Chapter 2

I chuckled as the large red dog, which I had formed by my infernal magic, continued biting Mrs. Fiske repeatedly, while three other demons took turns striking her with cast-iron skillets. I let them keep this up for a good while, of course, though it would soon be time to stop for a little breather. Even demons and devils needed a good smoke break or whatever. Mrs. Fiske was stunned to feel the pain go away for a bit, at which point I waved a mirror in front of her, letting her see that her flesh had grown back after so many dog bites ... for now. Even "Cliff," as I called him, quit biting her for a bit.

"See now ... you've got a break, but don't relax too much. While I won't always supervise your torments, they will resume, whenever necessary and proper ... forever. You won't be free of this suffering for all of eternity. This is Hell, after all, Mrs. Fiske. You're one of the damned now, a lost soul condemned to everlasting suffering and misery. That is your destiny, the one to which you were consigned by a combination of your daily decisions, the ones in favor of cruelty, selfishness, and bigotry. For now, however, go to the washroom and clean up a bit. You stink and I don't like having smelly people around. I'm the chief tormentor, not one of the tormented, after all," I smiled savagely at her, making her shiver in spite of Hell's vaunted heat.

By now, however, Azrael had driven his human host to suicide, and perversely, he also landed in my presence, along with Azrael, too. I never could get Jehovah's logic as to why he dumped certain humans on us. Some didn't really seem to deserve further suffering, and Mr. Fiske was one of those. When Azrael reached for a pitchfork to ram it up the guy's ass, I flew at him with my full might, kicking him back and scratching his face. I wasn't content to torment mortals just because I could. I decided that some changes were in order, and some of that would mean real disappointment to Heaven, but so be it ... What better way to upside Jehovah's will than to carry out my own rough justice here in Hell, away from His dying Son's eyes?

"You, Mr. Martin Fiske, must have been sentenced here for, as I take it, suicide and homicide. Except that you weren't in control of your faculties when you did these things. Ergo, this is not your fault. Heaven's justice can be so unfair at times. So, here's the deal. I'm changing how things are done here in Hell, and I'm starting with you. From now on, whenever a soul is damned by Heaven for whatever offenses he might have committed in its eyes, I will judge that soul on its merits as I see fit, and if I determine that he or she doesn't really deserve torment, you get to live here forever without suffering at all. Well, aside from having to hear the screams, but you tune them out half the time eventually," I announced to all, much to the shock of the others.

"But, Master... ," Azrael griped, before I threw him into a nearby flame, where a poor, naked soul was being roasted.

"We'll make no new recruits and such by simply and mindlessly tormenting everyone sent to us. Go back to Earth for about twenty-five years disguised as a mortal man. Send back reports on your progress. Your job is to experience life as a regular guy. I want to hear from one of us what it's really like for them," I commanded him, sending him upstairs...

"But, Master, how will I make it as a regular guy? I have no job skills," Azrael complained in my mind, before I cut him off.

"Here ... just to be fair, I'll let you have a nice, healthy body. That will give you plenty of options. You'll look like you're twenty or so. On Earth, a healthy young man never lacks for work, even if he has to do porn or fight as a merc or whatever," I assured him, remembering that he was lucky that he hadn't been saddled with asthma like me when I was mortal.

Suddenly feeling some malicious amusement at the prospect, I returned to where I had been before I was landed in Hell, now confident that in the few hours that I was gone, no one would dare to challenge me. The look on Becky's face when she saw me reappear in front of her was utterly priceless, of course. She went absolutely pale, but it was clear that she had been crying, too. Something had really upset her, and now it occurred to her that it was my vanishing. She stepped carefully in my direction, a bit tentative about touching me, especially once my eyes glowed red and my skin turned the same color.

"Simon? Is that you? You look different, Simon ... a lot different. What the bloody hell is going on?" Becky took me in a bit, the whole sight of me ... the ripped, toned body with muscles all over me and crimson flesh covering them, along with the horns and pointed tail ... and hooves.

"Bloody Hell? How fitting!" I coughed.

Becky looked at me as if I had grown a second head, "What's the matter with you, Simon?"

"I'm a Devil, Becky. I've always been a Devil, never a mortal man. In fact, I'm the new King of Hell... ," I confessed to her, much to her shock.

"Oh, bloody bollocks! You're not joshing me, are you? You're the real McCoy ... you're the Devil!" Becky shivered in apparent terror and clutched herself in the fetal position.

"A Devil, not THE Devil, not in the same sense, that is. My name is Asmodeus. Lord Asmodeus to you, in fact. I started out as a fallen angel like the others, but I was Prince of the Incubi for a long time. I know how to make women crave me. That was my specialty," I grinned now, quite wickedly in fact.

"What happened to Satan?" Becky wondered aloud.

"Long story, but he's not running Hell anymore. Meet the new Boss," I laughed heartily.

"Same as the old Boss, no doubt. So ... does this mean that I'm damned? I mean, in all of the stories, you have carnal knowledge of a demon or devil ... that's it. It's a one-way ticket to the Lake of Fire," Becky clearly worried.

"Yeah, I'm afraid that you're already damned to Hell. You're a lost soul and were one the moment that I fucked you. God never liked sin in Heaven and this is a big one. I would say that I hate saying this, but I'd be lying. I will enjoy claiming your soul and making it mine. I will personally drag your soul to the pit with me, taking a special delight in doing so. I will love making you my bitch," I gave Becky a truly evil smile, which frightened her to her core.

"Please ... please ... don't take me to Hell. Please, no... ," Becky now groveled, afraid that I would grab her soul right then and there.

"Sorry, but I thought that I made this clear. God doesn't want you in Heaven now ... well, His Son, I mean. Jehovah Himself suffered a mortal wound, as did Lucifer. Jesus is badly injured, too, so it's likely to be between Michael and me ... and Michael has no time or patience or women like you, or women at all, for that matter. He has more than once told God that he should strike down half the feminists running around in the world, just because they 'have it coming, ' to use his words," I smirked, "I personally think he's a bit of a homo, but definitely a Top. He just hasn't dared to act on it."

"What, angels aren't celibate?" Becky asked with shock.

"They are if they want to stay in Heaven, but the ones that fail ... fall. More than a few new devils come from a failure to keep it in their robes. Not all of the devils and demons were part of the original revolt, in fact," I sneered, recalling when the angel Uriel "defected" by fucking Lilith ... poor guy, it wasn't his fault ... she had taken the form of a local cutie widow in Tyre. He never saw it coming.