Just something short I put together for a class on Hell narratives, its not polished or really much good now that I re-read it, but I had fun writing it, and I'm experimenting with pictures...so what the hell, here it is.
Samuel F’s blood bubbled as he stormed out to meet the night sky, and the steam it gave off rose to his sinus cavities, fogging up the lenses of his eyes. He hoped the cool air would help disperse the fumes and allow him to see again.
It had just rained, and the street light’s rippled spumes hovered both above and below him, confining him to the void between. He stumbled through the asphalt’s pockets of liquid tar, mile after mile, his sweat joining the drops on the ground, changing the water from fresh to salt. The streets were deserted, or if they weren’t, he paid no attention.
It was Samuel’s time now. “No more bending around, no more being nice,” he thought. He would spit in their faces, and kick their insides until they came pouring from their mouths. It made him smile to think about the pain they’d feel. Justice, finally. They’d beg him at his feet, and he’d smash their pathetic noses in. But he couldn’t do it on his own. He knew himself well enough for that. Once he got home, someone would say, Samuel, can you go get me a can of pop from the fridge, and off he would go, as always, without a complaint. No. He wanted to stop caring. He wasn’t a little kid anymore, he was a man. Old enough to be out of college, old enough to do anything he pleased.
The lights flickered and a shadow darted past his peripherals. He stopped cold in a puddle.
A second, and then a third, each larger than the rest, scurried behind him. Samuel’s mind returned to the world around him. The buildings seemed to fade as if large sheets of fog had come in front of them; they separated him from the world with rice paper screens. The figures kept swarming. They came in waves, competing with the bursts of the storm: larger each time, surrounding him, claws and mounds of mangy hair hanging off their protruding bones. They danced in circles in the rain, and as the drops hit their bodies, they burst into liquid flames while they cackled against yellow teeth. Against his will he felt fear. The darkness drew closer, blocking the streetlights from reaching his flesh.
“What do you want?” he yelled.
The beasts smiled pointedly, and gnashed their hands together. They were gargantuan.
The largest creature began to shrink and become almost human like, and as it minimized itself, the being’s voice shifted up three octaves to what might be considered a baritone register if there was anything human about it. “You seem troubled son,” it bellowed. The hairy mangled flesh became an expensive woolen suit, and the face grew pale and smooth. As he shifted into human form, he edged closer to Samuel, cornering him against the cement wall of an empty parking garage.
As Samuel brought his hand up to his face to pinch himself in disbelief, the man laughed, and the creatures behind him joined in. A sort of mini chorus croaking out of tune.
“No need to pinch yourself Sam, I can leave if you’d like.”
Somehow this offer made him simultaneously more anxious and at ease. He ventured to speak to it. “Who are you?” His voice cracked, “How do you know who I am?”
The man put his arm around the young man, and an electric shiver went down his spine.
“I know everything about you.”
The creatures laughed as Samuel squirmed.
“Come, let’s take a walk and talk about what’s bothering you, son.”
“Son?” Sam winced.
“Why of course,” the man smiled. His teeth had not yet whitened, and even the brown, yellow hue they gave off, reeked.
Sam was confused and cold. His body was beginning to go numb at the points the man was touching it. He wanted to escape but his grip was like stone. He could only follow where he was led.
“I’ve been ignored and mistreated too,” the man said, “I know how you feel.”
“Oh yeah?” Samuel mumbled , “how’s that?”
“Used, misunderstood, and under-appreciated” the man said back like honey. “That about sums it up, doesn’t it boy?”
The cold feeling he had sensed under the man’s arm began to thaw.
“You’re better than all this, Samuel. You’re destined to be a great man.”
“Yes,” chimed the slimy backup singers, “a great, great man.”
“You don’t have to cater to everyone else’s desires before your own. You’re supposed to have time for yourself like everyone else does. You weren’t born to be some kind of servant. Look at your grades, your intellect, your job performance. You should be working in a successful company. A CEO even.”
“A rich powerful man,” the minions cried in several tones at once. They circled around him, tousling his hair, grabbing at his legs, petting his hands and arms.
Sam liked the sound of that, even though the banter was egregiously out of tune. Harmony was over-rated anyway.
“Alright that’s enough crooning,” the man boomed.
The creatures’ mouths scrunched up like coin purses on a drawstring, and they withdrew to grovel at the charming man’s feet.
“How do you feel about a place of your own?”
The man snapped his fingers, and a gorgeous condo appeared before them. He waved his arm, and they were in the giant, glass-walled vestibule. The man smiled at the receptionist, and she motioned for them to head up the elevator. Ironically, Samuel felt more surprised by the fact that the receptionist would let the horrifying looking minions in, than by the magical appearance of this edifice, and he looked backwards to see if they were still groveling at the man’s calves. But instead of the hideous creatures that had cornered him in the street, there was a gorgeous sultry brunette. She smiled and slipped her arm into the corner of his as they walked through the lobby behind the man, to the elevator.
It eased to a stop on the top floor, and the doors opened on the apartment of Sam’s dreams. It was classy and refined, modern, sleek, and every other positive adjective Sam could think of.
“Go on son, take a look around.”
The windows framed Lake Michigan in the bedroom, and the rest of the city in the living room and kitchen. A seventy-eight inch flat screen monitor hugged one of the walls, and a fire place warmed the corner by the couch. Pictures of him with the brunette were placed in choice locations. He felt extremely hungry all of a sudden, and asked if he could maybe have a snack. The fridge was stocked with the best ingredients to be found in the city, many dishes already prepared and sitting in tupperware, begging to be microwaved. The man smiled and gestured with two fingers to take whatever he wished. Sam grabbed a TV dinner and crammed it into the oven’s vertically hinged mouth. He sunk into the couch with his steaming cardboard platter, and the brunette took off her heels and curled up next to him.
The man walked behind the island in the kitchen and poured himself a scotch. “Does it meet your expectations?”
“It’s beautiful” Sam said, looking at the room, his food, and then the woman. “Everything I’ve ever dreamed of.”
“That’s good to hear,” he said. “I’ll have to tell the new dream design specialists that you approve of their work.”
Samuel scrunched his eyebrows.
The brunette whispered in his ear, “They’re the ones that physicalize the dreams of potential clients.”
The man shook his head, “We had a couple mix ups a few years back, and it cost us several clients because the designs weren’t anything like what they had in mind.”
Sam grinned, “No worries, sir, you got mine spot on.” He put his feet up on the leather ottoman and kissed the brunette on the cheek, not caring what she had been mere minutes before. “I could definitely get used to this.”
“I bet you could,” the brunette smiled.
“What do I do for a living?” he asked.
“We’ll talk about that in a minute,” the man assured him. “Enjoy yourself a minute before we talk business.”
“The job is part of the bargain then?”
“Well naturally there’s a small catch,” the man clinked the ice cubes around in the glass tumbler. “Scotch?”
“What do I have to do? Sign my name in blood?” Samuel chortled.
“Oh don’t be silly, son, that went out of style ages ago.” He brought the bottle and two glasses over to the couch.
“Well if you’re so keen on knowing, we can talk details now.”
The brunette slipped her feet back into her stilettos, poured herself a glass and sauntered to the windows.
“So here’s the deal sport. I just had a couple of government positions open up. I had some really dedicated folks in there, but their time came up, so I need some new blood (pun intended of course). It’s clerical work, fairly simple, all you have to do is approve memos and bills. You only have to go into work for meetings every three months or so, and do scripted public relations hearings. You’ll get a good pension, live a more than comfortable life, with a beautiful woman; you can travel the world, scuba dive, drive three fancy cars, and you never have to think about or see your family, boss, or coworkers again.”
Samuel squinted, “These must be pretty important memos.”
“They’re really nothing serious, mostly budgetary in nature.”
“What if I don’t know anything about what I’m signing?” Sam took an ice cube in his mouth and clicked it against his teeth.
“Its politics son, nobody does.”
Sam laughed and the melting cube gurgled. He moved it into his cheek. “Why does someone like you care about balancing budgets?”
“Come now, my reasoning is of no concern to you Samuel.” The man stood up and walked behind the couch. “You worry too much about what other people think. It’s time to worry about yourself now, son. What is best for Sam?” He finished the rest of the scotch, grimaced, and clinked the glass down on the counter. “That is why you called me, isn’t it?”
Samuel wiped the condensation ring from the table and put the glass back down. “What happens if I don’t sign one of these bills?”
The man’s face darkened for the first time since his shape shifting extravaganza. “Once you agree to the terms of the contract, you are bound to uphold your end of the bargain young man. That’s how a contract works. You don’t do your end, I don’t do mine, and I exact interest.”
The young man was taken aback at the sudden change in tone, “Interest?”
The man returned to his handsome self. “Well naturally, my boy! If I didn’t enforce any consequences, everyone would go defaulting on their agreements willy nilly, and I can’t have that.” He returned the scotch to its place under the countertop. “You’re a bright lad, I’m sure you understand.”
Samuel looked down at his food, and then up again at the man. “Do I have to make a decision right away?”
“I get it,” The man smiled. His teeth were suddenly brilliantly white. “This is one of those life changing decisions you humans talk about where you like to take your time and weigh your options,” The man grabbed his coat and slung it over his left shoulder. “Why don’t you sleep on it tonight, and I’ll be back in the morning for your verdict.”
Samuel looked up to answer, only to see the metamorphysing man disappear into the dark chasm of the elevator. As soon as the silver doors clasped each other, the entire condo disappeared: faded into the whisper of a dream, and Samuel found himself sitting on the curb in front of the abandoned parking garage.
The rain hadn’t stopped, and his clothes shivered and clung to his sinews for support. The alley was still deserted, and the only life forms were the squirming creatures in the alleyway. He poured his head into his hands and let the thoughts run through his fingers with the drips from his hair.
The deal was flawless, he thought. He tried to come up with some negatives, but somehow, he couldn’t wring out a single one. Sure, the job would probably be boring, but it was prestigious, he could be on the news, and if he didn’t end up enjoying it, he really never had to go into work. This was the chance of a life time. He would be stupid to turn down a beautiful girlfriend, a great position and the chance to live the life of his dreams. The man was right, it was time to think of himself for once.
He felt a line of pain pop the back of his head.
“Fine print kid, it’s all about the fine print.”
The brunette lowered her hand from his scalp, but he could still feel her bright red nails between the hairs. He hadn’t realized she was still there.
He yelped in pain. “What’s your problem?”
“You’re nauseous. Go vomit.”
“I’m sorry?” Samuel’s eyes bulged. This woman was crazier than he thought.
Her eyes turned icy, “Just do it.”
His stomach began to churn, and his mouth filled with acid. He collapsed onto his elbow, and the brunette watched as he emptied his entrails into the gleaming cage of the sewer.
“Don’t you know anything about bargaining with the lord of the underworld, you moron?”
His face was blank.
“Really? You have never read Greek mythology? Persephone? Pomegranate seeds? Unwitting condemnation to seasonal damnation? No?” She leaned against the doorframe in surprise. “Well here’s a crash course dummy: you can’t eat anything you’re offered by the devil.”
Sam wiped his mouth on the edge of his sleeve. “And what are you? Some kind of good angel sent to make me reconsider?”
“No genius. I’m a collection of fiends with a bedroom voice caught in a box of curves,” the brunette said.
“Look,” Samuel stood up “the whole reason I’m in this situation is because I’m tired of getting mistreated, and I’m not about to put up with the attitude of some mutant reprobate.” He pulled himself up off the pavement and stormed past her. “How do I get back to the condo?”
The brunette hooted. “You think you’re mistreated now? Try being held down to drown in a puddle of your own spit, revived, and then submerged again. Or being cattle prodded by thousands of rotting embryos inside you. Or perhaps you would prefer to re-live the moment of the death of your best friend in a gruesome accident that was entirely your fault, over and over until the very end of time?”
Samuel rolled his eyes. “I know your game, you’re just trying to scare me into being a nice person by throwing visions of hell in my face. I’m not that naïve. I don’t believe in an afterlife, and if I did, I’d be going to hell anyway for impure thoughts or some nonsense.”
“Believe me, I could care less if you are eternally cannibalized by worm-like versions of your family. If that sounds like a party to you, that’s your decision, but you at least need to understand what you’re getting yourself into.”
“The way I see it, I’m better off having a good time while I’m here, instead of suffering and then figuring out that I’m damned anyway for some tiny offense I didn’t think to repent over.” He circled the block, vainly looking for the building. “Why are you telling me this?” he shouted over his shoulder.
The brunette strutted dryly behind him; each drop evaporating before it hit her. “Clearly we’d all rather risk another thousand years of horizontally pirouetting over boiling excrement for breaking protocol rather than be tied to you for the next fifty years.”
“What, so fiends have standards too now? You’re not even human, and you think you’re better than me?”
“I’m just trying to do you a favor. This conversation won’t impact your pathetic relationship if that’s what you want. I’ll keep my end of your little bargain, and you’ll have a nauseously perfect family, if that’s what you want. But keep in mind that once you take those keys and start signing those contracts to cut funding in schools and hospitals, you can’t go and change your mind. You change it, poof, everything is gone, and you head straight to the worms and fire show.”
“Thanks for your concern,” Samuel retorted, “but if you want to help me, you’ll shut up, give me a kiss and show me the door.”
The traffic began to pick up instantaneously, and cars filled the water slicked roads. The reflections sent the wheels down into the depths of the earth, and instead of rolling on asphalt, the headlights and wheels appeared as long spindled legs skidding across a subterranean lake. The brunette kissed him, and the doors appeared.
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