A web developer AND The succubus

Prologue

I take aim and throw.

The paper ball lands perfectly in the bin, but the satisfaction it brings isn't enough.

I turn back to the computer and place my hands on the keyboard again.

Damn it...

Hell here, hell there... give me a break. The real monsters are called Java, SQL, and Angular.

The last one in particular sounds almost like the name of an evil god. I hate these technologies. And yet... they should theoretically help me get a job.

But thinking about this phrase fills me with sadness, and I remember all my attempts in life to build a decent career by studying these technologies. Attempt after attempt, months passed where I kept studying, only to be rejected by every company, while some well-connected person with zero knowledge got hired.

In my sadness, I found myself isolating more and more from the world, and in the end, I died.

And now I'm here, in this room, doing the exact same thing. My life hasn't changed much in the end.

I start pressing the keys on the keyboard, trying to solve the problem in the code.

"Damn it, these imps don't know how to program. Even I'm better than them, it seems."

It's strange that it took ending up in hell to find a job. Because even here in hell, they have IT consulting companies. And they use the same technologies as in the human world. In fact, you could say they exported them from the human world. And they have less trained personnel than it might seem.

I'm not an expert. In the human world, I only managed to work for three months, and in a shitty company at that.

They deliberately pushed individuals to the peak of stress. It was "formative," they said, but in the end, I was the only one in the group who didn't get hired. I notice a tear under my eye and wipe it away.

Now is not the time to think about it.

I get back to working on the code, pushing all these thoughts away.

Before I can do that, though, I jump from my chair due to an unexpected sound that hits me like a slap directly in the ear.

I turn off the phone alarm and stretch, sighing in relief because it's 6 PM. So, I'm done working for today.

The feeling each time is priceless. It feels like being freed, as if a chain had me tied to the computer until 6 PM.

I close IntelliJ and all the programs open on the computer. Because from now on, I'll be doing something else, because after 6, I don't work. But I only think that now.

Some time ago, it wasn't like this, and I often had to stay past 6 to work. Without being paid for the extra hours, of course.

Now I can afford it, given that apparently in this company of imp programmers, no one knows how to program better than me.

Yes, it's a small startup, but I didn't expect such levels.

The best part is that they allow working from home on the computer, and it's wonderful because it saves time and stress.

I get up from the chair. I thought about playing something or watching some videos, but in reality, I want to go out for a walk. And while I'm at it, I'll do some shopping.

After all, I never go out. I have no friends here in hell, except for my plants. If they can be considered friends.

I get up from the chair and go towards the window.

Hell is strange. The sky is red, and it's never night. Although at a certain time, the temperature drops.

And yet, I still can't sleep as well as I did when I was alive. Even closing all the windows, I can't get used to it.

The view isn't that bad, though. Pentagram City is a much more pleasant city to live in than the boring American cities I lived in when I was alive. Especially in the remote places far from the city.

Those people don't realize there's a world out there. They might as well be living on the fucking moon.

Here, it's actually full of interesting people, not just among the humans, but also among the native infernals. Yet, I've never had the chance to approach one of them.

Sooner or later, it will happen.

I think as I head towards the door.

I take the jacket from the coat rack and put it on, then slip on my boots.

I look around before putting my hand on the handle.

Maybe I went overboard when I had this place repainted. I made the walls red and added pink neon lights at the bottom and blue neon lights at the top.

In reality, my parents would never have let me put up such a gaudy mess.

Living alone and in hell has its advantages.

I put my hand on the handle and open the door.

The hallways of the buildings here are pretty crappy. In total contrast to my apartment, which was crappy too before I had it repainted by a company of imps.

I put on the mask and close the door behind me. Turning my head, I can see myself in the mirrored glass of the hallway.

I look at my clothes, adjusting my jacket.

I like these color combinations I created with burgundy and pink. And they match perfectly with the devil mask, which I painted black.

I don't remember ever going out without a mask since I got the apartment. And that's a good thing. I don't like my face.

I start walking down the hallway, full of doors, windows, and cracks in the walls. I'm not saying it looks like one of those cheap buildings in slum areas full of drug addicts, but it gives just that impression.

As I'm thinking this, I hear loud music coming from one of the apartments.

I had heard that a star with their crew had rented a recording studio right on this floor, near my apartment.

It must be them. I just hope they don't make noise at night.

I walk a bit further until I reach the elevator, the only part of this building where the tenants decided to invest. And indeed, it's new, totally contrasting with the rest of the building.

I don't even have time to approach the elevator before the door opens. And before I can focus on the passengers, I'm overwhelmed by an unspecified number of people, making me spin like a top.

I see indistinct figures with the same colors characterizing the hallway, until I stop, and with my head spinning, I direct my gaze towards the passengers, now far from me.

There are three girls; they have horns and a long tail. Height like that of humans. They are succubi, and I realize this when I notice the sensual atmosphere in the air.

I get goosebumps, and desire rises, but I try to compose myself.

One of them has pink skin, and I'm pretty sure she's the first to come out of the elevator. She was the first to overwhelm me.

"Watch where you're going next time, bitch!"

The girls continue happily on their way, skipping cheerfully.

The pink one raises her hand. I can't tell if it's in apology or mockery. But in any case, it's not important. I see them heading towards the recording studio. Evidently, it must be the crew. So I won't see them again soon. I see no reason to argue.

I enter the elevator and press the ground floor button.