Chapter 1:
On one hand, Sherwin had not expected to end things the way he did. He knew people hated him just for who his heart chose, but death? That was out of the question. Yet the fact it was from his own parents made it feel like betrayal. In the end it wasn't worth the hassle though to kill him. It seemed the afterlife was just so…so boring It never ended up being as torturous as it was made out to be.
He was standing in a line of people in a hallway dotted here and there with potted plants, which turned out to be plastic, on closer examination. In front of him stood an old Asian lady wearing a ratty shawl and no shoes, and behind him an eight-year-old boy, he presumed, who somehow managed to look even thinner than himself.
The place was also windowless, which made it all the more monotone. Once in a while, the line would shuffle forward, but that was seldom, and it was the only part of the long wait that was even slightly exciting.
Maybe this was purgatory, Sherwin reflected. He really hoped it was, because this most certainly wasn't Heaven. Even when he tried to speak to the woman in front of him, he was ignored. He then turned to the boy behind him, but likewise got no reaction. They either didn't speak his language, or more likely were completely oblivious to him even being there. Or maybe not, but they may have been lost in their own minds, and it was impolite and somewhat creepy to continue insisting anyhow.
So the boy waited in line, left with his own thoughts. He was worried, of course. Who knew what his fate would be, with all the things that had been wrong or maybe sinful in his short life, and whether they were outweighed by the good he hoped he had done. Would the way he had died impact his judgement? Well, he wouldn't know until he was told, one way or another.
He examined himself. He had no mirror on him, so he wasn't sure how his face looked like, but he could tell he had died in his school uniform. Some bruises were apparent on his stomach when he pulled his shirt up, but they didn't seem as serious as he thought they would. The more alarming thing though was the large stab wound in his stomach from where the knife went in. The edge of his shirt had blood coating it but that was the least of his worries. His face didn't seem to be too bad off, no swelling from what he could tell. Well, that was a small comfort.
There was nothing to inform him of the passing the time, however, so things seemed to drag on for an eternity, which was probably the case, if he were to be honest with himself. That was the thing about purgatory, it was designed to be boring. Instead, he counted the number of potted plants that he passed by, wanting to keep some sort of measure of time, no matter how frivolous it was.
What Sherwin hadn't planned, however, was for this place to not actually be purgatory at all. To his surprise, he could see an end to the corridor, if he peeked his head around the old lady's shoulder. People at the front of the line seemed to be waiting in front of what looked like an office door, the glass pane fitted in the eighties-style door a common sight in the school Sherwin had been going to until recently. Maybe this was judgement? A place where he was evaluated, and sent to heaven or hell depending on his performance?
The thought made him beyond nervous. There were so many sins out there, there were some that were unpreventable, others that no one around him focussed on, and of course the ones he couldn't quite remember, even in this state of panic he was now in. Time, deciding it was the moment to speed things up, brought Sherwin face to face with the office door before he even knew it. He hadn't even noticed the lady, nor any of the other people that were in front of him, in fact, go through the door. Paralysed by fear, he remained motionless, save for his lips, frantically whispering a garbled prayer. Halfway through his prayer, the door opened, and a disapproving voice interrupted Sherwin. "Nothing of the kind will save you now, son."In that moment, the redhead wanted to run, to run as far away from the voice as he could. He wouldn't have been able to explain the sensation, because it was by nature like so, indescribable, as was his sudden and unexplainable urge to step forward through the door.
The door had not been lying. Instead of the expected fireballs or frozen over lake, beyond the old rattly frame was an office, as boring as the hallway that he had walked down. Even if there was something amiss in the room, he probably wouldn't have been able to see it straight away, not with the figure currently occupying his full attention, his very presence sucking all attention to him. So, this was the devil. Looking at him, one could simply tell this was Lucifer, with yet again that weird brain probing feeling that forced one to think of the name unprompted. He had an aura, a charismatic one, and in appearance was quite normal. Almost human esque. Hair as bright as Sherwin's, face gaunt yet still attractive, and no wings or tail to be seen.
Sherwin, as timid as he had always been, hesitated quite a while before sitting in the chair that the man pointed at. Had every single person who had ever died sat in this chair? With a shiver, he lowered himself onto the plastic and metal frame. "It's not lucifer its Mephistopheles" "What?" "Most people tend to think i'm Lucifer but the names really Mephistopheles. Lucifer is actually someone else who works in our H.R. department." wait! Did he just read his mind?
"Yeah I did," he confirmed, smirking all the while. Sherwin gave an incredulous look." Anyway let's see...Sherwin Payne, violent death, pretty clear record… a little bit of lust and envy, but…that's just natural sibling rivalry. Hmm…"He poured over a file set out before him, which no matter how hard he focussed, Sherwin couldn't read. The words were playing around the paper like snakes, and the small window that would have contained his photo alternated between him in his uniform, as a baby, and his current nerdy teenager look. "Interesting… I don't see any major sins that would have brought you here… In fact, with your credentials, you could have easily been promoted to angel by providence… Ah well, must be a mistake, what with all the renovations it makes sense."Whatever he was saying, Sherwin couldn't make sense of it. "A mistake? But… I mean… I just assumed I'd be here anyway, even if I am good and all, I'm still-"
He stopped, swallowing nervously. "-gay." He managed to squeak it out triumphantly overcoming the nervous feeling he had. For the first time since he had entered the office, Mephistopheles looked up from the file set out in front of him. Suddenly, he laughed."Good one, kid! Sexuality was never a sin. Jeez It's the 21 century. I mean we've revamped our standards by now. Anyway that reminds me..."
Mephistopheles stood up. He wasn't any taller or impressive as any other human man that Sherwin had met, but when he got closer, heading to the door behind the boy, he seemed to tower over him, his shadow somehow casting him into darkness that could have been mistaken for dusk if the room had had any windows, that is. The neon lights buzzing overhead shouldn't have had that effect.
Mephistopheles put his hand on the door handle and turned it, pulling it up rather than pushing it down. The glass went from frosted to clear, the similar neon lighting of the hallway changing to what could only be the flicker of flames. "This is a mess," he commented, probably more to himself than to Sherwin. "The bureaucrats and the murderers are at it again." He had been stroking his auburn goatee thoughtfully, before he snapped his fingers, the sound so loud that it startled Sherwin. With a grin, he turned back to his visitor, pushing the handle back in its original position before Sherwin could get a look at what was happening beyond the glass."I think I understand the problem now. It just so happens that the bureaucrats are not quite as concentrated as they should be these days, they probably just messed up your paperwork." As Sherwin's heart sank, Mephistopheles eyes became darker, and his grin wider. "Isn't there… Well… A way to get it fixed?" Sherwin asked. His voice was so small that he doubted the man had heard him. Mephistopheles didn't answer, but instead swept past him to sit back at his desk.
"No. Now that you're here heaven would think you were corrupted."
He couldn't help it. He had been so close, had died for something that wasn't even a sin (if Mephistopheles was to be trusted in that respect), and was now stuck in Well…Hell. It wasn't something that he was going to take very well no matter the circumstances, but… This wasn't fair. Of course, the thought passed his mind that this could all be a huge trick.
"Now enough chit-chat, I need to get that case file for you…" There was a drawer at the back of the room, an old fashioned, rattly thing that reminded Sherwin all too much of the one in which his adoption file had been in. Why potential foster parents had to know every single detail about the kid from the second they were taken into the system, he did not know. Miserably, he wondered if his homosexuality would have been recorded in the same plain file, if ever he had somehow survived the battering that he had been subjected to.
"Probably," Mephistopheles answered, which made Sherwin jump and try to quiet his thoughts. Mephistopheles returned to the task that was retrieving the case file he had been looking for. With a flick of his wrist, he pulled on the drawer handle, the whole thing rolling out on its rails way further than any other drawer would."Ah, I knew it wasn't too deep in," he exclaimed, pulling another yellow file out. "Well, I guess I do consult this a lot."
The redhead's file was soon covered and hidden under the one that the man had pulled out. With deft hands, looking like white spiders to the boy, he flicked through the pages, pulling one out and handing it to Sherwin."Now this demonary position I'm going to give you is very important. Your assignment is Jonathan Sharma. Your job is to make him commit suicide. You may haunt, torment, pester or do anything necessary to achieve this. You get weekends off though so it's not all work. Even though you don't belong here you still get the job because surprisingly we just don't seem to have enough demons. Now, off you go."
Sherwin felt his stomach rise to his mouth, his whole body floating for a second or so, before the scene brusquely changed and he fell to the floor. He was now on a small street that he didn't recognise. He was about to freak out, when he looked at his hand holding the paper. It was milky and transparent. He got up, took a step back, but he was floating. Some higher power had to be on his side. Maybe. Or the Devil. Nevertheless, he was safe. With trembling hands, he started to read his assignment.