Magen Lewis...Go to hell

Magen Lewis...Go to hell Magen Lewis...Go to hell

Status: Finished

Genre: Horror


Status: Finished

Genre: Horror


This is the story of Megan Lewis. A short tempered, foul mouthed woman who hates everyone and everyone hates her. Megan takes pleasure in telling people to go to hell, she is about to find out that when you give directions, sometimes people follow them. When you finish this tale think twice before you tell someone to go to hell...I think there's a newly vacant position available;}


This is the story of Megan Lewis. A short tempered, foul mouthed woman who hates everyone and everyone hates her. Megan takes pleasure in telling people to go to hell, she is about to find out that when you give directions, sometimes people follow them. When you finish this tale think twice before you tell someone to go to hell...I think there's a newly vacant position available;}


Submitted: September 19, 2011

A A A | A A A


Submitted: September 19, 2011





With the backdrop of gray, angry-looking clouds and intermittent drizzle with snowflakes falling; Megan “don’t call me Meg” Lewis looks up and curses the snow and gusting winds.

The winds periodically batter Megan’s five foot five inch, one hundred and twenty pound body, causing her shoulder-length badly permed blond curls to fly up into her face and mouth. Despite the bad hair, Megan has a perfect shape and is as graceful as a dancer when she walks; Men on the street constantly heap compliments or lewd invitations on her to which she responses with her signature expression, “Go to hell.” At a time like this she wished she hadn’t told her former boss that, because he fired her, she took consolation in the fact that “the old leach”, as she called him died shortly afterward.

Crossing Thirty-fourth Street and Eighth Avenue, Megan plods toward the diner on the corner of Eighth Avenue. As she approaches the door, a handsome men step up and instinctively opens the door for her, he is the doorman from the hotel next door to the diner. “Allow me, beautiful.” The man says smoothly while flashing an expensive, capped smile. “Go to hell.” She walks around the corner to the other entrance door.

As the door closes behind her, Megan hears something familiar, something she hears a lot. “Bitch!” The handsome man yells as he walks past the large row of picture windows that line both sides of the diner, while giving her the finger. “Asshole.” Megan mutters to herself as she takes off her coat and slides into her usual booth, at the same time she glares at a young waiter who is leaning against an ornate pillar with four menus under his arm. “Good morning Meg, you look hot as ever.” Megan bows and shakes her head. “Two things Johnny; that line didn’t even work on me in high school and don’t call me Meg.” Johnny puts a menu oh her table and pours her a glass of oranges juice. “But you gotta admit I did make you smile back then, Meg.”

From the back of the diner one of her only three friends calls out, “Good morning miss Megan, do you want me to whip up your favorite omelet?” Tony Armini stands by the kitchen door holding up two eggs. “Maybe later Tony, I’m meeting someone about a job.” Tony gives her a thumbs up. “Good luck.” Johnny puts a large cup of coffee on her table with three sugar packets. “Meg, you only need one packet because you’re so sweet.” Johnny flashes a crooked smile. “Johnny, I’ve been here all of fifteen minutes and besides calling me Meg…which I hate, you’ve used some of the lamest pickup lines ever made.”

Before Johnny can answer, his attention is drawn to flashing lights and sirens outside the diner. Running to the window with all the excitement of a child on Christmas morning, he squeals. “Whoa, somebody got run over by a bus.” Megan sips her coffee and looks up. “Tourists.” She adds sarcastically. “Is it anybody we know?” “Holy shit, it looks like caps, it’s kinda hard to tell with him all twisted up the way he is.” Tony walks out of the kitchen wiping his hands on his apron. “Who’d you say it was?” Johnny walks away from the window and points in the direction of the hotel next door. “The door man from the hotel with the capped teeth.” Tony crosses himself and shakes his head. “Rest in peace.”

Johnny runs over to Megan. “Didn’t he flip you off a little while ago?” “Yeah, so?” “It looks like he took your advice.” “What are you talking about Johnny?” Megan asks impatiently. “You did tell him to go to hell didn’t you.” Megan laughs out loud. “That’s a good one.” She looks at her watch then motion at Tony, “On second thought I’ll have that omelet.”

Johnny goes back to the window and watches as the police push the crowd back while trying not to step in the mixture of rain and blood that runs from the badly broken body of caps. Johnny looks at Megan with curiosity; her demeanor has changed, she’s smiling and joking with someone on her cell phone. He goes to her table and sits down. “What gives Meg?” Megan closes her cell phone. “What?” “Thirty minutes ago you walked in here looking like the world kicked you in the ass, with both feet, now you’re smiling and laughing since caps got run over.” Megan frowns and purses her lips. “Caps as you call him was an asshole, I’m not shedding tears for an asshole. The cosmic scales are balancing with one less asshole for me to deal with.” Johnny shakes his head. “I know caps could be dicks sometimes.” Megan cuts her eyes at the window. “Not anymore.”

Tony clears his throat, causing Johnny to jump up. “Your omelet miss Megan, enjoy.” Tony motions with his head at a couple that just walked in. “Sorry Tony.” Johnny picks up menus from the waiters station and rushes to serve the couple; not lost on him is the fact that for the first time in ten years Megan didn’t tell him not to call her Meg.

As Johnny schmoozes the couple, in walks a handsome man about six foot six with curly black hair and a bronze complexion, indigenous to the Mediterranean; his most striking feature is his eyes, they are dark and intense to the point of being hypnotic. He closely resembles a young Frank Langella.

The man walks over to Megan’s booth and tosses his cashmere over coat across the back of the seat. Megan looks up with a cocked eyebrow. “Excuse you, I’m expecting someone.” The man glides into the booth and flashes a perfect, dazzling smile. “I know miss Lewis, I’m Louis Cypher.” Megan drops her fork and fumbles with a napkin. “I’m sorry Mr. Cypher.” Louis puts his hand up “No, no; eat, I know I’m a little late, in fact I think I’ll join you if you don’t mind.” Megan smiles and blushes warm enough to heat up the whole diner. “My limo couldn’t get onto the block because of the accident outside,” Louis says while looking at Megan’s plate, then the menu. “Oh, you won’t find this on the menu, Tony makes it up special for me; would you like one?”

Louis puts down the menu, looks at her plate and flashes his killer smile. “If it’s specially made for you then I would be honored to try it.” Megan giggles like a schoolgirl. “I have to warn you, the secret ingredients are roasted red and green jalapeno peppers with a generous sprinkling of cayenne pepper on top.” Louis smiles. “I love spicy things.” Megan motions to Tony who is standing by the kitchen door to make another omelet; maybe it was the smile or the French accent, possibly his hypnotic eyes; but Megan thought to herself that “This is the most beautiful man she’d ever seen.”

“Megan; if I may call you that?” “You can call me what ever you like.” Megan catches herself. “I mean it’s not a problem Mr. Cypher.” Louis nods. “You are just the person I need to fill a recently vacated position.” Megan fumbles with her briefcase, trying to get her résumé out. “I’ve got experience as a receptionist, file clerk and data entry secretary.” She puts the résumé down in front of him. “As well as a personal assistant.” Louis pushes the résumé back to her. “The job is yours if you want it.”

Tony comes out of the kitchen a few minutes later and puts a plate down in front of Louis. “Megan special, enjoy.” “Thank you, it looks as appetizing as the woman it’s named after.” Louis says smoothly while picking up his fork. Johnny comes over with the orange juice pitcher. “Would you like coffee or oj, sir?” “Thank you Johnny, orange juice will do just fine.” Johnny steps back, momentarily shocked. “How did you know my name? Have we met?” Megan sucks her teeth and cocks her head to the side; she motions across her chest with her finger, the same area where his nametag is located on his uniform. “Oh; sorry. I’ll leave you two to your breakfast.” He quickly pours the juice then walks away. Neither Megan nor Johnny realizes that Louis wasn’t looking at him or his nametag.

Megan cuts her eyes at Johnny, who is standing behind Louis, giving her a thumbs-up sign and making kissing motions. “Johnny, go to hell.” Louis closes his eyes, and then puts his fork down. Megan puts up both hands. “I’m so sorry, I hope I haven’t offended you but Johnny was being an ass, as usual.” Louis brushes off her apology with a backhand gesture and a smile. “No, no I was just savoring these delicious eggs.” Megan smiles broadly. “Thank you.” Louis looks at the side window and sips his juice. “Did you see the accident outside?” Megan shakes her head. “ No, but I knew him, pardon my French, he was an asshole, so I won’t shed any tears; I hope that doesn’t make me sound like a bad person?” “No, actually you sound like the person I need.”

Megan sips her coffee. “What position are we talking about? Your ad said personal assistant.” Louis downs the last of his juice and gives her a look that would have chilled the heart of anyone else, except Megan. “Let me tell you about myself, then we’ll talk about the job.” Megan sits back in the seat lusting for Louis in her heart. “Please, enlighten me, just don’t tell me you’re married..Hee, hee.” Louis gives her a very sinister smile. “I’m very rich, very handsome and very unattached.” “Sounds good so far.” Megan chirps. “I’m the devil.” “An investment banker.” Megan says to herself smiling. “What I need is an assistant of sorts.”

The sound of dishes crashing in the kitchen startles everyone in the diner except Louis. “Johnny!” Tony yells frantically. “Someone call 911.” Megan rushes into the kitchen and sees Johnny lying on the floor with a large knife sticking out of his side and blood pumping profusely from the wound. “Damn, it sucks to be you right now.” Megan mutters under her breath. On the phone a waitress frantically explains the event to a 911 operator while Tony sobs and holds a blood soaked towel over the knife and wound. “I tell him be careful, watch the knives on the rack.” Megan rubs Tony’s shoulders sympathetically, but has a “How do I get the hell out of here “, look on her face. “Don’t blame yourself Tony, you know Johnny was kinda clumsy.”

Louis clears his throat and motions for Megan, when she comes to the doorway of the kitchen; he is putting on his coat. “Here’s my card, I’ll expect you tomorrow at eight o’clock.” Megan takes the card and smile slyly. “Is it the 666 building?” Louis smiles. “Close; 664 Lexington Avenue.”

As Louis walks out of the diner, paramedics rush in. “Over here, this way.” A Waitress frantically calls to them. Megan calmly waves at Tony who stands in the kitchen doorway covered in blood and sobbing uncontrollably. “Dumb-ass Johnny; he would find a knife to fall on…Idiot.” Megan mutters as she leaves the diner.

Outside, the street bustles with activity; around the corner, police finish taking statements from the distraught bus driver and a few passers by who witnessed the accident. Two police officers push past Megan to get into the diner, she turns and glares at the younger of the two who stops just inside the doorway, turns and motions for her to come back into the diner. Megan taps her chest and shakes her head no; the cop rushes outside. “Excuse me miss, can I have a moment?” Megan stops abruptly and turns to face the cop. “Yes?” “Were you inside when the incident occurred?” Megan taps her foot impatiently. “Yes I was, but I didn’t see or hear anything.” The cop takes out his pad. “Could you please come back inside and give us a statement?” Megan cocks her head to the side and grits her teeth. “What part of “didn’t see anything or hear anything”, don’t you understand?”

The cop puts his pad back into pocket and takes out his walkie-talkie. “What? Now you’re going to arrest me? Big man.” The cop points his finger at her. “Who do you think you’re talking to?” Before Megan can respond, the other cop taps on the diner window and gives him the brush off signal to let her go.” “You can go miss, I’m sorry to take up your time.” Megan’s eyes narrow and her jaw tightens. “I told you before I didn’t know anything, but you got a badge and a gun so you’re gonna be mister big man.” The cop looks at her, perplexed by her attitude. “I apologized and said you can go miss, what’s your fucken problem?” Megan steps back, flabbergasted. “What’s your name and badge number?” The cop steps up to her and motions between his badge and nametag with his finger. “Right here baby.”

Megan writes his name and badge number on a slip of paper. “I hope you have a lousy day miss.” “Go to hell.” Megan hisses. The cop shakes his head and walks into the diner. “Officer Reyes.” Megan says to herself. “We’ll see how big you are after I complain about your rude ass.” She takes out her cell phone to call the midtown south precinct. Before she can dial, the phone rings.

“Hello.” A familiar male voice comes back on the other end. “Hi Megan, it’s Felix.” Felix is the second of Megan’s 3 friends; being gay may contribute to why he got along with her. He wasn’t trying to screw so she and Felix got along great; also, they we’re both victims of childhood sexual abuse, abuse which fueled her go-to-hell catch phrase, as it was what her father would say to her after he finished sexually abusing her. “We’re going to the club tonight, do you want to come with?” “I can’t, I’ve got a job interview early tomorrow.” “Look at you miss Megan, after four months I just know you’re ready to get back on that horse.” Megan smiles. “You know it girlfriend.” “Okay miss Megan, you can give me details over lunch…Kisses.”

Megan crosses Eighth Avenue and walks down thirty Third Street toward a small clothes store owned by her third friend. She hated this block because it was filled with, as she put it, a lethal combination of people who didn’t speak English and various Neanderthals who just wanted to screw her. She felt they should all go to hell but didn’t have the time to tell them individually. A short chubby woman wearing a black mini dress, black studded dog collar, black lipstick with black eye shadow and matching nail polish, comes out of the clothes store. She motions to the ups driver across the street, a passing man stops and stares at her, it wasn’t the clothes or makeup, it was the fact that she had a bald head and the words “go fuck yourself” tattooed on the back of her scalp. “WHAT? Can’t you follow instructions?” The woman screams at the now startled man.

Megan smiles as she and the woman make eye contact. “Chloe.” They rush together and hug. “Get a room!” A Latin looking man in a red flannel jacket yells from a fifth floor window he’s cleaning. “Aw go to hell!” Megan yells back. “Come inside Megan while I get some dress ready to ship out.” They go inside the store. “I need something special for a job interview tomorrow.” Chloe steps back and looks at her. “What kind of job are we talking about?” Megan looks around the store. “I don’t know yet.” “You don’t know what kind of job you’re interviewing for?” Megan uncharacteristically gushes. “Actually, I have the job but Mr. Cypher wants to see me tomorrow.” Chloe feels her head with the back of her hand. “Are you feeling okay?” Megan laughs and brushes her hand away. “What? I’ve been offered a job by the most beautiful man I’ve ever seen in my life.”

Between the schoolgirl banter, they fail to see a water bucket hit the ground across the street, followed by a young man in a bright red flannel jacket. “This is so unlike you Megan, but I’m happy you’re finally getting back to work.” Megan points at a black pants suit with a matching black silk blouse. Chloe’s eyes narrow and she cocks her head to the side. “Jet black works for me, but a job interview, who will you be working for, a funeral home?” Chloe laughs. Megan answers casually. “He said he was the devil, but I think he’s an investment banker.”

The ups driver comes into the dress shop. “So, you finally decided to do your job.” Chloe says sarcastically. “I’m so sorry.” The driver responds equally sarcastic. “But, I was trying to help the dieing man across the street.” “What?” Chloe goes to the door and sees a crowd gathering across the street. “What happened?” The driver shrugs his shoulders. “I guess he lost his footing while trying to clean the window and slipped.” “Fucken idiot, it’s snowing and raining outside, what the hell is he doing cleaning windows?” Megan as a matter-of-factly adds. “Hell if I know, but he was still a human being.” The driver says while putting three boxes on a hand truck; Megan shrugs her shoulders. “Not anymore.” Chloe signs the driver’s receipt book and he leaves with the boxes, but not before pointing over his shoulder at Megan and making cuckoo sign with finger against his head.

“Do you have that pantsuit in my size?” Megan asks while trying on a silver bracelet. “I think so, tell me more about this mysterious investment banker who calls himself the devil.” “I don’t know much, other than the fact that he’s the most good-looking man in the world.” Chloe touches Megan’s forehead again. “Are you sure you’re okay? I’ve never heard you talk about a man like this before.” Megan smiles. “I’ve never met a man like him before.” Chloe goes into the back of the store and returns shortly with her pantsuit and blouse in a garment bag. “You can pay me when you get your second check or when ever.” Chloe and Megan hug. “You’re the best Chlo.” “Call me when you finish your interview, I want the dirt on the devil, oh yeah, try to get a picture, I have to see the most beautiful man in the world.” Megan smiles brightly. “You’ll get an earful and a picture.”

After a short ride on the subway and a long walkup, Megan settles in front of her television set with her last remaining friends, Ben and Jerry. Flipping through the channels she stops on the five o’clock news. “Let’s see what the rest of the losers are doing tonight.” Megan says to herself between spoonfuls of Chunky Monkey. “We have a breaking story for you.” The news anchor says off camera, on the screen a news helicopter shows footage of midtown Manhattan with police cars and ambulances blocking both ends of Forty Third Street. “Details are sketchy, but what we know at this moment is that rookie police officer David Reyes was shot and killed while trying to stop a holdup at Stienman Jewelers. Witnesses say the officers gun jammed during a fierce gun battle with three suspects his partner was wounded but is expected to make a full recovery, the suspects were killed, we’ll keep you informed as this story develops.”

“I wonder if this idiot is related to the idiot that was hassling me?” Before Megan can continue her rant, the door bell rings. “Now what?” Megan stomps to the door and flings it open. The sight of Louis Cypher standing in her doorway dressed in a Hugo Boss tuxedo was almost more than she could take. “Mr. Cypher, sorry. Please come in.” Louis flashes his killer smile. “Turns out I won’t be in the office tomorrow, some of my employees in California are behaving and I have to straighten them out, so I figured we should talk this evening.”

Megan leads Louis into the living room and he sits down. “I hope I’m not keeping you from anything.” Megan is dashing around the room removing various items from the encampment around the television set. “No, I was just watching TV; you look like you’re hanging out tonight.” Louis dusts off his lapel and smiles. “Nothing like that, I have a couple of meetings to go to the suit makes the right statement.” Megan sits down next to Louis on the sofa. “What’s on your mind boss?” Louis gets up and stands in front of her. “First off, I am as I told you in the diner…the devil, not an investment banker.” “How did you? Wait a minute.” Megan’s eyes narrow and she crosses her arms. “The devil; since when does the devil wear a tailor made Hugo Boss tuxedo?” Louis laughs. “Times have changed, I get a better reception dressed like this, than like this.” He snaps his finger and in a flash of light he transforms into what you’ve been taught the devil looks like, complete with horns, hooves, pitchfork and red Speedo.

Megan gasps and inches to the other end of the sofa; Louis snaps his finger and becomes the suave, debonair Louis Cypher again. “Don’t be afraid, I’m not here to harm you.” Megan puts her hand on her chest, trying to keep her heart from bursting out. “wwwhat the hell do you want from me?” “It’s like I told you, I want you to work for me.” Megan’s hand trembles as she pours rum into an Atlantic city shot glass. “I’m sorry I frightened you but I had to show you I’m really not an investment banker.” “So are you going to kill me?” Louis looks perplexed for a moment. “Why would I kill you? I really want you to work for me.” “How can I work in hell if I’m not dead?” Megan asks suspiciously.

Louis laughs. “Your job would be here.” He points to the ground. Megan sighs almost dejectedly. “How can I work for you and not actually be in hell?” Louis smiles, walks over to and points out the window. “Take a look; pedophiles, murdering drug addicts, suicide bombers and politicians; you’re in hell already…Let’s call it, Hell Lite.” Megan covers her mouth and chuckles. “You have a point there, but what would I be doing for you?” Louis turns from the window to face her; he no longer has a smile, just a look that would freeze the blood of anyone unfortunate enough to see it. “You would serve as an expediter of souls.” Megan drinks another shot of rum and tries to wrap her head around the moment. “What are you talking about?” “The job is long-term Megan, the person who last held this position served me well for a thousand years.”

Megan puts up both hands. “Wait, a thousand years? You expect me to do this for a thousand years?” Louis takes the shot glass and drinks the rum. “If you’re good, you can do it for ten thousand year.” She picks up the glass, which has refilled itself. “First things first, what the hell is a soul expediter?” Louis sits down in front of Megan, crosses his legs and clasps both his hands in front of his mouth in prayer fashion. “Humans die all the time, but sometimes they take longer than they should, that’s where you come in.” Megan cuts her eyes toward the shot glass as it refills itself. “Oookay.”

“Your signature phrase, “Go to hell.” Will speed up the process. It marks the person for pickup by my reapers.” Megan downs another shot of rum. “I don’t know, I don’t like a lot of people but I don’t think I could actually kill someone, although I’d like to.” Louis waves both hands. “No, no; all you’re doing is marking them, my reapers set in motion the actual mode of death, then collect the soul.” Megan sits up on the sofa and tilts her head at Louis. “You mean when I tell someone to go to hell, they actually go?” Louis smiles then nods. “Yes, I have projects that need minions so if you’re good, I’ll be very happy.” Megan slumps back on the sofa. “Why me? What did I do or who did I piss off?”

“When my last expediter left, the reapers in New York slowed do their pickups until you came into the picture.” A tipsy Megan takes another shot of rum. “Why me? I’m not beautiful but I don’t look like death.” Louis clears his throat. “Your soul is dark and your voice resonated with them, so basically they assumed you were the new expediter.” “What the hell do you mean my soul is dark?” “Let’s face it Megan, you are miserable, angry for no reason, you don’t like people and they don’t like you; with the exception of a few flawed people.” Megan gives him a hurt expression. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m crazy about you, but the fact of the matter is, only the devil could love you.” “Love me; I’ll do it, just tell me what to do.” Megan gushes.

Louis downs a shot of rum. “Do what you’ve always done, live your life, curse the appropriate people and we’ll have a long association.” Megan moves next to Louis on the sofa. “What was this thousand-year thing you were talking about before?” “You can, with my help, live forever; and you won’t age a day from this moment.” Megan puts up a finger. “Wait, if I’m the new expediter, what happened to the last one?” “He broke the rule, the only rule.” She nervously inches away from Louis. “What happened to him?” Louis chuckles slightly and shrugs. “Something very unpleasant too be sure.” Megan eases off the sofa. “What is the rule?” Louis rolls his eyes. “The only rule is that you can’t curse a holy man or an innocent; this was agreed to by me and my old boss.” Megan put her hands on her hips and wags her head. “A lot of these so-called holy men are nothing but pedophiles.” Louis spreads his hands out. “Relax, there’s something in place to deal with holy men.”
“Okay Mr. Cypher, do cut hands and mix blood or what? Louis stands up and begins to unbutton her blouse. “That’s Hollywood, B-movie stuff, I have something more pleasant in mind.” Megan stops him. “Do I get paid?” Louis continues to unbutton her blouse. “You no longer have to worry about money, you’ll receive a large amount every week.” Megan swoons as he slides the blouse over her shoulders. “Okay.”

The blare of the clock radio jolts Megan out of a deep, dreamless sleep; she yawns and taps the top of the radio. “What the hell was I drinking?” As she sits up on the side of the bed she feels a tingling on the right shoulder. “What the hell.” She jumps up and rushes into the bathroom; looking in the mirror, she sees what looks like a circular tattoo about the size of a silver dollar, inside the circle is a three-prong pitchfork and the letters L-C in flames on either side of the fork. “What the fuck is this?”

Megan drags herself back into the bedroom and plops face down on the bed. Looking at the clock radio she notices a black cell phone on the nightstand. “Louis left his phone.” She reaches over and picks it up. “I shouldn’t, but I’d love to see if he has any VIPs on speed dial.” The instant she opens the phone, it rings. “Hello?” Megan says nervously. “Good morning Megan.” “Oh, Louis.” She adjusts her robe. “I didn’t mean to answer your phone.” “That’s your phone, a direct line to me.” Megan’s heart beats a little faster. “A direct line?” “Yes, but don’t call me unless it’s a life or death emergency; I don’t do small talk.” “Okay Louis; what’s with the tattoo?” Louis laughs. “That’s my brand, you’re my property now and it lets other expediters know who you are.” “Okay.” Megan gushes. “Can I tell you how wonderful you were last night though?” “Click.” “I guess not.”

Megan showers and leaves the house; as she walks down the street her eyes dart from left to right, just aching to send someone to hell. At the corner of Eighth Avenue and Twenty-Third Street, she stops at an outdoor bistro to have a cup of coffee and a scone; in her mind she just knows a pretentious waiter or waitress will piss her off and she can send them to hell. An attractive, young blond waitress comes out and greets Megan. “Can I help you miss?” Megan looks her up and down scornfully. “Yes, I’d like a large cup of coffee, sweetener and whole milk on the side with a lightly toasted scone with real butter and butter on the side.” “Thank you, this will only take a few minutes miss.” “I doubt it.” “Excuse me, but wouldn’t you be more comfortable inside, it’s cold out here.” Megan raises an eyebrow. “What? Are you the new weathergirl, just get my damn coffee…Please.”

As she sits at her table waiting to give this waitress the business, Felix comes around the corner. “Miss Megan, how the hell are you?” Megan cracks an uncharacteristic smile. “Sit down, you want coffee?” Felix looks around at the six empty tables. “Ain’t it a little cold out here, honey?” Felix and the waitress were right of course the temperature was thirty degrees. “ It feels fine to me.” Felix puts a gloved hand to his mouth. “Somebody got some last night.” Megan blushes, but it wasn’t her getting some that gave her a warm feeling, it was the fact that now she was a minion of Satan so the cold was no longer a problem.

“So miss Megan, how did the interview go?” She inches closer to Felix. “I got my interview last night.” Felix swoons. “Shut up, details, I need details.” Megan leans forward. “He came by….” Her cell phone rings. “Excuse me Lix; hello?” “We don’t talk about me or our arrangment..PERIOD!” Megan stammers. “But.i’m..” “Click.” Felix leans forward. “Dish, dish; what happened?” Megan closes the phone and brushes him off. “It wasn’t all that.” Felix slumps back in the chair and scowls at her. “Oookay. Well, I’ve got to get to work.” He gets up and leaves in a huff.

The waitress comes outside with a tray. “Here we go.” Megan frowns at her. “What happened, did you have to fly to France for the scone?” The waitress, now visibly annoyed with Megan’s unnecessary rudeness, snaps back. “That would be Scotland, not France; enjoy your breakfast.” “Go to hell.” Megan stirs her coffee and a cruel smile washes over her face with the knowledge the she just intentionally damned the waitress to hell.

After a few minutes and not a crash or scream, Megan looks at her tab, sucks her teeth and sticks five dollars under the coffee cup. Just as Megan walks away from the Bistro, the waitress walks out the door; her foot snags on the door saddle and a piece of carpet, causing her to fall forward; she puts her hand out, breaking a section of glass in the door. As she falls a shard of broken glass hanging out of the door pierces her head, killing her instantly in a gush of blood and brain matter. A female passerby and Bistro customers rush to her aid, the screaming and shouting cause Megan to rush back to the Bistro to observe her handiwork; looking down at the woman’s once blond hair matted with blood which slowly creeps toward the street, Megan hisses. “Bitch.”

Smiling and practically skipping like a schoolgirl Megan heads to the subway; as she reaches the station and steps on the first step, the cell phone rings. “Hello?” “I need you to come home. NOW!” Megan smiles. “Oh Louis, can I pick up a salad, I’ve been hard at work for you?” “NOW!” The phone goes dead. She looks at the phone and mocks him. “Now.” After a quick ride and a short walk, she enters her apartment with visions of another sexual encounter with the prince of darkness dancing in her head.

As she nervously walks into her living room, the suave Louis Cypher isn’t sitting there, instead the devil, complete with horns and pointy tail sits, nostrils flaring, giving her a look that burns right through her, “WHAT DID YOU DO!?” The devil yells at her, causing the room to shake; Megan fall back onto the sofa. “Nothing; I didn’t tell Felix about you.” “You stupid bitch!” “What?” Megan shrugs her shoulders. “I sent you some snooty bitch, I’m on the job already.” The devil jumps out of his chair and points a talon at her. “You stupid cow, you broke the only rule you had to abide by.” “What the hell made her so damn innocent?” His eyes narrow and flames shoot out of his flared nostrils. “Hold your tongue, cow.” Megan cowers at corner of the sofa with tears now running down her cheeks. “What did I do? What did I do?”

The devil slaps her across the face, drawing blood from four deep gashes. “To think, you pathetic creature thought you could last a thousand years.” “I did what you asked, damnit.” The devil picks her up by the neck and glares into her dying eyes. “I didn’t ask for an innocent you idiot.” Megan gasps for breath. “What made that bitch so innocent?” As his hand closes around her throat he yells. “SHE WASN’T…THE BABY IN HER WOMB WAS!” As blackness creeps over her, he rips a chunk of flesh from her shoulder that had his brand on it. “You pathetic dog, you won’t need this anymore.” He throws her lifeless body to the ground and they both disappear.

The next instant, Megan opens her eyes and finds herself in front of a door that look hauntingly familiar. Louis appears in a puff of smoke. “I had such high hopes for you.” She drops to her knees. “Please don’t hurt my anymore.” Louis scowls at her. “You have no idea; because of your stupidity I can’t claim a soul for the next ten years.” Megan looks around frantically. “What are you going to do to me? Where are we?” Louis stretches his arms out. “You are in your new home, welcome to hell.” Megan looks around and shrugs. “This is hell? I thought it’d be a lot worst.” Louis smiles and points at the door in front of her. “Behind that door is where you will spend eternity.”

Megan shrugs her shoulders and enters the room; inside she fumbles for a light switch, all the while expecting to see a big open pit with rats and snakes slithering around in it. Finding the light switch, she catches a glimpse of herself in a full-length mirror across the room. She recoils in shock as she sees herself looking the way she did when she was ten-years-old, Megan looks herself up and down then realizes that she only appears to be ten in the mirror. After looking around the room she realizes. “This is my old bedroom, there are my Pollyanna dolls; maybe this won’t be so bad after all, hell, it could be worse.”

It could be worse was about to come to pass as the doorknob on the other side of the room slowly turns. Megan picks up the closest thing to her, a plastic bat and prepares to strike who or what ever comes through the door

The door slowly opens and her father walks into the room, Megan stands stunned, looking at her father who died when she was fourteen. “Daddy?” She drops the bat. Her father closes and locks the door behind him and starts to take off his shirt. “Get on the bed Meg, we got a lot of catching up to do.”

Her screams echo through hell and make Louis Cypher smile an orgasmic smile. “Now Megan, you go to hell.”

© Copyright 2019 Mike Arzu. All rights reserved.

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