Hell Inc.

by C. M. Stunich

  “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 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.

  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 what 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.

  “What exactly were you expecting?” I wasn’t sure, so I didn’t answer.

  “Now remember, if you’re interested we have a cell phone special. Sign up for unlimited nights and weekends and receive one wish, free of charge.” I blinked at him stupidly. “Or you can use our refer a friend program. Refer three friends and receive a bonus wish.” And further confirm to my friends and family that I am one hundred percent, absolutely, certifiably insane. No thank you.

  “That’s okay,” I said and then added (making an ass out of myself in the process), “I have AT&T.” The Devil rolled up the contract, and it disappeared in a puff of smoke.

  “Well, the offers are still valid for the next six months, so if you change your mind ... Now, if you’d please excuse me, I have extra work to do. I must find myself a new, competent secretary.”

  “Administrative assistant,” Levie corrected.

  Apparently the price for otherworldly, interdimensional travel was a throbbing, tooth numbing headache. I groaned and rolled over, reaching for the folded classifieds that I'd left sitting on my nightstand. My hand fumbled around blindly as my ears buzzed and my mind clouded over like I'd downed an entire bottle of Absolut. Not that that sounded like a bad idea. But first I needed to determine if last night had been real or just some delusional whimsy induced by an evening of late night T.V. and microwaveable popcorn. Either way, the classifieds were gone. “Goddamn gnomes,” I snarled, throwing my feet out of bed and into fuzzy, pink, bunny slippers. So I was still a kid at heart, big deal.

  I opened the door to the bathroom and sighed as a group of gnomes dropped the newspaper into the toilet while another of the pointy-hat-wearing, little creeps pulled down the handle and flushed it. They leapt off of my porcelain throne and dashed into one of the cabinets in the vanity. I knew it was pointless to even try to go after them. If I opened the cabinet now, they'd be gone. I had no idea where they went when they ran like that; there were no cracks or holes in the wall that I could make out. I sighed at the futility of it and opened the medicine cabinet, snatching a bottle of ibuprofen.

  The Glade Flameless Candles were still there, all dead, cheap batteries having given o
ut hours ago. And the room stank like ass from the discarded chicken hearts. At least I hadn't imagined everything. I shook my head and popped the top off the bottle. Inside, on top of the actual pills, was a crumpled condom. Not a used one, mind you, because that would just be nasty, but one still conveniently wrapped in silver foil. I stamped my foot and shook my fist at the giggling voices I could hear coming from the shower drain.

  “I can take a hint, Goddamn it. Leave me alone!” I shouted. This had gone on before. I'd had this little infestation for awhile now, but there really was nothing that I could do about it. It's not like I could call an exterminator. After all, as far as I knew, I was the only person who could even see them.

  “You need to get laid,” one of them called back as I tightened my fists and grit my teeth, fully prepared to take a toilet plunger over there and beat some gnome ass. But I was lazy and useless, and so I just threw the condom in the toilet and flushed it down.

  Life had been like this since before I could remember. And it wasn't just gnomes that I could see, it was everything. And when I say everything, I mean everything: the Loch Ness monster, el chupacabra, fairies, leprechauns. You name it, I had seen it. I'd learned at a very young age not to say anything about it to anyone. After all, young girls who complained about the boogie man who had taken up residence under their beds were told not to be silly, that it was just their imaginations. Adult women who complained about gnomes moving their things around their apartments were taken to the nuthouse. Therefore, I felt that it was in my best interest to try my hardest to ignore it all. However, watching a dragon step over vehicles during rush hour was a tad hard not to take notice of, but a girl could try, couldn't she?

  I downed several more of the tiny orange pills than was really prudent and traded the little plastic bottle for my toothbrush. As I brushed my teeth and watched myself in the mirror that was, the night before, a portal to the underworld, my mind ran through the bizarre series of events. Was I actually going to get any wishes? If so, how did I go about it?