The Soul List

I Describe My Job

I hated my job. The working conditions were terrible, the boss gave the worst "vacations" ever, and I didn't get paid. Well, I did get paid; but I'm pretty sure threats of moving me to the "mush" pits weren't actually considered payments. But I digress. It could at least be worst. Here, I was inside a hot, smelly, sulfurous room, instead of outside in the hot, smelly, sulfurous air. Oh, the joy.

And the boss. I was working for the Devil. The literal freaking devil. "Lucy", as he was known around the break room. Well, not since the two adolescent Fallens that made up the nickname had "mysteriously" (I mean violently) disappeared.

Around the catacombs, I was the file and paperwork manager. It takes an unbelievable amount of paperwork to run hell. And with the Demons demanding equality and Tartarus and Helheim teetering on the edge of absolute war, I had been putting in a lot of extra hours lately.

But I suppose I hate my job most for the disappointment. As the most senior member of the office, I was in charge of the "Soul List". Not the most creative title, but since when had Satan ever been known for his creativity? Well I guess he did create the Seven Deadly Sins. It was really ironic, since Lucy always expected everyone in the office to be on time. Anyways, the list is about the exchanges the Boss makes. In exchange for your soul, or soul of your true soulmate (those were rare nowadays), or whatever he wants at the time, Lucifer will grant you one wish. Just one. And not those horribly pathetic wishes that come from 3rd rate "genies" cough cough demon dropouts cough cough, but a real wish. One that will grant you anything that your heart desires. No side effects, just complete the payment and boom.

I was in charge of writing down the names. Some of them were downright shocking, while others were eh. Justin Bieber. Buddha. (Note: Hitler's name isn't on there, which was really shocking, I mean the guy totally caused all the traffic jams around here, like we had to install new streets, build new housing, and guess who does the paperwork for all that?That's right, me. As I said, inconsiderate.) George Washington. Ghandi. Bruno Mars. Those were just some of the people who made the deal. I have to admit, sometimes I wonder what they ask for. Power? Peace? (I don't think the Devil would actually grant that one though.)

One day, (Or night, you couldn't tell in hell), I was going through the older trades. Socrates. Confucius. Jesus. There it was, the name wedged between Confucius and Genghis Khan, and I ... didn't know how I felt. I suppose I had been numbed, I mean after you see one good guy's secret crimes, it all just blurs together. But this seemed so wrong somehow. Jesus was up in there right now, living the good life. But he had struck a deal with the Devil. Did God know? Should I do something? This was Jesus we're talking about, the ultimate good guy of good guys. (And an absolute wuss in my opinion, I mean he didn't even go through his rebellious teenager phase. Everyone goes through that at some point.)

I suppose I could have asked the Boss. Oh, let's just forget the fact that Lucy's been known to incinerate people for even breathing wrong. (Even though he couldn't do that to me, I would still miss his lemon pie. It was delicious.) I'll totally sit down and tell the Devil that I've been snooping through the List. Sure it was my job, but technically it was to just write down the names and scram. Or you know, I could've just forgot the whole thing and everything's peachy.

But for the sake of an interesting story, I didn't. And now for the drama. This is the story... of how I died. (Well technically I was just curious, and I was already dead, but it sounds more dramatic that way, don't you think?) *dramatic crescendo overlapped by the sounds of screams and pain*