Sunday, December 29, 2013

Excerpt from When Angels Fall

Yes, pain after death is very real. Suspended in a state between life and death, your soul remains attached to a translucent thinner layer of mucous and skin. Filled with nerves and pain receptors, the unbearable torment inflicted by the keepers roared through the body a thousand times more than when you were alive. No longer able to bleed, the rotting process quickens as gashes open up your decaying corpse to the disease and filth of the dungeon.
Cursed to live as a sort of half-breed, the demon peered over his shoulder. His latest victim, Roger Fiedler, was a limp heap of slashed and decaying flesh. The man, an attorney and unforgiving womanizer, arrived via gunshot. His life reeked of a man who used any means necessary to harm and berate mankind. Roger’s time ended and the crow called to the sinner’s new master. For two months, the fallen one slashed and nipped at the rotted flesh as the man screamed in agony and begged for forgiveness. Margonne did not care, as his ears lay deaf to man’s cries. Even his special whip offered no solace. In his anger and frustration, he finished off the meat and sent the soul onward.
Pondering his tedious existence, the demon breathed a heavy sigh. A fresh soul would arrive soon and his chamber of pain would come alive again. The raven, mail carrier of hell, squawked his landing on a wrought iron perch. The tormentor, aware there was fresh meat, gazed into the bird’s cold, black eyes studying the victim’s soul. A young male seated at a large oak desk was in the throes of committing suicide. Too much money, power, and women proved detrimental and now the darkened soul of the young CEO begged for relief. David Thornbrook, wealthy, spoiled, and silver-spooned seemed the answer to the demon’s relief. Hmm embezzlement, bankruptcy, and loss of financial status, this may be worth looking into. Margonne teleported forth and found David, a silver plated semi-automatic handgun in his mouth. Shocked at the appearance of the dark figure before him, the yuppie pointed the gun and fired off one round. The bullets penetrate and exit the being and scorch a nearby vase and wall.
“Now, is that any way to treat your master?” Margonne removed the weapon from his quivering hand. “My, my you are a shivering, limped dick son of a bitch aren’t you? This is gonna be too easy.”
David managed a sentence, tears streaming down his face. “Who are you? Am I dead, did I pull the trigger?”
Margonne laughed an evil chuckle and replied. “No you didn’t, but I did.” With a loud crackle, the monstrous instrument exploded into the night igniting a hole in young David’s skull. The demon licked the crimson liquid from the wound and examined his handiwork. “What a pissant, see you in a month or two. I’m taking a vacation.” The specter possessed the body of the dead man, healing the gaping hole, and taking on his very countenance. I should be able to get tons of pussy with this body, not a bad looking kid.
The following morning David Thornbrook marched into Thornbrook, Hall, and Caine just like any other day. The shocked looks on the faces of staff and colleagues were plentiful. Speaking casually he strolled to his office and took a seat. Amanda, his secretary, was quick to appear with the usual, a notepad, and his morning coffee.
“Sir, there is a board meeting to appoint a new CEO. Am I to submit your resignation?” Amanda was baffled at David’s composure.
“No, Amanda.” His smile sly and straight lined. “What you can do is go to your fucking desk and wait for me to call you. I have a few words for the board and will remain in charge like always.”
From dumbfounded to dismayed, Amanda was quick and clumsy as she exited. David watched as the panicked woman stumbled through the door, no idea what was happening. I feel better already. Soon, the next in a line of ass sniffers would visit his domain. Charles Tipton, a seasoned, disingenuous employee, had stayed with the company many years. He rode coat tails most of the way, relying on the hard work and knowledge of others as he reaped their successes. The sycophant kept close especially during the good times. David knew the man exhibited a tendency to waiver when the cards were not in his favor. Well, would you look at this shit here?
“Hey man, what the hell you doing here? I thought you were going postal yesterday when we talked but you're here sharp and ready. What’s up?” Charles huffs a half chuckle. He thought the incident was a joke. Soon the realization sets in and a blank stare crossed the ass kisser’s face.
“Charles since you like to relish in my accomplishments when it seems fit, I want you to take that ass sniffing nose of yours and find the two million that went missing. Find the son of bitches who took it and their whereabouts. If you can’t do this, pack your fucking desk immediately.” David flashed a cold stare to the unsuspecting brownnoser.
Charles thought it a joke and began a stream of nervous laughter. David did not give. His eyes still and dark expressed a different more sinister emotion. Charles stood legs rubbery and weak, he began stuttering, and sputtering, like a bad engine.
“David, you know I don’t have that information. What the fuck?” Charles tried to find an ounce of courage. However, David nipped his attempt at uprising and devoured it whole. “Exactly, how can you have my back, if you don’t know what the fuck is going on? Pack your damn desk and don’t worry, others will follow you.”

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