Angel poked her head out of the portal and looked around nervously before stepping into the waiting room proper, which was lined with a smattering of demons sat upon chairs lined up between tables laden with magazines and a few closed doors, each with a gleaming gold nameplate bearing a name etched in place. She had never been around so many demons before, and having only seen Lew and Repugna, so she hadn’t expected everyone’s appearances to differ so much. Yes, they all had red skin, horns protruding from their foreheads, and prehensile tails, but the shades of red ranged from a deep, almost black red up to a bright, pale red, the horns came in all sorts of lengths and growth patterns, and even the tails seemed to have varied lengths that slightly differing spades. Angel slipped out of her portal and approached the demon seated at the desk, who was typing away at a blistering pace on a strangely shaped keyboard, and she couldn’t help but admire how her green tunic complimented her particular tone and how her short and stubby horns that just barely jutted out of her forehead seemed right at home with her short curly hair.

[Geez, are those really in style again?] Lew complained. [Ugh. To be fashion forward by wearing something less shitty or to be fashion accepted by conforming to terrible decisions… What to choose, what to choose… Still, I suppose I should just be grateful I’ll have my body back again to wear them.]

Angel gulped as she finally reached the desk. “Uh, hi. I have an appointment to meet with Repugna?”

“One second, sorry,” the receptionist responded, her tone distracted as she blazed through typing out the last of whatever she had been working on. Her eyes still glued to the screens, her hand moved to hover over a drawer that flung itself open of its own accord. “Name?”

“Oh, uh, Angel?”

“Angel?” The receptionist’s expression pinched in confusion as her gaze finally shifted to Angel. Her eyebrows rose as her eyes shamelessly scanned her from top to bottom then back up again, which left Lew cackling in her head as Angel fought to keep down the blush threatening to erupt over her face from the intense scrutiny. “And why’re you still in disguise?”

Angel, who had literally never left her human disguise since the day she turned it on before walking into the shop of her friend Mr. Godfrey, blinked in surprise. “Huh. I forgot I was wearing one.”

[You know, I hardly noticed either after a while. It’s so easy to think of you as a human because of how shit at being a demon you are.]

The receptionist’s expression could only be described as one of incredulity. Or perhaps disbelief. Maybe even skepticism. Doubt works too, in hindsight. Oh, and so does dubiousness, and that word is fancy, though perhaps not as fancy as the equally applicable stupefaction. Suspicion was suitable upon consideration, and questioningly was without question likewise germane. So upon reflection, incredulity was hardly the only descriptor for the receptionist’s expression, but it was certainly a fitting one nonetheless.

“You forgot.”

“Yup.”

“How? Surely if you looked in the mirror, you’d notice!”

“Well no? See, I used to be human, and this is the face I saw in the mirror before, so…”

The receptionist bristled slightly, her tail snapping back and forth in obvious agitation. “Used to be human?!”

This outburst caught the attention of the notice of the demons in the room, and Angel quailed a bit under the sudden influx of attention. Fortunately for her anxiety levels, one of the office doors slammed open. An unfamiliar demon scampered out, his tail tucked between his legs, and Repugna stomped out, her horns just barely clearing the door from where they curled up into points.

“Mark my words, Snagcoil, I will tear you a new one if I don’t see improvement in you immediately! Now get out of my sight!”

Lew chuckled maliciously as Angel gulped. [You are so done for, kid. I’m going to enjoy this more than you can possibly know.]

“Brutella!” Repugna bit out as she stalked over to the desk, her eyes locked onto the receptionist. “Send that son of a bitch Bleakmarrow a message that I am not interested in swapping locations for the next annual cycle, and that I will shove any more letters about the topic so far up his ass, his mouth will look like a mailbox!”

“Right away, ma’am,” the receptionist—Brutella, it would seem—said as she immediately sat in her chair and resumed her blistering pace of typing.

“And which one of these maggots is my next—” Repugna started to snarl before her eyes alighted on Angel and widened in recognition. “You.”

[Vengeance will be sweet,] Lew darkly promised, as Repugna stalked forward, grabbed a hold of Angel’s hand, and started marching her back towards the door she had erupted from a few minutes prior.

“This one’s a priority, Brutella!” she called out over her shoulder. “Bring me the file on Angela Cherie Kirk this instant! That dickhole Bleakmarrow can keep a moment.”

Repugna all but tossed Angel into one of the two chairs in front of her imposing desk and stalked around to the other side before sitting down into her own high-backed chair, her tail artfully curling up and to the side. There was a wall to wall and floor to ceiling glass window behind her, but Angel couldn’t bring herself to look away from Repugna’s searching gaze to take a look. A few seconds later, a folder sailed into the room and plopped onto the desk, and with a casual flick of Repugna’s wrist, the door to the room slammed shut.

“Angel, Angel, Angel,” she said, clucking as she flipped open the folder, scanned the sheet on top, and slid it across the desk towards Angel. “What am I supposed to do with this?”

[Fuck yes… I’ve waited so long for this!]

“I-I’m sorry, ma’am,” Angel stuttered, wringing her hands together. “I’ve t-tried my best—I have, I swear!—but…”

“You’re sorry?!”

[Here it comes…!]

“Why in Lucifer’s name are you sorry when your numbers are this good?!”

“Huh…?” Angel blurted while Lew screamed, [Fucking what?!]

“Your numbers! I’ve never seen a demon so dedicated to getting the job done!” she said, tapping her finger on the page. Angel leaned forward to examine the paper and found Repugna was pointing at a ‘100%’ printed in bold ink and circled several times by someone. “I’ve never had a demon on my team who handled every case thrown at her! I’m so used to having to yell at everyone for being complete shit, that I have no idea how to fucking handle this.”

[Wha— But your corruption ratio is completely trash!]

“I don’t understand,” Angel said, her eyes scanning the other numbers. Lew wasn’t wrong—they did seem to be dismal. “What about my other numbers?”

“Aww, look at you being humble!” she cooed before bluntly saying, “It’s disgusting. Stop it. And nobody fucking cares about your other numbers. Sure, they show up on the report, but they don’t really matter. Pretty sure they’re just there so the shits down in tracking can bloat the amount of work they do to seem more important.”

Repugna stood from her desk and turned to walk over to the window, her tail snapping through the air with a violent flick. Angel finally allowed herself to properly look out the clear barrier as well and begrudgingly admitted to herself the expansive view was impressive, even if she didn’t care for what she saw herself. Repugna’s office overlooked a city filled to the brim with skyscrapers, smaller buildings, and the occasional block of pure fire. Advertisements were everywhere for all manner of sinful things like strip clubs, party drugs, and booze, the sky was a jumbled mix of oranges and reds bleeding together, and a haze of heat hung in the air over everything like a thick blanket.

“Listen, Angel. I’m gonna let you in on a little secret just between you and me—boss lady to her best employee, got it? Lucifer sets the goals, and there are two things he cares about most: Getting your ass to the job—can’t manage shit if you aren’t fucking there—and getting the target to choose. That assclown God cares a ridiculous amount about free will, and you didn’t hear this here, but I think that’s why Old Scratch cares too. Wants to liken himself as being better than God at everything, and that means if people are in Hell, he wants it to be clear cut that they chose to be here. You follow me?”

[This is bullshit! You can’t do this to me, you frigid bitchsicle!] Lew raged, screaming as loud as he could in Angel’s head. [I want out! Out, you hear me?! Out!!]

Angel winced a bit at the sudden yelling, and Repugna took notice. “What’s the matter with you?”

“Oh, well, Lew is pretty upset about this…”

“Who…?”

[WHAT?!]

Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

Angel flinched and rapped her fingers against her skull to try and get him to pipe down. “You know, Lew? I possessed his body?”

Repugna continued to stare at her uncomprehendingly for a moment before she snapped her fingers with recognition in her eyes. “Oh! Lew! Ha, Lascivious E. Wormboil! I nearly forgot about him! Shit, what a pain in my ass he was,” she laughed darkly, unaware of the continued litany of swears said demon was shrieking in Angel’s head. “You know, he only went to something like one in five jobs? Showed up late to all the rest, and that was just when he didn’t have vacation mode on, which was all the goddamn time. Practically useless—a real thorn in my side. Replacing him with you was such a coup!”

[Fuck you, you piece of shit asswipe! You’re just a parasite, coasting along on the hard fucking work others do! You’re nothing! No one! Give me back my body!!]

Angel’s discomfort as Lew continued to get louder was obvious on her face, and Repugna’s expression darkened as she took note of it. “Looks like we’ve got a bit of dead weight to get rid of, hm? Don’t worry, I’ve got just the thing.”

The demon turned and strode over to a painting on the wall featuring a man dressed in armor with green and white heraldry who was sporting a very unfortunate haircut and seemed to be sleeping while standing upright. But stranger still than the knight’s mop of hair—which was quite a feat, as the narrator cannot stress enough how unpleasant it was to look at—was the man hunched over just a bit behind him in the picture with a pair of what appeared to be coconuts in his hands. Repugna’s fingers curled around one edge of the painting’s frame, and when she tried to tug at it, it wouldn’t budge.

“Rob, you piece of shit, can’t you see I’m trying to open this thing? Wake the fuck up, you lazy bastard!” she yelled at the painting, causing it to suddenly move as the knight in the frame yelped and jumped in fright.

“Oh, Repugna! Yes, of course—sorry! In you go then!”

The painting swung away from the wall with the other side acting like a hinge. The demon reached inside and pulled out a gleaming white book, and Lew, who had been ranting and raving nonstop from earlier, abruptly cut himself off with a gasp.

[No fucking way…]

“What is that?” Angel asked, her tone unconsciously slipping into reverent tones.

“Funny you should ask, Angel,” Repugna remarked with a smirk. “This is an angel’s Account—the holy counterpart to a demon’s Ledger. It’s rare enough to run into one of those feathery fucks to begin with, but making off with this little beauty… Ha! Well, let’s just say you aren’t the only feather in my cap!”

She walked back over to her desk, laid the Account down on the wood as she took a seat and flipped it open to the back. “You doubtlessly remember I used a ritual to make you possess Lew’s body. If you ever tried to find that kernel of information in the Ledger, then you would have noticed it wasn’t in there at all. That’s because I pulled that little gem out of the angels’ bag of tricks. Now, I could have just shoved that loser’s soul out of his body and left you in there alone, but you were an untested variable. I had no idea if you’d end up being better or worse than that bag of shit, so I figured it was easiest to just leave him bound to the body in case I wanted to swap you back around.”

Her lips pulled back into a toothy smile. “Now though? Fuck him. Let’s cut him out.”

[No, wait! Kid, you can’t let her do this to me!]

Angel hesitated. Lew was a jerk at best and a crass bastard at worst, only rarely contributing in any meaningful way as she took care of her targets, but even still, she couldn’t bring herself to wish death upon him. “What will this do to him? I don’t want him to die!”

[Oh, thank you, kid! Thank you! I knew you wouldn’t let her go through with it!]

Repugna tsked. “You are far too caring for your own good. Don’t worry about the loser. He’s a demon. Lucifer’s accord with God protects even worthless shits like him. He’ll regrow a new body around his soul… eventually. And as a bonus, having his soul ripped clean out of his body will be super painful for him!”

She laughed as she flipped forward in the book before stopping partway into the book, and Lew began to panic once more. [No! You can’t do this! You can’t!]

“S̶̖̺͎̘͕̯͕͍̗͇̬̮̓̀̋̆̂͐é̵̱̘̝͓͉̰̺̙̼͖͚̩͍̓̋͛́͆̆͂̍͂e̵̢̨̦̬͉͉͈̥̰̝͚͈̠̫̾̔̾̈́̌̎̈̉̈́͝,̸̨̛̗̲͕̳͖̫̼̙̽͂̍̀̎̋̽̋͗̇̈́͝͝͝ ̴̧̧̡͇̱͎̖̦͔̈̂͗͂́̀̊̇̂̄̓̈́͗ḥ̴̩͇̰̎̓ơ̷͕̞͐̈́́̀̀w̶̱͍̞̻̻͖̣̻͙̙̰̙͖̯̗̾̀̾ ̷̥̫̭̫͖͈̜̯̗̹̞̮͙̻̈͋͜ḧ̸̛͈̟͍̝͓͍̱̺͖͈́̈̑̅͐͛͘͝e̴͔͔͚͉̖̲̫͈̣͂̽̑̓̑̌̀͂̄̀̚͜͝’̸͉̳́̍̀͌̏̉̓̏̊̾̇̌̃̅s̸̡̥̺̗̳̼̹͙̜̤̯̫͎̭̼̔̀̈́̑ ̸͚͈̞̱̂͆̊̈́͋͂̈́̋͐̈́̂̂͊̚̕t̸̢̲̖͙̖̳͍̩̫͈̫̬͈̽̌͛̀͝͝ḧ̶̢̛̙̱́͗̏̓́̅͑͐̊̀̐̏̾̕r̶͓͌̏̐͋̏͆̉̽͊͊̈̕̚o̶̗̩̝͕͐̂̃͛̄͌w̷̧̛̟̙̫̭͙̱̮̙̭͓̞̻͓̓̄͛́͊̈́͑̈́̋ń̷͙̘̯̀̋̽͗ ̵̲͇͙̉̌͊̔͆̂̓͋̍͂̅̑̈́͒͘o̶̞̟̥͚̮̳̦̔̀̔́̌̂̒̐̚f̵̡̢̭̖̮̥̞̮͎̱̭̣̩́̎̒̎͐̒̈́͜͝͠f̴̧̛̥̫̤̰͙͓͔͈͒̓̋̽̏̐̂̋̃̈́̎͂̇͜ ̴͖̙̼͖̼̖̬̯̝͓̦̲̋̀̇́̓̃̍̆̀͜͝͝͠ę̷̢̩̜̪͎̺̟̀͆̈́͊̾v̸̡̭͂̓̊̓͝͝͠e̵̳̻̞̋̑͋̾̓͝͠ͅŗ̵̤̜̘̞̤͓͕̬̜̞͛͒̈́̒͝ỷ̷̛̤̰͇͖͚̮̟̤̙̯͓̰͔̑̃̈́̎̐͗͐̇͜͜͝͝͠͝ ̶̨͎̻̜͙͇̩̩͎͙̩͙̎̓ͅb̶̧͓͇̟͙̌̐͐͛̏́̓̎̐̌́͒̌͘͜͠ò̶̢̲͎̩͚̰͔̺͂̓͋́̑̏̇̀̊͝n̷̢̞͕̣̤̠͙͎͔̹̓̉̆̓̓̅̌̂̕͜ͅd̷̺̉͊̉̾͒̈́͋̇

̴̧̲̱̯̩̼̻̙͇̰̏͆̽͐̈́̎̎̄̇̄̄Ő̵̠̋͗̍̇̾͗f̸̡̧̧̹̆̏̋́̐̑̕ ̸͔̦͍̥̝̻̭͗͗͑̈́͆͌͂͛̉̔̓͝͝ḧ̵̳͓́̓͌̓̈́͑͒̈́i̸̧̡̢̧͕̰̣͓̘̘̩͎͑̐͗̃̃̂͘͠͝s̷̡͉̝̝̳͚͊̃̒͌̾̊͋͜ ̵̢̡̙̥͓̙͖̣͍̤̳͚̥̳̈̍͋̋͝͝ọ̶̡̙̞̮͕̠͓̹͙̠̭̗́̈́̋̆̎̿l̶̥̗͙̋͝d̴̨̛̰̥̮̤̫̙̙͙̅̍̏͑̅̈́͘͝ ̸̢̡̦̦̣̖͖̬̙͈̤͓̮͗̉̃̊̑̀̏́̎̕͘͠ͅe̴̼͕̟͙̬̙͚̱̤͕͛̊̏͐̐̎͛a̵̛͖͌͑͊̒̉̀͛͆̈́͋̒r̸̢̯̝̤͈̩͌́̀͗̑͂̾̆̉̂̉̎͊͌t̴̰͍̫̤͊͒̓̈̈́̾̓͋̎̃̈́́́h̷̛͉͙̐͂̑̀̌̌̀̽́̕̚͝͝b̴̩̞̱͓͇̦͈̪̻̱͔͇̮̤͂̓͗͂̀̏̎̚͠ͅo̵̻̦̝̺̞̺͕͐̾̾͐͗ư̷̮̫̞͈̦̓̀̄̓͂̐͂͗ñ̸̡̛͇̥̘͚͙̮̱̈́̃̈̆̀̄̂̒̆͒̅̕d̷̢̯͙͓̗̙͉̭̘̥̫͊̏͛̉̍͆̄̂͗̆́̉̊͗͜͜ͅ ̴̡̠͉̑̋͒̈́͒͗̔̃͗͂͝i̷̡͈̩̰͙̬̙͈̒̈́̄͌̾͌͘n̶̹̹̺̭̣̞͔͚̈́̉͂͆́̊̄̌́̇͌̑͜͝t̸̢̪̺̻̼̲͓̝̖͖̄̈́̒̌̈̀̀e̶͙̭̥͕̲͉̬͓͌͑̒͛̎̂̈̌͝g̷̡̣̻̰͙̙̭̳͌͐͐̅̽û̴̟̓̊̇̀̕͝m̵̡̢̹̞̯̔̆̃̅̒̂̆̇̏̃̓͒͘͝͝e̷̡̹͕̘̱͙͓͋̃͛̄̍͋ͅǹ̷̛̩͐ţ̶̣̪͔͙̯̪̭̻̘͖͙͛̽̓̚̕͝͠”

Repugna’s chanting made the air in the room feel light and fluffy, like Angel might float away at any moment—drifting off into the sky and never returning to the earth again. A sound almost like chimes filled her ears as each successive word echoed in a room that should not echo, and a light so bright it was blinding began to emanate from her forehead, rising in brilliance in time with the sound of Lew’s screaming. Once the final word was uttered, the ethereal feeling that had suffused the room snapped, bleeding away in an instant as a minuscule red dot of light shot out of her forehead off into the distance and out of sight.

“Lew?” Angel murmured.

No reply came.

“Ah, how fitting that such an interesting demon like you would have such an interesting body,” Repugna remarked as she flopped the Account shut. With a quick intonation of,“Z̵̨̽ǐ̵͈m̶̯̏ ̴̫͒z̵͕̈a̴͊ͅḿ̸̟ ̷͙̍š̴̜p̶̐͜h̸̢̋a̸͉͘l̵̰͊õ̵̰o̶̩̔s̴̿͜h̵̯̓i̷̭̚e̷̍ͅ ̴͚̽ḧ̴͚́e̷͍͊n̴͉͂g̸̊͜ ̷̣͝a̸̻̚k̸̬͠a̵̪͑ȟ̷̪k̶̲͒ą̵͐ḧ̴͙́-̷̦͊k̵͇͋ȃ̵̗l̵͔̎ã̵̲h̸̞͗ ,” a tall mirror affixed to a stand appeared to the side of the demon’s desk.

“What…?”

“Go on,” Repugna said encouragingly, a wide, toothy smile on her face. “Take a look.”

Angel tentatively stepped over in front of the mirror, and her eyes widened at what she saw. It seemed the human disguise that she hadn’t removed in decades had been dispelled as a byproduct of Repugna’s incantation. Where she might have expected to see Lew’s form, a body she only half remembered after going so long without seeing it, she instead saw her body, only it had become demonic. Her skin was a shiny, nigh iridescent pink red, her tail was relatively short with a blunt spade, and her horns jutted out of the area right in front of her ears instead of her forehead, each of them extending out a short distance before becoming turning to grow backwards along the length of her skull.

“Oh yes. You, Angela Cherie Kirk, are going to make a fine demon,” her boss smugly remarked. “And it’s all thanks to that Account.”

----------------------------------------

Henry Godfrey appeared in a flash of light at the entrance to a graveyard, and without missing a beat, he began to carefully make his way through it. It had been some time since his last visit, but an observer wouldn’t have noticed with how intimately his feet walked the path. Before long he reached the gravestone he had been looking for. There was nothing especially notable about it, nothing that set it apart from the rest. It was neither particularly plain, nor was it especially extravagant. No, like most graves, the lone feature it had that made it especially unique was the name wrought into its body.

“Hello, Lizzy,” he told the stone. “I’ve come with news.”

The sound of the gentle breeze was his only answer, but it was answer enough.

“Our little Angel has truly come into her own,” he said, a small smile upon his lips. “It’s not precisely the outcome I would have wished, but you know the limitations I have to work with. Still, there are those less bound, and I was able to fashion her a destiny less restricted than yours or mine. She has done so well. I only wish she would visit more, but I suppose I really only have myself to blame there.”

He paused, his eyes sliding shut as the breeze flowed past. He remained quiet, content to listen for a minute longer.

Eventually he murmured, “I miss you terribly, Lizzy. We’ll be together again someday.”

He turned to leave, but he paused when he saw a poodle sat upon its haunches a short distance away. “Hello, Mephistopheles.”

The poodle twisted up into the upright form of a male demon, his red skin standing out starkly against the backdrop of the grass and trees of the graveyard and the gentle blue of the sky. “Faust.”

“I go by Henry, these days.”

“Yes, I had heard. But you will still always be the same to me—the one who got away.”

“I do not mean to be discourteous, Mephistopheles, but I am afraid I have an appointment that approaches soon. May I ask what brings you to this place?”

“Straight to the point, I see,” the demon remarked with a smirk. “You used to be much more roundabout.”

“Times change,” the angel replied with a gentle smile.

“Are you in such a rush to see your lovechild after abandoning her for so long? Tell me, what does your precious Margaret think of this torrid little affair?”

“Marjorie and Lizzy were both aware from the beginning, old trickster. How little you think of me.”

Mephistopheles’ expression soured. “I shall cut straight to the heart of the matter then.”

“That would be best.”

“An upstart in Hell has made strides beyond her aptitude, and it is well known one a demon claiming the name of ‘Angel’ plays a part. What is less well known but whispered nonetheless is the catalyst of this climb to celebrity—an Account, stolen from an angel.”

“Gossip about a case of loose fingers has brought you to me after all this time? This is a different side of you than I have seen before.”

“You play the fool, but I am not such. The spider’s web might be invisible from one angle, but a step to the side and its reach is rendered clear.”

“I jest, Mephistopheles,” Henry lightly pointed out. “As I shall extend you the courtesy of being honest, please afford me the same in admitting you heard my private conversation ere a few minutes past. Yes, the Account is my own.”

“You act as though your kind are allowed to lie,” the demon sneered. “Still, it costs me nothing to admit your words were heard by more than the breeze.”

“Out with your question, if you please, Mephistopheles! It is plain to see what you intend to ask, but if you never reach for fruit, how can you hope to claim it?”

“If the fruit should fall to the ground…”

“And so the demon leaves matters to chance. Come now, where is the tempter who led me around the world in search of contentment? I will tarry only a moment longer…”

Mephistopheles snarled. “There are those who wish the upstart struck down. Reclaim your Account that the way is clear, and your lovechild will be spared.”

Henry smiled as he held up a gleaming white book. “You worry too much. My Account was always going to be retrieved, just as I was always going to thwart whatever ills you may place in Angel’s path.”

The demon turned and began to draw a portal. “We shall see where her future lies.”

“Indeed, we shall.”

The demon jumped through his portal, and Henry vanished in a flash of light. Only the breeze was left behind.