Snippet #2385723

((I'm just gonna use the opening as the first post, okay? He's waiting for her to come so they can sign the contract and get on with life. ^^))

Oh, well… HELLO THERE. Oh—crap—sorry, did I scare you? I can’t really help it. I guess I’m kind of scary? I think it might be the tattoos. Of course, maybe it’s the horns. Or my reputation? I don’t know. Great—I’m making such a good first impression. Damn it. Why can’t I be one of those teddy bear type guys? WHY, for the love of go—oh, shit. You’re still here? You mean, I HAVEN’T scared you off yet? OH MY GOSH YOU’RE SUCH AN AMAZING PERSON. I love you.

Moving on.

This is my life’s story. Oh, wait. I guess… this is more my week’s story. But, uh, enjoy it anyway. If I wasn’t me, I think I’d laugh at the poor sap that went through all of this. But, that sap is me, so… uh… yeah. I don’t plan on laughing. But you can laugh. I mean, if you actually can laugh… Anyway, this is how it went. Initiate FLASHBACK. Woo…oo… hoo…

I held my breath as I watched all the lights abandon their posts, fleeing my sight as though souls headed to the afterlife, leaving only darkness in their midst. I wonder, sometimes, if the light is so great—does it realize the disaster that follows its absence? Does it realize that by leaving, it allows the darkness his evil escapade? Really, if the light is so sanctimonious… why? Why would it leave? Someone who allows bad things to happen, well, they’re just as bad as the person who does bad things. Don’t you think? I always thought so. That’s why I don’t really give a damn about doin’ wrong. I’m gonna be the bad guy either way, whether I do it myself or wander off and let someone else do my dirty work. Really, isn’t it worse to let someone else soil their hands? Then there are two bad people, instead of just me. So, according to that logic, I’m actually a good guy. Right? People just don’t take the time to think outside the box. They see a man’s hands covered in red, and they think he’s a freaking demon. They don’t take the time to think why his hands are red. They don’t see me as a good guy, and I guess I’m really not, but they could at least give me a chance. Aren’t diamonds buried in unpleasant, hard-ass rock? And when you finally get to ‘em, well, aren’t they ugly as hell? Aren’t I kinda I like that? Sure, I don’t have the best profession… I mean, I’m no doctor or plumber or some useful chap like that. And, yeah, I guess I’m not Mr. Charisma sittin’ pretty on a high horse born of the acceptance of others… but, deep down, I’m okay, aren’t I? I’ve got a diamond in there somewhere, don’t I? Some small sparkle deep down in my soul? Doesn’t everyone have a diamond somewhere? What happened to don’t judge a book by its bloody cover? What happened to—to—oh, forget it. Maybe I’m wrong, actually. I forgot. I don’t have a soul. Well, I sorta have one… but it isn’t exactly mine, is it? Well—not yet. I might’ve lost it, but I’m gonna get it back. Sure I am. I’ll get it back. Let’s see, there’s four of them in here… right? Oh, wait. I only need three. Well, isn’t one of these folk just lucky as a clover? Damnation—good for that little soul.

A sound startled me as I crouched in the bushes, but I relaxed when I realized it was me that exhaled. Turns out I kept holding my breath as my mental tangent rambled on. Why do I always do that? Sure, there’s more risk doing it this way, but come on. There’s no need to go through these half-assed pep talks every time. I mean, I’ve been at it for almost six years now. And before that, when it was easier than frosting a cake (well, actually, most things are easier than frosting a god-damn cake), I was doing it for…for…um… well, I don’t know actually. It’s kind of a blur. I know it was a long time though. Jeez—I wonder how old I am? Let’s see, seventeen plus six plus…well, it would be at least another six, but it was probably more like twelve, or was it nineteen… or fifteen? Twenty-three? God, I don’t know.

Looking around, I realize my surroundings changed. I’m inside the house now. A familiar, kinda salty smell greets me. It envelopes my hand, which I guess is…wet? Oh, right. Blood. Duh. I hear a soft whimper from under a red sheet. Well, actually, it was a white sheet. That’s obvious from the small corner left pristine. It looks out of place, one white corner when all the rest is saturated in hemoglobin. Damn—I love that word. Hemoglobin. It sounds… it sounds so damn adorable! Like, a cute little chubby goblin—a green one, all round with stubby little appendages and big eyes and a round shape. They’d be fat and tiny, but they’d band together and smother you in cuteness. Then, with your dying gasp, you’d yell, DAMN YOU HEMOGLOBINS! But, it wouldn’t be them that killed you—you see, you’d laugh yourself to death at the ridiculousness of getting killed by something as innocent-sounding as hemoglobin. Hemoglobin. Hemoglobin. I just can’t help but smile when thinking that word. Hemoglobin. Hemoglobin.

“Hemoglobin,” I say softly, exposing my grin with a chuckle. The whimpers catch my attention again. “Oh, you still alive? Sorry ‘bout that. I’ll end your pain,” lifting back the heavy sheet, I see a woman—unharmed—and a guy with a knife in his chest. Huh. I only stabbed one? What was the other resistance, then? Crinkling my brow, I scan for the other knife, but I can’t see it. I really should stop daydreaming in the middle of murder. It’s so easy to miss important detai—“Fuck!”

Clenching my teeth against the shot of pain, I wrap my hand around the wrist of the woman. “W-well, at least I found my k-knife, huh?” With a strained smile, I use my other hand to firmly grasp her chin. One obtuse angle later, accompanied by a snap, she fell limp next to the man. Probably her husband. I mean, unless she’s just an unlucky mistress or something. Pulling out the blade she buried in me left side, (it’s kind of sad, she was aiming for my heart and missed terribly) I finish off the man.

One thousand four hundred and ninety nine.

Only one more to kill.

I knew there were two children in this household. I figured I should go find one of them. And, frankly, that’s what I did. The other was probably hiding in a crevice somewhere or maybe she wasn’t home at all. I didn’t really care. It wasn’t really my problem. I had killed the allotted 1,500 people. No need to worry about another. I remember thinking how I was good and free now, wasn’t I? My contract had been completed. I had kept my bit of the deal, so now it was time to claim the reward. It was time for the other guy to lift his end of the couch.

Too bad I was such a freaking idiot, naive and easily deceived. Of course it was a farce from the beginning—I can’t even really call it treachery, it was so obvious this would be the outcome. Well—not THIS in particular… This situation is one I wouldn’t have even begun to dream of, but I mean the whole reason I’m in this situation in the first place. Ah, well. I guess that’s what happens when you piss off the devil, eh?

I wonder what she’ll be like. I never did see her that day, when I killed her family and burned her house down to ashes. I suppose she’d be pretty pissed with me. I suppose she can join the club, though. I never was Mr. Charisma, was I? No one ever really liked me, honestly. But, really, this is such a drag. I go through the trouble of massacring 1,500 people, scaring the cops into instantly closing every case connected to me, and doing it the old fashioned way—as a humanish being—too. And THIS is what I get? It was bad enough being demoted to a contract demon, but signing my soul to the girl I so mercifully allowed to live? What kind of sick joke is this? C’mon, Lucifer, surely the first punishment was enough… why do I have to suffer through this as well? WHY?

I guess, secretly, I really am freaking out. It’s like this: I am a demon. I’m a demon that pissed off his master. I’m a demon that got demoted to a contract demon, and was forced to a human form and told to kill a boatload of people. Took me six damned years. On my last massacre, I let one girl live. Yeah, I took everything from her except her life. Better than actually taking her life, too, right? I wish I was still breathing. But, no, I’m dead. Oxygen is something I can’t appreciate anymore. Life is something I can’t appreciate anymore. But, this girl, who shouldn’t have gotten any sort of vengeance—she’s gonna be my new master. God knows what she’ll have me do. Obviously, with her probably hating me and all, it won’t be all that nice. And the worst part—at this rate—I’ll never be free.

My ears coaxed me out of my internal rant just as Lucifer started finishing up his lecture—or whatever the hell this was. Sentencing, more like it. My anxiety—as I’ve come to realize that’s what it is—was already showing.
“Oh, one more thing, before I forget,” he said.
“Hm? Oh. What’s that, master?”
“It’s quite amusing, actually. Be sure to read the last page. She can hurt you, kill you even,” his smile was extra malicious, and it was directed toward me. What was wrong with me? It’s… I felt my hands shaking. Looking away from him and down to my hands, I sat and watched them tremble. It felt like my very soul was…I don’t know… paralyzed by a tingling sensation. It’s… it was unpleasant. More unpleasant then the snake-like hiss in my ear.
“You always said you wanted to remember what life felt like. Well, here you are, son. Enjoy your precious life and the fear that comes with it.”

With that, he left me, a trembling form alone in the woods. I was terrified. I hadn’t felt fear in, arguably, decades. Sure—I had felt pain, but I never had to fear for my life. I have no blood in my veins… at least, I didn’t. Now… Well, frankly, at this rate I won’t have any left. What, with the empty hole from the woman now animated as a blackened river. Isn’t blood supposed to be red? Well, mine is black. I guess it’s a reminder that my life is fake, but realer than it was at the same time. I guess I’m some sort of half dead humanoid thing. Isn’t that nice. I know I wanted to be human, but this is ridiculous. I’d rather be a full demon than whatever this is.

Oh, right. Well, that’s the end of my little flashback of sorts. As you can see, I’m still in the woods, keeled over pathetically with my sticky blackened hands trying to keep this tar inside of me, shaking out of strain and fear. What a pathetic picture I must be. But, I’ve made a decision. I already died once. I’m not going to again. So, I’ve gotta convince this girl to release me from the contract I’m about to sign. I don’t care how long it takes me. I’ll get my freedom. I’ll get it ‘cause it should already be mine. I’ll do it, just you wait…

Just you wait…

I’ve just gotta get pumped up. Yeah. YEAH. Bring IT on. BRING IT ON, FOOLS. I’m ready to get through this—I’ll make her see my side of it and she’ll let me go. He’ll see that I’m not that easy to punish. I never was a downer. Depression—HA, I laugh at depression in the face! Or, uh, something like that. I wonder when this chick will get here? Maybe I should try to look a little less pathetic… I should radiate the strength I possess. I’ve just gotta push myself u—

…

New plan. I’ll just…chill with the worms… for a bit. Hah… I mean, yeah. Something without any bones, they’re pretty…eh…badass… I guess I’ll just… take notes or something… get in good… and make ‘em my peeps… I love you, worms…

Yeah… I’m not going to master egocentrism any time soon. Thanks for listening to my little story, King worm. What’s that? You aren’t the king? Well, you fucking should be. I’d bow down to you. I think I’ll name you George, and you’ll be my best friend. We’ll be inseparable. The demon and the worm. Yeah. King George the Royal Worm of Awesomeness. I love you, Your Highness… Gah… I will never daydream at work again… uhg… the agony…

You know, G-George… I think… I think I don’t like life very much anymore.