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“I don’t know what’s actually going on but I am going to deal with it”
“Oh, that might get messy”
“Madam, I don’t know why you think it’s appropriate to disrupt a meeting of the Whickber Street Traders and Shopkeepers Association”
“Dance. Not a meeting. You were dancing”
“You have no right to interfere with these people. Right, I’m calling the Emergency Services”.
“Crowley, what’s the boundary line of this place?”
“The door frame, you can’t cross it”.
Crowley barely managed to finish his sentence when a demon grabbed poor Mr. Brown by the turtleneck and hurled him through the air like a screaming javelin, until he landed in the middle of a large group of his colleagues.
“You can’t do that”.
“We just did. Civilian casualty”.
The shopkeeper found himself surrounded by creatures with grotesque and monstrous features that grabbed and pulled him, growling and screaming at each other like hyenas fighting over an antelope carcass abandoned by a lion.
There must be hundreds, thousands, at least a legion! he thought, trying to figure out what to do.
Fearless, he tried to defend himself by rolling up the newspaper and hitting all the demonic parts he could reach, until a mighty roar stopped everyone as if time had frozen.
“Stop, leave it to me, it’s mine!” The voice came from an imposing creature that towered over everyone in height. It had three heads, none of them human. The central one was deformed and had a large nose, thick and protruding eyebrows and pointed ears. On the sides it was accompanied by the head of a ram and that of a bull. The body was powerful, with a broad chest covered in thick fur, and ended in the lower part with two large bear paws. It was terrifying, with its long wings spread with thin and diaphanous skin, black and shiny like oil.
“Sir, we didn’t imagine you would come too,” stammered a small demon who seemed even smaller in his presence.
“I was bored, Hell is empty, and all the devils are here. It’s been at least twenty-eight centuries since I took a stroll on Earth.” With that he headed towards Mr. Brown who, like a goldfish, was staring at him with his mouth open. He grabbed the man by the scruff of the neck and dragged him towards the elevator between two wings of demons who, annoyed, saw their fun being taken away from under their noses.
When he reached the doors, he pushed him in with an unexpected gentleness. “Here it is, as good as new!" said the demon, setting him on his feet and shaking off some of the dust that had accumulated on his jacket with gentle pats. "The paper is a little chewed, but it is still readable.”
Poor Mr. Brown continued to stare at him in bewilderment and silence.
The beast, perplexed, did not understand the reason for that reaction. It is true that humans were no longer used to meeting demons in person, but no one had ever been paralyzed by seeing him. In fact, he usually aroused enthusiasm. He looked up and noticed his reflection in the mirror behind the man. He understood the reason for the shock: he had his original appearance and not the one he usually used to introduce himself to earthlings. He took care of remedying it with an unusually fluid gesture for such stubby hands.
In his place appeared a man with a breathtaking appearance. He seemed to be about forty years old. A seductive face, with amber skin and eyes as green as emeralds that contrasted with the dark color of his tight curls. A delicate line started from the top of his nose, perfectly proportioned, and ended in an inviting cupid's bow that outlined two splendid coral-colored lips that turned toward cherry red as you got closer to the inside. He was elegantly dressed in a wine-colored, haute couture suit with black lapels. A pure white shirt highlighted the combination of fabric with the color of his eyes and hair. A skull-shaped pin matched the black tie animated by small white skulls and a pocket square of the same fabric.
“That’s better" he exclaimed with satisfaction, admiring his reflection and, with a wave of his hand, invited Mr. Brown to exit the elevator. "We’re here, please.”
The shopkeeper, clutching his battered newspaper to his chest, crossed a large entrance hall lit by intermittent green neon lights that made the demon’s smile sparkle.
“I’m Ash, what’s your name?”
“T… Tim" he stammered, finally finding his voice. "Am I in Earth, in Heaven, or in Hell? Sleeping or waking, mad or well-advised?”
“Welcome, Tim, you’re in Hell.”
“Am I dead?!” he exclaimed, shocked.
“No, don’t worry, you’re not dead. Since everyone is out there fighting with the angels, I thought you might like to stay away from that mess. Would you like to go sightseeing?”
“Sightseeing? Is that allowed?”
“Yes, it’s something we do every now and then, at the request of the higher-ups. The last time was about 700 years ago, an Italian guy came, I don’t remember his name, I didn’t accompany him. This time there have been no instructions, I just thought it might be nice to spend a different night.”
They set off through the narrow corridors that, now empty, left them at least some space to walk.
At the end of a passage, they encountered an imposing wrought-iron gate so large that it seemed it could not fit into those poky spaces. Beyond its threshold they glimpsed a rocky and dark space with a large lake in the center, in stark contrast to the spaces - all in all modern - from which they had come. Brown approached to read the sign affixed to it.
Through me the way is to the city dolent
Through me the way is to eternal dole
Through me the way among the people lost.
Justice incited my sublime Creator
Created me divine Omnipotence
The highest Wisdom and the primal Love
Before me there were no created things
Only eterne, and I eternal last.“All hope abandon, ye who enter in!”
Some sentences were crossed out with a red brush stroke that the man hoped was paint.
“This is the entrance to the boss’s office. That sign used to be at the entrance to Hell, but after the renovation, he decided to hang it on his door. Better not disturb him, he’s not the type to socialize. Let’s go, this way,” and he pointed to another corridor.
Along the way, they came across several numbered doors. Ash opened the one with the sign XXVI. From above, a balustrade looked out onto a large space invaded by flames.
“Come, I’ll introduce you to someone" Ash said, preceding Tim and inviting him to follow him. "He’s been here a long time and has a lot of crazy stories to tell. Oy Odysseus!”
“Ash, what brings you fella over?”
“I brought a friend for a ride. This is Tim.”
“Nice to meet you. You can call me Ulysses, no one has called me Odysseus for centuries,” he said, lighting a cigarette near a flame. “Do you smoke Tim?”
“Nno… thanks,” the shopkeeper replied.
“Come, sit down" Ash said, materializing some chairs so they could sit down. "Come on, tell us about that time your friends were turned into pigs or the story of the wooden horse.”
“Same old requests, never anyone who wants to hear about my dog. All right,” he said annoyed as he prepared to begin his story.
“Are you guys having fun without me?” a female voice sounded from the top of the banister.
The three of them looked up to see who it was coming from.
“Jane!” Ash and Ulysses said in unison.
“Now we’re going to have fun. Jane Austen always has the best brandy" the demon said to Tim and adding in a low voice so as not to be heard "And her stories are even better than Ulysses' ones. You absolutely must hear about how she planned the theft of the Clerckenwell Diamond of 1810!”.
“Jane Austen?!?" asked the shopkeeper in confusion. "Is she here in Hell?”.
“Yes. From the list of her sins, poor Furfur didn’t know where to put her, and in the end they settled on the door next to this one, among the thieves.”
After much toasting and chatting, Mr. Brown was finally more relaxed. He amiably conversed, commenting amusedly on the stories that were offered to him and rambling at length on his life and his business.
“You’re a smart guy, Tim. My wife would have liked you, she loved tapestries and carpets,” said the Greek hero, giving him a big pat on the shoulder.
“We had fun, but now I’d like to continue,” commented Ash.
“Come back and visit us, it’s boring down here,” added Jane.
They said goodbye and headed back down the corridor they had left. Mr. Brown, now that he had settled in and felt more at ease, allowed himself to look more carefully at the man who was a few steps ahead of him. He was undeniably attractive, but there was something deeper that intrigued him. He had been frightened by his initial appearance, but he couldn’t deny that he had perceived a certain charm even in that form. It unleashed a sort of primal instinct in him that confused his senses, making him more relaxed and less stiff than usual.
After passing through a few more doors, they passed a woman in her sixties coming from the floor above.
“Agnes. Are you slinking around with the fortune tellers again? You know your place is together with The Violent. You should have thought of that before you filled your skirts with gunpowder and roofing nails!”
“Oh please, I’ve had to listen to Pulsifer complain for 350 years about how he shouldn’t be here with me because he was only doing the Lord’s will,” she pleaded wearily.
“Okay, I won’t tell anyone, but make sure you’re back in your place before everyone goes back to their offices.”
He explained to Mr. Brown that while Hell was perpetually understaffed, souls were not usually allowed to wander at will. He was not a fan of strict discipline, but rules are rules. For that night he would turn a blind eye. After all, they would have all eternity to serve their sentence.
Ash, with a gentle touch at the base of his back, invited Tim to go in the direction from which the witch was coming. The shopkeeper felt a slight shiver at the contact and turned to look at him, only to look away, heated by the seductive smile that the demon had given him. They climbed the stairs and reached the floor reserved for violence. The muffled notes of Jesus, Joy of Man’s Desiring from Bach’s Cantata BWV 147 spread through the air. Ash headed towards the source of the music and opened door number XII.
Tim’s attention was immediately drawn to a very intimidating-looking man. He wore armor of shiny metal plates, and his shoulders were covered in luxurious fur. His hair and beard were dark and fell to his shoulders, neatly braided and peeking out from under a leather-covered helmet. He was sitting at a small table covered in lace and was holding a white cup decorated with delicate yellow and pink flowers.
Across from him sat a man whose appearance was exactly the opposite: reassuring and friendly. He was dressed in the manner of the 19th century with a sober brown suit, a light shirt and a scarf tied around his neck.
Both turned as the demon and his guest entered and nodded.
“Tim, meet Dr. Darlymple and Attila,” Ash said, indicating the two men respectively. “As I mentioned, we have been short-staffed for some time now and have had to group murderers and suicides into the same department.”
“Mister Darlymple, I am not a doctor,” the man in the brown suit clarified, shaking his hand.
“Attila, Scourge of God, Ruler of the Huns. Pleased to make your acquaintance,” the other declared solemnly.
Ash and Darlymple exchanged an amused look, knowing how much he wanted to be known by all his titles and appellations.
“Tim Brown, from Brown’s World of Carpets,” he replied, shaking his hand vigorously.
“May I offer you a drink?" the surgeon asked."I have some excellent Scotch whisky. Attila, you?”
“No thanks, I prefer my tea. I have a sensitive stomach,” politely declined the warrior.
“We are fine too. We just left Jane, and you know she has the best brandy.”
“I won’t insist on that. Would you like to join us? We were discussing the surgical procedure used to perform cranial trepanation among the Huns. An extremely fascinating subject.”
“We have no doubt about it, but my guest and I must move on. Maybe next time.”
Tim thanked him silently with a grateful look. He had no intention of hearing about cranial trepanations.
They went up to another floor. It was particularly quiet except for a low muttering coming from one of the doors. The shopkeeper couldn’t make out the exact words, but it sounded like someone was very annoyed. Suddenly a door, number X, swung open and a man with a long white beard and a frown of disappointment appeared.
“Hey you guys, I’ve been waiting for you. They finally sent someone to listen to my requests!” he said in their direction.
The two looked at each other in confusion.
“Are you talking to us?” Ash asked.
“Yes, they didn’t send you from the upper floors?”.
“Definitely not, I’m sorry to disappoint you" the demon replied. "With whom do I have the pleasure of speaking?”.
“Charles, Charles Darwin. I was hoping you had been sent to confirm my transfer. I have been requesting it since I arrived here. There has been a misunderstanding, I have never denied the divine creation of the Earth. I even wrote it in my autobiography! Here, I will show it to you.” He strode away and returned a few moments later with a book. He leafed through it feverishly until he came to a page marked by a bent corner:
[…] the impossibility of conceiving that this grand and wondrous universe, with our conscious selves, arose through chance, seems to me the chief argument for the existence of God. In my most extreme fluctuations I have never been an Atheist in the sense of denying the existence of a God. I think that generally, but not always, that an Agnostic would be the more correct description of my state of mind.
“I understand your point but I can’t help you in any way, it’s not my department. You’ll see that sooner than you think your requests will be examined by the right people.”
The scientist let out a snort of frustration but didn’t continue his speech. He closed the book, thanked them for their attention and turned his back on them, returning to mutter in the room from which he had emerged.
“Heretics..." the demon said mockingly. "I can’t stand them, they have such fragile egos, ready to recant at the first criticism.”
Mr. Brown took the opportunity to launch into a long and boring tirade against opportunists. Ash, however, watched him with delight instead of annoyance.
The man, feeling scrutinized, asked, “Why are you staring at me, is there something wrong?”.
“I like how passionate you are,” Ash said casually, genuinely believing.
Tim, who certainly hadn’t expected a compliment, stammered an embarrassed - and at the same time pleased - “Thank you” as he absentmindedly stumbled, making the demon chuckle.
The next level was packed with people. Everyone was yelling and cursing at each other. Mr. Brown was frankly horrified by the type of language they were using and the aggressiveness with which they were lashing out at each other.
“What are all these people here for?” he asked with a disapproving grimace.
“You probably won’t believe this, but the Wrath circle has filled up exponentially over the last 35 years or so. They’re almost entirely M25 regulars.”
His disappointment faded slightly. “Oh, I do believe it. I always thought it was a demonic invention. Is that your intervention?”
“No, it’s not my sector, but the demon who invented it received a commendation for his stroke of genius.”
“I would really like to know who he is, so I can tell him what a brilliant idea he had. I’m sure I wouldn’t like him one bit.”
They reached a corridor at the end of which was an area completely different from any other they had visited so far. It looked like a city with tall, shining buildings. All around it was surrounded by lush nature with trees, plants and flowers of every kind. A stream was babbling peacefully. It seemed impossible, but there was a portion of clear sky where the sun shone brightly without a single cloud. You would have thought you were in front of the Garden of Eden.
Suddenly, the laughter of children caught Tim attention, and the shopkeeper saw a small group of them happily playing tag across a large lawn.
With a mixture of disbelief and horror, he turned to the demon, “Do children end up here too?”
The demon looked almost mortified. “Limbo was designed to house people with high moral principles who lived before the coming of Christ. But in 3004 BC, God was particularly tetchy with the humans and decided to unleash a great storm that drowned everyone"
“Everyone?” Tim asked, increasingly astonished.
“Not exactly the entire human race. Essentially the entire population of Mesopotamia came here. Apparently, They weren’t angry with the Chinese or the Native Americans or – I don’t know – the Australians. Once their souls got there, we thought it wouldn’t be a good place to keep children, so we decided to put them here. They have no idea where they are, they will live an eternal childhood".
“I can’t believe They killed the kids too.”
“It seems more like the kind of thing you’d expect from us…”
Tim’s beliefs about good and evil began to waver, and looking at this demon, genuinely sorry for what he was telling him, aroused feelings that troubled him.
Suddenly the din of an alarm echoed through the corridors. Mr. Brown, worried, asked his companion for an explanation.
“Someone has declared war on Hell" he said, frowning slightly at the interruption. "It hasn’t happened in a long time. I think things are heating up up there.”
“Are you under attack?” Tim asked, visibly worried, trying to cover his head with the newspaper.
“Not yet, we’ll see how things develop". He snapped his fingers, the noise stopped but the red lights continued to flash. "That way they won’t bother us. How about we continue? We’ve reached my department.”
The man shivered, but it wasn’t a reaction due to discomfort or fear. He was cold, the place was drafty.
“Yes, it’s an area in the middle of many air currents, it feels like being in the heart of a storm.”
They crossed a space hit by whipping winds. The shopkeeper was clutching the newspaper trying to protect himself; he could barely keep his eyes open, but he thought he could still make out some figures. They were naked and twirling inside vortices of air. Embarrassed, he looked away, albeit rather slowly.
“Sodomites" Ash explained, anticipating his curiosity. Then he opened a door and invited him to come in. "This is my office.” The room was completely different from the outside, pleasantly warm and sheltered from drafts. The atmosphere was welcoming. A soft light came from some lamps and illuminated the room where a sensual smooth jazz melody spread through. In the center there was a table set for two with flowers and candles while in a corner there was a luxurious black leather sofa.
The demon pulled out the chair gallantly to invite Mr. Brown to sit down, took a bottle of champagne that was chilled in a bucket with ice and poured a glass for him. “Would you like a toast, Tim?”
“What shall we toast to?”
“Let’s toast to pleasant company”
And they clinked their glasses.
“Ash" the man said a little hesitantly "this all sounds almost like a date.”
“Would that be a problem?” the demon replied, flashing a seductive smile.
“Oh!" he exclaimed in surprise. "No, I don’t think so.” Not many men had asked him out on a date, and he was quite flattered by that.
“Good" the demon added, satisfied. "How about dining?” There was a sumptuous meal on the table, with several courses and an inebriating aroma.
He took an oyster and brought it to Mr. Brown’s mouth to let him taste it, then took another and brought it to his lips, letting his tongue slip out just enough to grab it without ever looking away. Tim visibly swallowed and began to feel a certain warmth.
The demon reached out to cover his hand. The shopkeeper flinched slightly but didn’t pull away, letting the other gently caress the back of his hand with his thumb.
He pulled away just long enough to serve him a portion of rare fillet steak. “Try it with this. It’s a fig and honey sauce, you’ll like it,” he said as he poured some over the meat. Tim took a bite and closed his eyes as the sweet flavor hit his tongue, letting out a sigh of appreciation. He began to digress on the proper way to cook meat when he was interrupted.
“You have some sauce" he saw the demon’s hand move to his face and wipe a drop from his lip with a finger, then lick it. "There you go, all set.” Instinctively he ran his tongue over the spot where he had felt the touch.
“Would you like some chocolate strawberries, or would you rather go and relax on the couch for a bit?” he asked, casting a meaningful glance to the corner of the room”.
“I think I’d like to go on the couch”.
“Excellent" Ash commented, refilling the glasses of champagne and guiding him. "Come in.”
He offered the man a glass and sat down very casually with his legs crossed and an arm stretched out on the back of the chair.
“So, how did you find this night?”.
“Pleasant, I had fun,” he replied, clearing his throat a bit and widening the neck of his turtleneck with his finger.
“I’m glad. You know..." he added "... you caught my attention while you were holding off all those demons all by yourself.” He leaned his torso slightly in his direction. Tim was overwhelmed by his scent. He smelled salty, like the sea after a storm. A shiver ran down his spine, he felt inebriated.
Ash leaned in closer and gently touched his cheek with fingertips. “Tonight just confirmed that I wasn’t wrong. You’re a very charming man.”
Mr Brown could feel the demon's warm breath mingling with his. His head was spinning a little.
“You also smell good, Tim, you don’t even smell like fish. I’d love to kiss you.”
The man let out a very faint “What does that mean?” in response. He didn’t know what the fish had to do with it, but he wasn’t really interested in finding out.
He got lost in those green eyes that pierced him. He saw them getting closer and closer. A wave of heat was released in his chest. The smell of salt was getting stronger and stronger. He placed a hand on the demon's arm, closed his eyes and...
"Where do you come from?" asked Mutt, the owner of the magic shop, in line before him in front of the Give me coffee or give me death.
Tim looked around, glanced at his chewed newspaper. How did I get here? I remember that I was about to call the emergency services then I was surrounded, and... everything was dark until that precise moment. Someone must have hit me on the head, I don't remember anything at all the whole night.
"I don't remember" he answered honestly.
“Good call - said Mutt - Never tell them how it’s done unless they pay you for it first.”
Mr. Brown was still confused. A strong smell of salt filled the air. He looked around to find the source - London was miles from the sea - but he couldn’t figure it out.
“Here, pick a card,” said the magician, bringing him back from his thoughts.
***
Ash was inches from the man's lips, he could already taste the tickle of his moustache when suddenly he disappeared. He felt a miracle, a demon had dematerialized him. He probably had returned to Earth.
He was furious, he felt the blood pounding in his temples. He regained his original appearance.
There was a knock on his office door "Come in!" he growled. It was Eric.
“Asmodeus, Your Disgrace, I have been sent to update you. During the battle at the bookshop, we were mostly discorporated but were managing to take over the place, when that angel did the thing with the halo and declared war on Hell.”
“He blew up his halo?” he asked in surprise. “He has guts for a principality.”
Maybe I’m starting to understand why Crowley likes him so much he added to himself.
“I said that some angels are dangerous bastards" Eric commented. "Their Highness Grand Duke Beelzebub have just ascended to Earth with the council.”
“Is that all?” Asmodeus asked.
“Yes, sir,” the other demon confirmed, nodded respectfully and turned to leave.
Ash stood up, his gaze falling on the flute Tim had been drinking from. Now that they were on the brink of war, he would never be able to go to Earth to look for him. He wanted to know who the demon who had dematerialized Tim was. He would get him back.
“Eric!” called.
The demon turned “Yes?”
Asmodeus struck and incinerated him in a blaze.
He had to vent his anger somehow.
The End
Notes:
The story is vaguely inspired by Dante's Divine Comedy.
Divine Comedy chrome-extension://efaidnbmnnnibpcajpcglclefindmkaj/https://wyomingcatholic.edu/wp-content/uploads/dante-01-inferno.pdf
"Hell is empty and all the devils are here" is from William Shakespeare's play, The Tempest
The physical description of Asmodeus is loosely based on Collin de Plancy's Infernal Dictionary
"Am I in earth, in heaven, or in hell? Sleeping or waking? Mad or well-advised?" is from Shakespeare's The Comedy of Errors
In Bible it is said, in the Book of Tobit (Tobit 3-6), set in the 7th/8th century BC, that Asmodeus, the demon of lust, came to Earth. He prevented Sarah from procreating by continually killing her husbands. Then the Archangel Raphael was sent to Tobias, the seventh candidate, to free him from the demon. The angel advised him to open a fish and burn its entrails so that their fumes would exorcise the demon from Sarah.
For about ninety years, everyone in Hell has known that Crowley and Aziraphale are an item, only they do not know it.
Warning: No people were harmed in the making of this story, except Eric.