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My Non-Existant Journal
price check on aisle pants. (It's a story)
*****
good evening drgnboi_08. would you like to access your account? Y/N

>y
you currently have a total of
520
souls in your inbox. please remember to wash your hands after condemning them to eternal damnation.

what would you like to do?
1. check inbox
2. access LU-C4 files
3. message board
4. more options
5. exit

>5
thank you and have a nice day.

[logging out...please wait.]

*****


I slouched in my swivel chair and spun around idly. It's been a slow day at the office. Yeah, 520 souls to take care of, but after the whole computerized system got put in, or installed, or whatever, it really hasn't been as satisfying, this whole condemning thing. For one thing, I have to imagine hearing the screams as the souls are dragged down to Hell. Not nearly as much fun as being there in person. It's Xidane's fault, that silly little human. She's the one who started this whole thing.

I spun around a few more times, vaguely considering going to the cafeteria for some coffee. Nah. Better not. The coffee's always cold here. You'd think that, working in Hell and all, everything would be burning, but noooo. They like to torture the employees too. As I dismissed that idea, the loudspeaker blared a message across the building.

"PRICE CHECK ON AISLE PANTS, PLEASE. PRICE CHECK ON AISLE PANTS."

I chuckled to myself. Last week, Gethin had somehow fixed the PA system to say the most random things. They still haven't figured out how to fix it. At least it's not my issue; Gethin may be immature, but he generally knows what he's doing. Though lately, he's been hanging around some pansy angel. It's been a lot quieter around here, that's for sure.

With a sigh, I leaned back in my chair. Which probably isn't the best thing to do when you've got spiky fins on your head. They dug into my skull rather painfully. Ow. Okay, that was stupid. Damn, I'm bored.

My phone rang, and I swung around to pick it up, holding it to my ear.

"Yes?"

"Sir, Death wishes to speak with you. Shall I let her in?"

"Why the Hell not. I've got nothing better to do," I replied. My voice was casual, but a spark of excitement flared inside me. Death? She's not someone who visits everyday. Must have something important to talk about. Something to divert me, perhaps?

The door opened soundlessly, and an icy aura crept in. Not really icy, as in frozen water, but more like...lifeless. Unmoving. Decaying. Isn't that cheerful?

And following that wave of morbid-ness, Death stepped into my office.

"Hey, Death," I said.

"Dragonboy," she greeted me. "How's the condemning coming along?"

I shrugged. "Eh, not too great. It's been boring lately. Especially since Gethin doesn't come around anymore."

"You can always count on that one to wreak havoc, hm?" Death laughed softly, shaking her head. The movement caused her silver bangs, usually hanging over her left eye, to shift. I blinked in surprise.

"Hey, Death. What happened to your eye?" Or rather, lack of eye, I silently amended, seeing the hollow eye socket.

"Ah, well, it's the reason I came, really." She lifted a slender white hand and brushed back her hair, revealing the empty socket again. A few streaks of blood dripped down from it like tears. "A few days ago, some fools thought it'd be fun to go and steal my eye. I got it back, and killed them, naturally."

"Naturally," I echoed. This was leading somewhere good.

"But then I figured, hey, death isn't exactly that horrible a punishment, is it? And they deserve to be tortured for this. For at least a few eternities. Problem is, 'stealing Death's eye' isn't exactly on the list of things that'll get you into Hell. Never been done before, ya know? And," she muttered under her breath, "hopefully never again." Her single green eye looked my direction again. "You see what I'm getting at?"

"You want me to go and see to these souls myself," I reasoned calmly. Hah, I may have been calm on the outside, but I was doing a victory dance on the inside. Brilliant! The perfect excuse to pay a visit to the Chasm of Damnation without being accused of deserting my post. After all, who would refuse Death a favor? She may look sweet, but she has this sadistic streak a mile wide. Anger her, and I'd be losing my eyes next. Of course, I wasn't going to let an opportune moment like this pass...

"You do know that I'm on the job," I said glibly. "I can't go gallivanting off during workhours, even if it's for you, O Lovely Mistress of Death."

Death smirked, seeing through the ruse. To be honest, I wasn't trying very hard. "Come on, Dragonboy. I'll buy you a coffee."

My head fins perked up. "Coffee?"

"Hot coffee. From Terra."

"Deal." Satisfied by the offer, I stuck out my hand, forgetting momentarily who I was shaking hands with. Despite my long red gloves, Death's touch left my hand devoid of all feeling for a few seconds, before the uncomfortable sensation was replaced by a feeling of bone numbing cold. I scowled, rubbing my hand.

"You did that on purpose."

She only laughed. "Come on, kid. Let's get a move on. We've got souls to torture."

-TBC-






User Comments: [1]
Fantasmasque
Community Member





Mon Mar 24, 2008 @ 03:42am


you are amazing xD


User Comments: [1]
 
 
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