Hostile Work Environment

Hostile Work Environment

by John Willems

John Willems is a practicing attorney in West Virginia with a wife, Rachel, and two sons, Francis and Tony. He has published short stories with Tall Tale TV and Synthetic Reality Magazine and a novella called Beer Run with Solstice Publishing. His story ‘Hostile Work Environment’ was originally published by Quagmire Magazine.

More TTTV Stories by John Willems

 

A group of demons walked into the nondescript conference room, taking their places around the plain, rectangular table with educational materials. They flipped through the materials with their claws and tentacles with a lazy ennui. Belial looked at them from behind the projector and grimaced. Why did he always have such a tough crowd? One of the little mongrels chewed on the printout of Belial’s PowerPoint presentation. Time to get things started before Belial completely lost their attention.

“Good morning, fellow demons,” Belial said, coming out from behind the projector screen. The title of his presentation (Possessing Humans: Just Say No) colored in red stood out from the green, yellow, and purple background he chose to inspire a sense of nausea in his audience. The eyes of the wicked co-workers turned to him for a split second and then wandered off to other places in the room: the materials, the screen, the clock on the wall, the boxed lunches he had ordered from Jimmy John’s (“Hell’s favorite sandwich shop!”). Belial snapped his fingers, and flames burst out from underneath the chairs. The demons squealed as their bottoms were roasted by the hellfire he had summoned.

“Thank you for your undivided attention,” Belial said. “Do you know why we are here today?”

One of the demons raised his rubbery, bat-like wing in the air, and Belial pointed to it.

“Because Abalam got caught.”

“Yes, we discovered that Abalam possessed a human,” Belial said, ignoring his colleague’s imprecise phrasing. “And that is very bad.”

Belial made his most threatening scowl, one that would kill any mortal who dared gaze upon it. His co-workers blew raspberries and snickered at him under their venomous breaths. Working in Demonic Resources could be difficult at times, Belial mused to himself. You are dealing with a self-selecting group of rebellious angels who inspire man’s worst instincts and motivations. Perhaps he should have listened to his uncle and gone into Human Resources, where the souls of damned humans were mined for traces of the divine light for the Dark Lord to consume.

“Does anyone here know why it is bad?” Belial asked.

“Because Satan’s a killjoy,” said a demon with twenty eyes over his body, and he was rolling all of them at once.

The rest of the demons in the room openly chuckled. Short-sighted as always, Belial thought. He pressed a symbol on the palm of his bright red hand, and the Pentagram thereon shone brightly. A portal appeared beneath the jokester, and from it emerged the head of a massive, red dragon. The great beast swallowed the offending demon in one massive gulp and then withdrew back into the portal. The other fiends stopped chuckling.

“Mammon will have to retake this course after Master’s pet finishes digesting him and he comes out the other end,” Belial said. “I plead with the rest of you to take this seriously. Now, I ask again, why do we not possess humans?”

The other fallen angels stared blankly at him. Belial scanned their facial expressions for some sign that an answer was emerging from their darkened intellects. Alas, none seemed forthcoming. Belial hit the control for the projector, and the screen now displayed a quote from Satan, the Dark Lord i.e., the boss.

“Unfortunately, we have not yet been able to make humans that are both materialists and sorcerers, though success is expected any day now. Assessing mankind’s current environment, we must conceal our existence, as in this age, disbelief is a better strategy than direct intimidation.”

Belial recited the quote word for word, while the demons yawned in boredom. He then turned and addressed his audience directly.

“It is often said that the Devil’s greatest accomplishment is convincing the world he didn’t exist. It’s a lot harder with you load of morons going around and possessing every silly human with a Ouija board.”

“But they’re asking for it!”

The offending fiend, a large, hairy bipedal beast with sharp teeth and claws, cried in pain as Belial sent a round of electricity through his diabolical body. The smell of burnt fur pervaded the room as the interrupter fried. Belial finally relented and continued.

“Another comment like that, and you’ll all be joining Mammon for lunch,” Belial said. “Getting back on track, let’s address that attitude there. Are humans who summon demons often asking to be possessed? Some are, given our reputation, but most often they are trying to bargain their souls for money, honor, or pleasure.”

Belial clicked the PowerPoint again, which shifted to a workflow chart. At the top of the chart was a hypothetical human female “Tabitha.” The text below explained that Tabitha, a sixteen-year-old girl, likes to dabble in spells and potions, which she finds in spellbooks available at the local bookstore next to the Hot Topic. Next, Tabitha decides to summon a demon to get the attention of the boy in Algebra II who set his cat on fire and has a tongue stud. Beneath this explanation are two paths. In the first path, a hypothetical demon, named “Legion,” the demonic equivalent of John Smith, appears and possesses Tabitha.

“Tabitha has a hellish experience, as Legion forces her to eat rotted fruit, twists her limbs and spine around in unnatural ways, and drags her body across the floors, walls, and ceilings.”

The demons formed an infernal cheering section, hooting and hollering with flair as they went down the workflow chart recounting all of the horrible things Legion made Tabitha do, complete with pictures.

“So horrible, that Tabitha’s parents call for a priest, who expels Legion,” Belial said. “Tabitha, shaken by this experience, goes to a convent after college and dedicates her life to serving the poor.”

The first path ended with a series of pictures of Tabitha, dressed in a nun’s habit, teaching African school children to read, followed by an arrow pointing to the words “Salvation,” which Belial circled with his laser pointer.

“However, in this second path, where Legion chooses to show restraint and not possess Tabitha, she gradually learns that magic cannot give her the results she desires,” Belial said. “So, the desire for carnal pleasure and power over others remains, but our Dark Lord below directs it to more productive ends.”

The second path showed Legion using hell-approved methods of temptation: silently putting thoughts of lust or greed into the mind at the right time, pointing out the flaws of others, flattery of the target to inflame a sense of pride, and encouraging the target to spend lots of time pondering why good things happened to bad people, all which Legion could do without revealing himself. In this path, Tabitha goes to law school after college, making partner, and using the intern pool as her personal playground. Tabitha represents big corporations in their never-ending quest of tax evasion and covering up illegal practices. Tabitha wins a case at the Supreme Court that allows one of her clients to dump toxic waste near a daycare center without any repercussions. The end of the flow chart showed Tabitha being drug into the eternal fire by the blackened hands of Satan’s minions. Belial turned around and found that his audience was already asleep. Belial banged his fist on the table to wake them all up.

“What have we learned?” Belial asked.

“Tempting humans the right way sucks.”

“Now, now, it isn’t fair to say it sucks. It requires you to constantly attend to the target to distract it from any quest for ultimate meaning and buffer it from any serious feelings of remorse for its actions. That requires a lot of thankless work, and it can be undone at any moment.”

“Boring, boring, boring,” the throng chanted.

Belial pressed another spot on his palm. A horde of poisonous snakes appeared beneath the demons’ seats. The serpents reached up and dug into the thighs and buttocks of the demonic mockers, who moaned and cried in pain as venom raced through their fleshy infernal bodies. After thirty seconds, Belial relented again. The snakes disappeared in a puff of smoke. Belial then shifted the PowerPoint. This time, the screen displayed a video player, currently on stop.

“Let’s do a hypothetical,” he said.

Belial started the movie, which began with graphic effects straight from the late 1980s. The sound of soft jazz blared from the speakers. The scene opened on a dingy basement where a thin, curvy woman with red hair, dressed in a tight black dress and pointy hat, chanted made-up Latin in the middle of a Pentagram composed of glitter and Elmer’s Glue. Her tone was so wooden, it was as if Tommy Wiseau was cast to play an oak tree. Belial sighed. The acting in these videos ranged from abominable to mediocre. And with all the Hollywood and Broadway actors in hell, you would think Satan could do better.

A puff of smoke and glitter appeared. A clearly visible demon actor with lizard scales walked in from stage left and entered the cloud of cheap effects. As the particles dispersed around the demon actor, it revealed he was looking directly into the camera. The “Witch” actress giggled and then began to speak.

“Oh my! A real demon! I’ve always wanted to see a real demon. Take me, you beast!”

Belial stopped the video and turned to the demon group. The fiends were already drooling over themselves at the sight of the human actress opening her arms, and other limbs, wide to the demon.

“Now, can someone tell me what’s already gone wrong?”

“Yeah, what’s he waiting for?”

Clearly, Belial wasn’t making the impression it should have. He clapped his hands, and all the demons suddenly found themselves encased in blocks of ice. That would at least stop them from snickering and put an end to dumb responses.

“It appears participation will not be productive this session. The correct answer was that our demon here should never have appeared to a human to begin with.”

Belial started the movie again. The demon proceeded to jump down the human’s throat. She stripped naked and danced around a bonfire. Then a priest showed up and expelled the demon. The scene ended with the Witch getting married to a nice Mormon boy and the demon being slowly dropped into a vat of molten magma.

“Now, that’s a reminder that in hell, getting fired means a little more than it does on Earth. You know, we actually dropped the demon actor into that pit for the sake of realism. That and his acting sucked. This reminds me, I have a very special message for you as you thaw out.”

The ice cubes surrounding the demons were indeed melting, such that they could hear the audio clearly. Belial clicked the controller again and the screen now contained an audio file player. He hit play, and a familiar voice played through the sound system.

“Hello, this is Lucifer, your Dark Lord and Malevolent Leader.”

The demons tried to clap politely, but the ice wasn’t completely gone and their movement was limited.

“I’m here to remind you that witches are brides of Satan!”

A chord of ominous music played. The lights flickered in response to this declaration of union between the Dark Lord and his vicious brides. The vibration of a thunderclap rattled through the floors.

“Notice I said brides of Satan, not brides of Moloch or Baal or Dagon. So, hands off my witches, bitches. If I catch you touching them, I’ll make you wish you were human.”

The demons groaned in disgust at the very thought of being like the bipedal flesh bags.

“Possessing humans makes it more difficult for us to win souls for Me, and it could very well end your career as a soldier in my hellish crusade. You won’t be able to stick around for long, and you could very well endanger the work your colleagues do every day to make the world a little bit worse. Just say no to possession.”

The audio ended.

“Well, there you have it,” Belial said. “Direct orders from the big man himself. Now, you are required to take an oath not to possess any humans from this day forward. The text of the oath is in the back of your materials. Please raise your left hand, tentacle, tongue, fang, or other appendage in the air, and repeat after me.”

Belial blasted them with fire, melting the remainder of the ice. After a moment of recovery, the demons did find the oath in their materials and held their upper left limbs in the air, two or three if they had them.

“I pledge not to possess, harass, or reveal myself to any member of the human race for any purpose, whether business or pleasure. I will not appear if summoned, and I will not attack if provoked. I will tempt them down the left-hand path. I will confuse and befuddle. I will debase and enrage, but I shall not engage in any direct attack on any human to which I am assigned.”

The demons mumbled the pledge unenthusiastically. Belial caught one of them crossing his talons behind his back and forced him to recite the pledge again, after cutting the talons off. Once they completed the seminar, a scream of despair sounded over the intercom, telling the fiends that it was time for them to go back to work. After they left the room, Belial breathed out with relief. Done for the day.

He turned off the projector, packed up his laptop, and took one of the remaining Turkey Toms. He then retired to his quarters, where Griselda, a smoking hot strawberry blonde dressed in a red nightgown, waited for him while holding a full wine glass in one hand and his loafers in the other.

“I made your favorite, baby,” she said. “There’s a human heart in the oven and I’ve got a side of penne cooked in this sangria I discovered in the victim’s chest cavity. Then, maybe you could…come into me again?”

Griselda giggled and took a swig of the blood before offering Belial a glass. He lifted her chin with his finger and smiled on her.

“You know, today I had to lecture a bunch of fiends to stay away from girls like you,” Belial said.

“Good thing my ‘husband,’ as he calls himself, isn’t as omniscient as he likes to think,” Griselda said, planting a kiss on Belial’s lips. “When are you taking over?”

“Oh, baby, believe me, any day now,” Belial said. “You’re looking at the future king of hell.”

Griselda cocked her left eye at him.

“You wouldn’t lie to me, would you?”

“Never baby!”

At this moment, Griselda snapped her fingers. Suddenly, a bright light emanated from her curvy body. Belial closed his eyes and groaned. If this was what he thought it was…bummer. Belial opened his peepers slowly and found, standing before him, he that was both the Prince of Darkness and the Bearer of Light: Lucifer, appearing as an angel, albeit with black wings and blood leaking out the sides of his mouth and eyes. A moment of silence passed between them.

“So…” the Dark Lord began. “Tell me again about how you’re the future king of hell.”

Belial weighed his words carefully. How to minimize time in the pit?

“I don’t suppose it would help me if I told you I was just lying so I could stuff her?” Belial asked.

“I figured that much,” Satan said. “No, it won’t help you.”

“Alright,” Belial sighed. “What are you going to do to me?”

“The punishment should fit the crime,” Satan said. “Open up wide.”

“You want to possess me?”

“No, but they do.”

Satan took a dark bottle out of his pocket. Belial squinted his eyes to see the insides, only to find the damned soul of the actual Griselda, along with five of his other victims. Hmmm…turnabout is fair play. Belial opened his mouth and Satan uncorked the bottle and poured the contents down Belial’s throat. He felt the lost souls slide down his throat like a cough syrup made of pure sin. As the souls within him came alive, they scratched and bit at his insides, tearing his demonic body to shreds from the inside out. As he doubled over in pain, Belial began to feel something else: pleasure. He could feel his libido come alive as his former lovers and victims took him apart piece by piece. It was the ultimate stimulation.

“Oh baby,” Belial moaned.

“I’ll leave the seven of you alone,” Satan said, walking out of the room. “It’s no wonder I can’t maintain discipline. These younger demons are gluttons for punishment.”

“Yes, yes, yes!!” Belial cried, holding his sides. “It hurts so good!”