The Department of Hate - A Love Story (14 page)

The congregation, breaking out of their trance, picked up on his terror - magnifying it further, if that was even possible. They became a panicked mob and made for the exit en masse pushing and screaming. Raum's immediate victims stumbled away from the altar - pulling up what was left of their clothing as best they could and ran out with the rest. Jarrod was barely able to keep standing and lost contact with Olivia. In just seconds he was left alone in the church. He looked about, shaking his head - well this was certainly one for the books. No-one would believe him though. He pictured himself trying to tell McDowell. Yeah sure, that was going to work. He could barely begin to make sense of what his own role in all of this had been. But the demon had looked straight into his eyes - there was no doubt of that - and had seen something that terrified him. He walked outside still feeling quite calm – completely detached. There was no-one there. They'd run off in all directions. Well, he would see Olivia at the University sooner or later. Until then there was not much he could do. He started walking back to the station pulling his coat tightly around him, feeling very cold.  A demon! In Faringdon!  It was too much. His basic instinct was to get away – try to forget it ever happened.

He used his card going through the turnstile and proceeded along the corridor towards platform three. This late in the evening no one else was around - the corridor seemed to be empty. He was in a strange mood. He was trying not to think about the events at the church, blocking it out - not yet, plenty of time for that later. It was just too big. The implications were staggering. Instead he found himself obsessing on something Olivia had said earlier - that he was too analytical. He hated it when they used that particular move - so simplistic, so dishonest, so self serving. It would have been nice to go home with her. She had a nice body. Too analytical!  Wouldn’t get it! As if for a moment her tiny little mind could possibly grasp what he did or didn’t get. They were all so fucking stupid when it came down to it. So limited! He kept repeating the line, parsing out the implications - when someone suddenly stepped in front of him and snarled

"Hey! Asshole!"
Jarrod stopped and looked up. A tall and very large man was standing there; he had a flat weather beaten face, short black hair, piercing blue eyes, ragged clothes, brown and dirty. He was holding a large knife and staring at Jarrod. He looked extremely angry and agitated. Jarrod smiled, thinking that he was not as angry and agitated as he would have been if he'd just been back at the church getting fucked up the ass by a demon from Hell. Well possibly not - hard to tell with some people. Jarrod just laughed at him – he felt invincible. What a joke! His assailant snarled back at him

“Don’t laugh at me, I’ll fucking kill you. Hand over your wallet!"
Jarrod didn’t move. He had no intention of handing it over, but he wasn't going to fight him either. He didn’t feel any fear, just amusement. Still, it wasn't clear to him just what his options were. He had to do something. His assailant lost what little patience he had and made a move towards Jarrod. Suddenly there was another man standing behind the mugger. The third man grabbed a fist full of hair and pulled back the mugger’s head exposing his throat. Then in one swift perfect move he pulled out a large knife with his other hand, made a broad slicing move with it and cut the would be mugger’s throat. Jarrod blinked. His assailant’s dead body fell to the ground before him. He was quite obviously dead or dying - with blood gushing from his throat. The third man looked at Jarrod evenly.  He motioned with his eyes to a spot on the far wall where the CCTV was located. He quite clearly meant

'They'll know it wasn't you'.
He nodded then turned around and walked off.  Jarrod watched him go, exclaiming out loud

“What the fuck?”
Around the corner out of sight of Jarrod and of any other surveillance cameras he shrank in size and reverted back to his normal form. It was the gnome. The gnome then walked towards the nearest wall and disappeared into it. He was grinning from ear to ear, quietly singing

"Hey Ho, Hey Ho, it's off to work we go."
He was not supposed to intervene unless it was absolutely necessary - and he did just so thoroughly enjoy 'intervening'.

Jarrod stood there waiting for the police to arrive. He could hear some commotion from further off. Someone was reacting. What a day! Caroline Lerner dead, a Black Mass, a fucking demon, and then a mugger killed in front of his eyes. Now, no doubt, he would be interrogated for hours on end by feeble minded detectives in love with their own self-delusion of toughness – though none of course would be so overbearing or unendurable as DCI Boone. He could hardly wait for the trip to Amsterdam - weekend after next. Strange things were happening all around him. The pace seemed to be quickening. Not for the first time he asked himself

"What the fuck is going on?"

Chapter 13 – Sloth and Gluttony

Early the next morning Jarrod and Cassandra approached the entrance to the Department of Sloth, quietly hoping that a solution was finally at hand. Something had to go right. The thought of staying in this abysmal place for even another day, let alone forever, was just too depressing. Lord Paimon, who ran the department, had one of the compass devices and according to Asmodeous would be happy to give it to them. It occurred to Jarrod that either Asmodeous or Paimon or both of them simply wanted to get rid of him. Maybe take over his department. He would have to check with Abaddon – but then he could be in on it too. Jarrod almost smiled. In Hell it was not possible to be paranoid enough. But Asmodeous did seem perfectly content where he was – if ‘content’ was the right word for it. Maybe it was just to get rid of him - nothing more. The thought of Asmodeous started to make him feel angry and hateful. He knew that Asmodeous hated him back with equal intensity.

Cassandra could see him scowling. She held his hand and smiled, encouraging him. She spoke softly

“We’ll be all right.” And maybe they would. She really didn’t know what to think. She knew that she started to shake when she even just thought about the gnomes back in the apartment. She looked about anxiously. How many were there? Where were they? One of the attackers had to be the one who had been shadowing her for her whole life - hopefully the one in the middle whose head had been bashed in by Jarrod. She desperately wanted to know who he was and why he stalked her. Maybe that was just what they did. But she thought that there had to be more to it than that – especially given the incident in the park just before she took the fateful trip to London. Thinking about the gnome, she started to shake again. Jarrod noticed and squeezed her hand, replying quietly

“Of course we will
.”

There was a large demon standing in the open doorway – obviously waiting there for them. As they approached he spoke out loudly

“
My Lord Beelzebub, welcome, come in, come in.” They followed him inside.  They went through a small entrance foyer which opened immediately out onto a large auditorium. The demon was speaking just to him. Like all of he others he was attempting to ignore Cassandra completely.

“I am Nabarus my Lord, Lord Paimon’s chief assistant. Lord Asmodeous told us you were coming. Lord Paimon is not available. But I have the compass device in the main office, ready for you
.” Jarrod turned towards him. Had Asmodeous sent a messenger during the night? He asked

“How did you know?”
Nabarus answered quickly – almost embarrassed to be saying what he did. He’d heard that Lord Beelzebub was far from himself.

“My Lord, all of the major demons are telepathic, many of the minor ones too. You will be
too ... when you ... um... get well ....my Lord.” But now they had moved into the auditorium itself and as interesting as all this was it was impossible to pay any further attention to him given the utter pandemonium breaking out in front of them.

There were thousands of demons in long rows of seats, their eyes glued to a very large screen at the front of the auditorium.  The pungent aroma of vast quantities of burning weed wafted through the air. Most of the demons lounged back in their seats – eyes glazed. But a number of them were agitated, jumping up and down, screaming at each other, and violently arguing. It was some kind of old sitcom, a rerun. Jarrod started to make it out. Gilligan! Gilligan’s island!  Ginger and MaryAnne were arguing with the Professor. From the auditorium there were loud desperate cries of

“MaryAnne, MaryAnne
.” But competing with this were equally loud, equally desperate groans of

“Ginger,Ginger
.” They were clearly capable of destroying each other over the issue of which of the two women was the more desirable.  Jarrod couldn’t fail to notice that hundreds of the demons were furiously masturbating – oblivious to everyone else. Jarrod watched all of this with some amazement. He said out loud

“Well, that’s a bit bizarre.”
He looked at Cassandra. She looked back at him, raised her eyebrows, shrugged.

Nabarus wasn’t amused. He even seemed apologetic. He looked sadly out over the auditorium

“Things have gone down hill since television my Lord - Gilligan’s Island, I Love Lucy, endless reruns.  Most of them stoned to the eyeballs most of the time, and the rest, well ....”  He pointed, vaguely.  “At least they take an interest.  The Nanny drives them crazy – and as for the Charmed Ones ... through the fucking roof.”
Jarrod replied calmly

“Not quite what I expected
.” Nabarus clearly frustrated but more or less resigned to his own ineffectiveness replied

“We are supposed to be corrupting them my Lord.”
Cassandra had been listening carefully. She seemed puzzled. She spoke up

“But why exactly?”
Nabarus just looked at her, astonished that she had presumed to speak. He replied harshly

“What!”
Jarrod intervened

“No, please explain.”
He had a pretty good idea but wanted to hear it from Nabarus in his own words. Nabarus seemed uncertain

“But you must know my Lord?”
Jarrod replied

“Humour me.”
Nabarus stared back at Cassandra with open hostility but he dared not disobey. He spoke to her harshly and condescendingly

“It’s very simple even for a human. God made the angels first. But he arbitrarily deemed some of us imperfect. His own fault by any rational assessment! He made us. He says we rebelled but how could we not. We fought but we were defeated and cast out – forever excluded, unworthy.  Then he made you lot - physical creatures, material, flesh and blood, just animals, eating and shitting, disgusting, grotesque and stupid, feeble intellects, drive and will virtually non-existent, slobbering non-entities. But you were so favoured, so preferred. He even incarnated as one of you!  What
He sees in you I have no idea. But if we are to be excluded from Paradise there’s no way you stupid little fucks are getting in either.” Jarrod nodded. Milton said it better. But Cassandra seemed surprised. She spoke slowly and quietly

“I never thought of it that way
.” But then, taking note of Nabarus’s continued hostile glare, and taking exception to it, she looked out over the assemblage of dazed stoneheads, television addicts and fervid onanists, raised her voice and said defiantly             

“But then you are all such obvious examples of a superior master race.”
If Jarrod hadn’t been there Nabarus would clearly have torn her limb from limb. As it was he had to just stand there, glowering. Jarrod was highly amused; he couldn’t have said it better.

After Nabarus calmed down he motioned for them to follow him and walked along the side of the hall and then out another door towards the rear. He was leading them down a connecting corridor when they ran into another demon. Jarrod could see from his manner that the newcomer was of lower rank but not just a soldier. He instantly thought of him as some kind of clerk. Jarrod became suspicious; he knew this one from somewhere.  Nabarus was completely dismissive

“Out of the way Raum, I have no time for you now.”
The demon Raum quickly stepped to the side of the corridor. Jarrod called out

“Wait.”  He looked carefully at Raum.  “Don’t I know you from somewhere?”
Raum seemed terrified. He stuttered

“No, my Lord. No. No. Never, my Lord
.” Nabarus was trying to figure out what was going on. He spoke to Beelzebub

“This is Raum, my Lord. One of the assistants to Orias, who is chief assistant to Lord Gaap who runs the Department of Envy.”
He was slowly getting used to the idea that Beelzebub didn’t remember any of this. But he knew it was only a matter of time until Beelzebub remembered everything and then anyone who had slighted him in any way, or failed to be fully cooperative, would regret it dearly.

Jarrod was still staring at Raum trying to remember where he’d seen him. Raum was squirming in his place near the wall not daring to move from it. Jarrod questioned him further

“What are you here for?”
Raum answered slowly, still stuttering

“I am requesting a transfer My Lord. Lord Gaap has approved. I just need ...”
Nabarus spoke out loudly, interrupting him

“He’ll be glad to get rid of you, no doubt
.” Raum was notorious for shirking his duties in favour of his many recreational trips to Earth – not that he wasn’t secretly envied by many. Before Raum could reply to Nabarus, Jarrod spoke to him again, asking him

“But where do I know you from?”
Raum could hardly speak he was so scared

“Nowhere my Lord, Nowhere. Nowhere.”
He deeply regretted the incident in the church, or at least he regretted getting caught. Beelzebub would have him gutted and beheaded if he found out. Cast into the Pit too, went without saying.  Impersonating a Lord was a serious offence. Cassandra was curious, she asked Jarrod

“What’s going on, who is he?”
Jarrod was losing interest

“I don’t know. I’ve seen him before, somewhere.”
Raum waited breathlessly for any verdict that might be coming. Cassandra looked him over

“They all look the same to me. They’re all assholes.”
Jarrod replied

“Yeah, I guess you’re right. It doesn’t matter.”
They moved on down the corridor with Nabarus.  Raum was left leaning against the wall.  He let out a great sigh of relief – as quietly as he could. That had been a close one.  It had left him so anxious he could hardly wait for the next black mass or the next séance. He would pretend to be someone else though.

Nabarus led them into what had to be the main office. It was large but plain and functional – no decorations at all, no colour. They waited just inside the door while he made his way to a large desk at the centre of the room.  As he opened one of the drawers and reached into it he looked up and asked Jarrod

“If I may ask my Lord, why are you going back to Earth and why now, there doesn’t seem much point?”
Jarrod looked at him blankly

“No, you may not ask.”
Nabarus replied quickly

“Yes my Lord, certainly my Lord.”
He seemed to be rummaging through the drawer. He looked up, confused

“It’s not here my Lord. I don’t understand, I checked earlier.” He thought about it for a few moments. “Lord Paimon must have taken it with him.”
Jarrod hadn’t expected it to be too easy. Wearily, he asked

“And where is Lord Paimon?”
Nabarus hurried to explain

“He is visiting Lord Marbas, my Lord – he runs the department of gluttony, next door. They are having a barbecue breakfast.”
Jarrod knew there had to something more to it than that but decided not to ask, instead he demanded

“Which one?”
Nabarus answered

“Next building around, heading towards the Great Hall, my Lord
.” Jarrod turned to Cassandra.

“I guess that’s where we’re going there now.”
Cassandra replied simply

“I guess so.”
As they walked back through the auditorium they noticed that an episode of Charmed had started. All of the demons that weren’t completely stoned were reacting to it with great exuberance. The ones that were jerking off were really going for it - eyes glazed, bat shit crazy. Others called out. Earnest agonized professions of never ending love for Phoebe or Paige or Piper. Heartfelt groans of lust insatiable. Screams of triumph as the young witches vanquished yet another demon.  One loud plaintive cry echoed out over the hall

“Oh Piper, please Piper, show us your tits.”

Once they were outside they started walking along the pathway to the next building – the Department of Gluttony, according to Nabarus.  Jarrod wondered what fresh horrors this would reveal. Cassandra sighed

“That was a bit weird, but it could have been worse. At least they weren’t hurting anyone.” Jarrod smiled sadly and pointed to their left. Lost souls were still pouring into the Pit, all of them screaming out in despair as they fell. Their number seemed to be increasing, quite noticeably.  Cassandra replied glumly

“Well, yes, there’s always that.”
Jarrod reassured her

“We will never, ever, end up in there.”
But he knew that he couldn’t really be sure of that, and Cassandra knew it too.

                        ***************

When they reached the Department of Gluttony they were met at the door by one of Marbas’s aides who ushered them through a long series of corridors and into a large open room where some kind of party was in full swing. There were hundreds of demons - all of them obviously high ranking. They were well dressed, loud and pompous. The room had a large open skylight overhead and some kind of fighting ring in the middle. They couldn’t make out much about the ring - it was on a sunken level and surrounded by rows of demons tightly packed. The demons were watching something, avidly - screaming out encouragement or abuse as they deemed fit.  Most of them had slave girls, standing beside them, naked, collared and leashed. On the other side of the sunken area, along the far wall, there was a long row of large barbecue grillers – on each of them a naked human, spitted, turning, slowly being grilled. There was a variety of shapes and sizes - a mixture of males and females.  Cassandra moved in closer to Jarrod, holding him