Hell Inc. (2 page)

“Have
you ever considered yourself to be lacking in propriety?” asked
the demon at the front desk; orange eyes glared at me over wire
rimmed spectacles. “I said, how may I
help
you?” He was drumming his long, red fingernails on the
polished mahogany of his desktop and clutching a book in the other hand. I had the feeling that that
was at least the third time he'd asked me that very same question. I
took a deep breath and blew a puff of hot air out and up in an
utterly worthless attempt at getting the hair away from my eyes.

“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was a normal enough office with its row of plastic chairs, outdated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 28
^th
, 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 had 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.