room and just as I was marveling at his submissive attitude, he turned the full force of his glare on me. Damn. He was going to blame me for this and boy, was he pissed. I didn’t think that having a demon pissed at you was very good for one’s general well being.
“Levie,” the Devil said slowly, leaning back in his chair and crossing his legs. “What were you doing delaying this girl’s entry? You know that I’m way behind on this month’s quota. She is the first one to have answered our ad, and I’m getting desperate.” This time, it was my turn to look pissed. I gave ‘Levie’ my own hate filled glare. I wanted to say something but figured he was in enough trouble as it was, considering the amount of cowering that was going on. “People nowadays, they never want to make a deal with me anymore. They’re always giving their souls to Jesus.” The Devil scowled and tapped his fingers on the arm of his chair. “He always makes his quota.” He sighed and sat back up, straightened his collar, and adjusted his tie. “This can’t happen again, I don’t have time for this.”
“But – ” Levie began to protest but quieted as the Devil’s flames flared up again. He shifted his wings in a sort of defensive position around himself, as if he feared he was going to be struck.
“However, seeing as you are my nephew, I’m going to forgive you.” Levie sighed and straightened up a bit, some of his original arrogance leaking back into his posturing. “But I’m going to have to take you out of the office.” Levie looked alarmed, but the Devil continued before he had a chance to speak. “I’m putting you back in the field; it's time you got involved in the family business. Unlike your useless cousin.” The Devil scowled and a bit of flamed escaped the corner of his lip, wiped away promptly with a black handkerchief that he pulled from his front pocket. “And,” he said, pointing one black nailed finger at me. “I'm going to pair you with her.”
“Whoa, whoa,” I said holding my hands up. “I haven’t even signed anything yet.”
“Yes, well,” the Devil said, clearing his throat. “I was getting to that.” He removed a quill pen and an ink well from one drawer and a small box with a needle on top from another. Levie looked from me to his uncle.
“You can’t be serious, Uncle Lucifer. Really, this woman? She’s so … uncouth.” The Devil gave his nephew an evil glare that I knew must run in the family. Levie shook himself as if he were trying to shake it off and took a step backwards.
“Excuse me,” I interjected, hoping he wouldn’t turn the same look on me. “But what exactly is going on here?”
“It’s quite simple really,” the Devil said, smiling this time. “It’s all stated right here in the contract.” I approached the desk and turned the document around so that I could read it. “There are three basic conditions of which you need to be aware: First, no wishing for more wishes. Second, no wishing to undue previous wishes. And third, no wishing for anyone to fall in love. The price, one soul.” I wondered if they had a clearance bin, like the one at the department store with all the underwear in it. Maybe there was a discount for sullied souls or something. Yeah, I was cheap, so sue me. “All you need to do is sign and dot, that’s it. It’s up to you to read the fine print and understand all of the more subtle nuances therein.”
The deal sounded pretty shady to me, but then again, I wasn’t much of a fan of reading fine print. Anyone could tell that just from taking a look at my credit card bill. Who really has an APR of 27%? Not wanting to make another mistake, I decided I would at least try to read it. But as I grabbed the scroll and continued to unroll it, and unroll it, and unroll it, I quickly changed my mind.
“Hey, Genie,” I said, tapping the paper with one finger. “What exactly are you going to do with my soul once you have it?”
“You shall be required to fulfill your contractual obligations, as would any full-time employee of Hell Incorporated, and become a valued member of our corporate family. This doesn’t begin, of course, until after you die.” I stared at him for awhile, my mind frantically trying to talk me out of it. The speech was all corporate-babble-gook. I was used to hearing it at work anyway. Normally it didn't bother me that I had no idea wh
at was going on. Here, it could be fatal. Or soultal. Or something.
“You’re not going to try and kill me, are you?” The Devil stared blankly for a moment and blew a ring of cigar smoke at me.
“Now, why would we waste our time doing that? You humans die rapidly enough as it is.” He leaned back and swung crossed legs up onto his desk. “Are you going to sign the contract or not? I haven’t got all day. I’ve got a cult suicide to attend. Without them, it’d be pointless to even try to make my quota. Jesus Christ, that proselytizing bastard. Mary Magdalene was my childhood sweetheart.” Not wanting to delve even deeper into the Devil’s personal life, I quickly changed the subject.
“But what do I do if I have a problem?” He grinned and glanced at his nephew.
“All questions and disputes are to be dealt with by your caseworker.” Now the deal was beginning to look sour. Selling my soul was one thing but having to deal with that thing was another issue altogether.
“Any chance I could get another caseworker?” Apparently, I’d said something funny because the Devil let out a boisterous roar of laughter. He wiped the tears from the corners of his eyes.
“All caseworker assignments are final.” Mentally, I sighed, but what was I going to do? I wanted this deal, maybe even needed it. I didn't have any prospects or goals, and let's just face it, seeing supernatural beings sort of set me apart from everyone else. It was a lonely life. Not to mention that the thought of going back to that job made me want to hurl. I just wouldn’t ask for Levie’s help.
“Where do I sign?” I asked. The Devil waved his cigar at the contract.
“Sign your full name next to the red X and prick your finger on this.” He pushed the needle box towards me. “And dot on the solid line.” I did as he asked and waited to feel different.
“That’s it? Shouldn’t I feel something?” I asked. The Devil looked at me strangely.
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