Salvation groaned as he read the missive, the typed words wavering as the paper slowly evaporated.
Incorporeal paper is a goddamn nuisance. But so is the Fuhrer. Bloody- oh the irony.
He strode across his lavish quarters and grabbed a coat, swinging it over his shoulders as he dramatically opened the door. Salvation stepped out into a long hallway and loped down the hallway, his bare feet making no sound as he headed towards the elevator.
Ding
The silver doors opened and Salvation stepped inside, a manicured finger pressing the ground floor button.
"Hold the doors! Please!" A small man burst into the confines of the elevator, his glasses askew. Salvation glanced at him, his nose wrinkling as he took in a pungent rosy odor.
"Where to?" He brusquely asked as the elevator rattled down.
"Basement, thanks." The man regained his composure, sweeping his hair to the side and neatening his part with his fingers. Salvation selected the gleaming square and waited for his floor.
"What business do you have in the basement?" He asked the small man,
"I got a couple of new tenants to interview. They just got in, you know, from the surface. Major players in the surface world. I think...yeah one was running for president. He had a weird name, kind of like a cartoon duck I've heard about."
"Has the Fuhrer already authorized the building plans?" His interest piqued, Salvation began pondering the thought of new arrivals to his little circle of Hell.
"Not yet. Why are you so curious?"
"I just happen to be the so called landlord. I'm vice pres, I guess you could say of the fifth circle." Salvation grinned, his white pointed teeth glinting in the fluorescent light.
Ding.
The elevator doors hissed open, the letter G flashing on an LED screen.
"Alright, nice chat. Bye!" Salvation smoothly stepped out into a spacious lobby.
He cursed as the cold marble stung his bare feet, and began walking to the front desk. As he walked, brown leather boots materialized around his feet, the heels clicking as they took on substance.
"Salvation, your car is here." a perky girl appeared beside him, oblivious to the milling souls that filled the lobby.
Salvation followed her to the grand arching door that led into the main street.
"Gee, it's cold today!" she smiled as she opened the door to a matte black hearse.
"A hearse? Really? Death can't be any classier can she?" Salvation glared incredulously at the ungraceful vehicle, his chest rising as he fumed at the car.
"My sense of class is unmatched my dear. It wasn't me who chose this vehicle, but the one who summoned me. Get in before I get in and drag you there myself." A veiled woman wound down the window and turned her head to face him, "Petunia dear, I'll take it from here."
Petunia bustled off, her hair swinging over her collar.
"Ah why'd you make her leave? She smelled, and looked pretty. I can still smell that perfume, mm-" Death grabbed his collar, pulling him through the door into the seat.
"Sit down you pervert." she snarled at him, her usually perfect hand twisted into talons.
Salvation shut up immediately.
They spent most of the trip in silence, the air heavy with the distaste of its occupants. The invisible hearse driver smoothly turned out of the boulevard, the wheel spinning as the hearse righted itself. Salvation glanced at the veiled woman, an image of some sort of large, skinny bird materializing in his mind at the thought of her. He shuddered at the horrific image and stared out the window at the passing scenery.
He watched as the pleasant urban backdrop he resided in faded to rolling countryside, the vibrant green hills filled with picturesque houses and villas. The sun beat down on the black car, and Salvation groaned as the temperature rose dramatically.
"Can we open a window? I feel like I'm burning in Hell. It's not pleasant." Salvation whined, perspiration beading on his forehead.
"Shut up."
"Why?"
"You're annoying."
"Yeah, but it's hot in here. Or...it might just be me." Salvation flashed Death a cheeky grin, his white teeth almost blinding. Death turned her head, her opaque veil only hinting at the features of her face.
"One more word."
"Will you marry m-" A gloved fist connected with his jaw, throwing him back into the door, hard enough that the car tipped slightly.
"We're almost there so shut up before I hit you again."
"Damn, lady! Calm your farm!" He rubbed his chin, tenderly touching the already swollen area.
He kept rubbing his chin as he stared at the countryside, his eye catching on a patch of dead grass, the yellow, limp strands seeming to stand out like a neon sign.
