by Eve Langlais
“Slow down there, Daddy. You’re going to wear a hole in the floor you’re pacing so hard. Calm your nerves and take slow, deep breaths.”
He paused and glared. “Are you placating me?”
“Mocking, actually.” Muriel winked.
Apparently having a harem of men didn’t curb her of disrespect. Perhaps he should send more discipline videos for her husbands to study. He had recorded an entire collection.
“I will gladly kill you when the time comes, but today is not that day. Take a look at this.” He swept his hand at the recreation of Hell, a diorama painstakingly created by a team of building block engineers. The detail was incredible.
“Playing with toys again?” Muriel teased, but she did stand closer to it.
Bambi slinked over to the table with the demolished blocks tumbled all over. “What happened here?” She ran a finger through the rubble.
How to explain that while he’d been plotting the demise of the mortal plane Junior had crawled over and demanded Lucifer pick him up. The baby, though, didn’t want his father’s arms but the contents of the table. Watching Junior trample the world, crushing the human armies and waving his arms as he exclaimed, “Bow, peasants!” had Lucifer beaming in pride.
No point in letting the lad know that it most likely would not be him eventually leading the armies of darkness. The boy wouldn’t be seasoned enough. But Muri and her husband generals would be just right. Maybe he wouldn’t kill any of them yet. The prophecy did say something about the lamb arriving with her ten herders. Yet there was also the prediction in the ancient sea scroll he’d stolen that didn’t mention him with any of his daughters by his side.
He’d not told anyone about the prophecies he’d been collecting. Some secrets were for the devil alone.
“Ignore the broken blocks. That tableau isn’t important. I need you to look at this rendition of Hell. More specifically, the fourth ring.” The soldiers’ ring. Where his legion lived and learned before getting stationed to other rings to serve and protect the realm.
“What about it?” Muriel asked, swirling her finger amidst a battalion, knocking them over.
“What you’re looking at are the current recruits.”
It was Bambi who said it first. “Doesn’t seem like you have as many this year.”
“Less even than last year. With a prediction it will get worse. People aren’t having little demons like they used to. Fewer and fewer damned are signing up to fight in my service,” Lucifer railed.
“You’re exaggerating. I’m sure it will get better. Put out some more recruiting posters. Improve the pay and benefits. You should be happy no one wants to sign up. It’s the best indication of a prosperous kingdom. You don’t need a big army in times of peace.” Muriel just had to make him feel even worse.
“It is exactly because of that peace that we do! Complacency leads to fewer numbers. Fewer numbers weakens us. And that is when the enemy steps in.” Did she think him new at this? He’d not ruled Hell this long by ignoring the signs.
“I think you’re overreacting,” Muriel stubbornly insisted. “Sure, the numbers are a little down. Blame that mini war with Lilith that decimated the ranks.”
Lilith had been powering some spells using the damned. He’d lost too many before they’d managed to destroy her.
“I guess it didn’t help that we then had that problem with Ursula when she escaped from that prison dimension,” Bambi reminded. Most of the ninth ring had perished when the seas rose and covered the land.
“Double whammy,” he agreed. “And not as bad as others Hell has gone through. In the past we’ve always recovered. But this time is different.”
“Why?” Muri asked.
“Because someone has been spreading free condoms throughout my Legion.” Unprotected sex. It was practically a rule. Fornicate and if someone got pregnant, then Hell gained a new volunteer.
“Don’t look at me. I would never give out condoms. I hate the feel of rubber in my cavern of unholy acts.” Bambi shrugged, and Lucifer knew if he’d been any other man, she would have let her shirt slip and show off a nip.
Chip off the old slut block, she was. She and her sister Muriel. Hard to believe his youngest, who once spouted she’d only lose her virginity to love, was now courting a fifth member for her harem. He’d have been happier if she was using that jizz cocktail to make super-grandbabies. Unfortunately, Muriel was having issues with her womanly parts. Something about Lilith fucking her right up when she’d stolen Lucille, his first granddaughter.
“Condoms, the shots, and that bloody morning-after pill are ruining my plans for world domination!” Hell and Earth had both been seeing lower birth rates since contraception became widespread. And as for abortion… Not one of those fledgling souls ended up in hell. Meaning they’d gone straight to heaven. What could those angels—led by his nephew Charlie—be doing with all those teeny tiny souls?
“What are you talking about? Evil acts are up. People are sinning more than ever. Why they say the 2020s will probably be the turning point where divorces outweigh marriage. Think of all those people fornicating and living in sin,” Muri declared.
“But they’re not making babies, Muri! My legion is only at a fraction of what it used to be. For the first time in eons, the rings have stopped growing. We actually have room for everyone. Or did you not notice the ninth ring and the space beyond it?” He pointed at the Wilds, represented as a sheet of darkness because few went and returned. Mapping wasn’t possible because it was ever changing.
“What’s happening?” Muriel frowned as her gaze tracked over the space he indicated.
“What you are seeing is a shrinkage of the ninth ring. By all accounts, the Wilds are closing in.”
“Eating the ring?” Muriel gasped.
“Doing something to it. No way yet to stop it. No way of knowing if it will cease before reaching the eighth.”
“What of the people living in the ninth? The animals? What’s happening to them once the Wilds take over their strip?” Bambi asked, pointing to a small village in the encroaching black wave’s way.
“No idea. I’ve yet to get a proper report back. It would seem agents sent into the Wilds aren’t returning at the moment.”
“Oh shit. That’s no good.”
“If only my most experienced tracker, who’s been beyond the ninth ring, could find out what is happening.”
Muriel glared. “You are not sending Teivel into that death trap. Have Nef cast a spell or something.” Nef being Nefertiti, his ancient sorceress.
“What a great idea, because we didn’t try scrying first.” She deserved the sarcastic retort.
“Didn’t you just say Hell had room again?” Muri mused aloud. “Could be that we’re shrinking because of the decrease in numbers. Might be that it will stop when we reach a point of balance?”
“We’ve been balanced for almost two thousand years. I know the signs. We’re about to head into a tipping point.” Those were never good. During one of them, his brother had a temper tantrum and drowned almost the entire population on Earth. All those new souls arriving in Hell tied up his ability to pursue other things for decades. Then, just as he caught up, there was that skirmish in South America. The Inca knew how to wage a proper war.
“You think the world is tipping in Heaven’s favor?” Muriel shook her head. “Impossible. We totally outnumber them. You know getting past the pearly gates takes a perfect record.”
“I am well aware of the criteria; a clean soul, without a blemish.” He couldn’t help thinking of those who supported abortion. Little did they know they were doing his brother’s work. Releasing souls before they had a chance to become imperfect by sinning.
How many millions now? Hell had been building its numbers for a long time; however, Lilith’s attack, not to mention attrition, had put a serious dent in them.
“How do you propose we fix this supposed imbalance?” Muriel asked, more than a little sarcastically.
“I’m
going to need more souls. More demons. More everything, or we’re doomed.”
2
What’s a devil have to do to get some respect?
Lucifer’s pronouncement echoed, and yet Muri didn’t appear impressed. Even Bambi rolled her eyes.
The disrespect had him huffing smoke. “Is there a problem? I don’t see either of you looking worried.”
“Because you also claimed we were doomed last week when you couldn’t find your other ducky sock.”
“It was my fanged duck sock for your information. Special order, and I needed it to complete my outfit.” People expected a certain level of style from him these days. Every day he posted images of his ensemble on Hellagram, Hellbook, and other places. The people needed to see their king looking his best.
Muri didn’t appear swayed. “What about the week before when you said everyone would die after the kitchen informed you of a hellberry shortage caused by the Hell-freezing-over issue that killed off most of the bushes.”
“Everyone almost did die. You know I need my pie.”
“What about three months ago when you said Hell was doomed if you didn’t get tickets to the Backstreet Boys reunion concert?” Bambi was next to pile on.
“I might have exaggerated a little bit.” He squeezed his fingers. In his defense, Backstreet Boys was one of his finer accomplishments.
Muri snorted. “You are the devil who cries apocalypse all the time. It’s hard to believe you.”
Lucifer turned serious. “The lack of minions is serious.”
“I thought you were handling it with your super-duper matchmaking skills. Aren’t you responsible for like dozens of hookups? Remy and Ysabel, Katie and that serious dude who skulks around, Charon’s boy and stuff?”
“Yes, yes. Blah. Blah. I got them knocking boots and there will hundreds more banging by the time the Hell on the High Seas cruises take off. But it’s not enough. We need more minions, which is why it’s time to infiltrate the mortal plane.”
Muri’s eyes widened. “You mean pair your demons with humans to create super babies?”
He nodded. “Yes, except I cannot send my demons in any great numbers to the mortal plane without you-know-who noticing.” He eyed the ceiling and wondered what his nephew Charlie was up to. Ever since he’d taken over from Lucifer’s brother, Charlie had gone silent. While the souls that made it to the gates of heaven appeared to be getting inside, no one was coming out. Nor was there any news.
What did his nephew plot? Him and those damned angels. And what of Elyon? No one had heard from him since the angels took him into custody at his granddaughter’s birthday party.
“Sending demons up top is a bad idea. You’d be better off bringing some humans to Hell instead,” Muri suggested.
Bambi finally took an interest in the conversation. “Have you forgotten the air is bad for their lungs?” Hell and its constantly falling ash wasn’t healthy for carbon-based creatures.
“Daddy could build them a habitat.”
“I could, but that seems like a lot of work for me, and the whole point was to delegate. No, the best plan is for my most valuable minions to head to the mortal plane to plant some seeds.”
“Send demons with orders to fuck humans and no one to keep an eye on them?” Muri recapped in a low drawl. “Gee, I wonder how that could go wrong. First off, you do realize that people are going to notice if a demon with horns and hooves is walking around?”
“Not necessarily. I’ve seen some of the new clothing trends out there,” Lucifer remarked. “And besides, they’d obviously wear a glamour.”
“Not all of your minions are compatible with mortals.”
“Then they don’t get to go.” Seemed obvious to him.
“Who gets to decide that? Not to mention they’ll be pissed if they’re not chosen,” Muri argued.
“I’ll give them hellgrog to drown their troubles.” He waved a hand. “We will only send our most likely to impregnate and tell them to get busy.”
“You can’t tell them that!” Muriel shrieked. “Women have rights now, you know.”
“Meaning men don’t?” He rubbed his chin. “Maybe I’ll just send female demons then.”
“That’s not what I meant,” his youngest daughter huffed. “You can’t just open a portal to Earth and send your minions over with instructions to get someone pregnant.”
“Muri has a point. Demons and many others that are used to Hell’s more lax laws might get into trouble if let loose. Their antics could very well draw his attention.”
All three of them eyed the ceiling, even though heaven wasn’t technically above.
“Who said there won’t be rules? Freedom isn’t the ultimate evil, after all. It’s clauses with subclauses.” He rubbed his hands. “There will also be a submission process. With a test. And a physical.”
“And? They still need someone to monitor them to make sure they don’t step out of line,” Muriel pointed out.
“Obviously, which is why they’ll be overseen.”
“By whom? You were just whining your legion was too small.”
The mention of the S word in his presence made him want to whip out his dick and prove otherwise, but these were his daughters. Even he had some boundaries.
“The legion is needed here, but we do have another underutilized group.”
“Who?” Muri asked, curiosity in the word.
“You might have heard about our overabundance of reapers.” His fault. He’d transformed so many of them when it appeared as if that bird flu would eradicate a good chunk of the population. However, at the last minute, his brother tweaked the virus and saved the world. As if to compound that insult, none of the countries had yet committed to engaging in a world war. Stupid peace talks.
All those people staying alive left him with too many soul takers, beings meant to act as guides to the freshly departed, ensuring they ended up in Hades where they belonged. The sixth ring with its many reaper guilds was bulging with the currently unemployed.
“You’re going to stud out your reapers?” Bambi asked with a finely arched brow.
“Yes. And no. I was thinking of encouraging their contact with humans but also using them to scout viable subjects that might be useful copulation partners for some of my demons that aren’t interested in settling down.” Most demons thought monogamy was torture. He’d heard the whispers behind his back wondering how the Dark Lord, the most sexually prolific of them all, could stand being with one woman. After all, he’d coined the term sex addict.
What they didn’t know was Gaia could become any woman—or man—and had an ability to clone herself that any superhero would envy. Roleplaying kept their sex life spicy.
“Sounds like you want to start up a grim dating service,” Bambi joked.
“As a matter of fact, I do, and I want you and Muri to be in charge of it.”
3
The gloom proved palpable in the Grim Guild. Hundreds of reapers, sitting around long trestle tables, doing fuck all. It led to more than a few fights, and Brody let it happen. He’d long ago given up on disciplining them for blowing off steam. Quite frankly, at times, Brody wanted to join them in hitting something.
Two centuries since he’d been put in charge. Over half a century since they’d had any real work.
The crew was bored and lacking direction. It had gotten so bad some of the reapers had even chosen to go to their final deaths by throwing themselves into the abyss—a bottomless hole at the center of Hell where souls could go to be recycled. Although Brody did have to wonder if the whole recycling thing was true. After all, no one could actually confirm it happened. Souls reborn in bodies on the mortal plane didn’t remember their past lives, no matter what a certain religion claimed.
Sitting on his platform, overlooking a guild once mighty, Brody sighed. What would it take to get them busy again? To knock the dust off their cloaks, the dull off their scythes, and put a glide in their step? Would someone stop screwing around and launch that biolog
ical weapon! A nuclear meltdown would be epic. Or as his lieutenant, Julio, suggested when drunk one boring night, what if all the wind turbines in a certain province suddenly ripped around and went scything across the land?
Personally, he thought their next best bet would be an ice storm that knocked out power during a deep freeze that lasted for days or, if lucky, weeks.
Without a knock or any warning, the massive double doors were flung open, slamming into the reapers standing guard. They were smooshed into the wall behind the portal. Only the edges of their robes peeked out as Hell’s biggest slut entered.
“It’s Bambi.” The appearance of Lucifer’s oldest daughter was an honor that had many stirring and straightening their hoods. Everyone recognized Bambi, even the guild commander. Not that Brody had ever partaken of her services, but he knew many in this room who’d had the carnal delight. Seen the videos, too. If he weren’t so depressed, she might have even tempted a known celibate like Brody.
Although, if he were to indulge, it wouldn’t be inside the guild. Only reapers were allowed within the guild walls. Bambi surely knew that, so why the fuck did she strut through the Grim Guild as if she owned it? More than a few gazes undressed her, not that there was much to strip. Her dress made it clear undergarments were not included.
A few reapers dropped hands to their laps for a less-than-discreet tug, which got them slapped by their feminine counterparts. Except for Karina. She had her hand shoved down her pants as far as any of her grim brothers.
Given Bambi appeared to be heading for him, Brody shoved off his seat and circled his empty desk. As grim leader for the Canadian branch, he managed one of the least busy reaper guilds. Fucking Canadians hadn’t had a good war since the 1940s. Although they’d seen a slight uptick in 2019 from distracted driving, that wouldn’t last. Already the government was passing strict laws that would curb that deadly habit.
Spoilsports.
“What do you want?” Brody barked, standing on the edge of his platform and glaring at her.
