Sorry this is so much later than the last one; I overestimated my ability to post while at Uni. I should be able to stabilise my updating to about this time now, though.


03/10/18: Come And See

It didn't come in the way you might have expected. There was no horned demon, nor was there a man of wealth and taste. Instead, standing at the door of her bedroom, his arm outstretched, was a pale woman in a white dress, highlighted by a glowing white aura. She looked the part of the stereotypical angel.

"Hello, Gazlene," she said softly, "I am the Devil."

Gaz blinked, tilting her head.

"You don't look like it," she said, crossing her arms.

"Looks can be deceiving," replied the Devil.

"What do you want?" demanded Gaz.

"I think the better question is, what do you want?"

The Devil smiled.

"Gazlene, I've made a little wager," she said, "You see, you've been marked for my abode for years now. A… friend thinks you can be redeemed. So we're going to play a game."

She held out a small, silver pocket watch, permanently frozen at seven minutes to midnight.

"I offer you fortune," she said, "In exchange, others will experience severe… misfortune. Everything you are granted will cause global misery and destruction, until the second hand strikes twelve…"

"And when that happens?" asked Gaz.

"Look up the seven seals," replied the Devil, "It may give you some idea."

She smirked.

"I sense you don't believe me," she said, "Perhaps you ought to give it a try. If you use all seven wishes, of course… I win the bet."

"And what is the bet?" demanded Gaz.

The Devil turned to walk away.

"That is my own business," she replied, "Have fun, Gazlene."

With that, she vanished into the dark night.


It certainly seemed a waste to use the first wish on a sandwich or a video game, even if she was a little hungry. So she went a little bigger; an infinitely refilling cooler and a video game console with every game imaginable.

The minute hand ticked over.

Two days later, an election was held. The world stood in silent shock as the expected outcome failed to materialise; the smiling, almost snarling face of Vlad Masters appeared on every television, celebrating his unexpected victory. Two short months later, he was riding to his inauguration in a white Mustang car.

Within weeks, an incident had occurred on the Iraq-Iran border. It was enough of a pretext for what President Masters called 'decisive military action' - US Marines were landing on the Iranian coast before the week was out. The news was filled with terrible images of war - bombers over Tehran, tank battles in the desert, massive protests in just about every major city.

The requirement for new and better weapons kept Professor Membrane in his lab more than ever before. Gaz and Dib now effectively fended for themselves. Gaz, of course, could eat whatever she wanted whenever she wanted - but she wasn't about to share with her brother.

One night she found Dib in front of the TV, watching a news broadcast.

"...President Masters has announced that the vigilante Danny Phantom is officially outlawed, and a federal manhunt is now underway to bring him in…"

"None of this makes sense!" exclaimed Dib, "Masters was trailing by eight points in the election! There's gotta be a… an outside force, like, I dunno, molemen or something! Election-tampering molemen!"

"You're an idiot," grunted Gaz, heading off to her room.

"Okay, maybe not molemen!" Dib shouted after her, "But it's gotta be something!"

Gaz pulled the watch from her pocket, thinking to herself for a moment. Her wish had now killed thousands and disrupted the lives of countless more. Perhaps she should be more careful in future.

No. The misfortune was befalling other people. Why should she care?


A man accidentally shut an elevator before she could get in. Such an act could not go unpunished, and she therefore wished unending torment upon him. She never heard from him again, so she assumed it worked.

The minute hand ticked over.

Three days later, a Chinese supply ship exploded in the Gulf of Tonkin. China blamed Vietnam, the US backed Vietnam, Russia backed China, and before long it was all on. Russian forces were smashing through Poland, Hong Kong turned into a battlefield, and World War III was well underway.

President Masters announced the largest recruitment drive in history. Dozens of older teens vanished from the streets, forced into uniform. Dib, who was nearing that age, was starting to get very nervous. Gaz was tempted to use a wish to get him conscripted earlier, but she figured it was better to just let time deal with that.

The war never went nuclear - perhaps because nuclear armageddon would cause Gaz just as much misfortune as everyone else - but the destruction was immense. Yesterday there was a massive air raid on Bucharest; today, a full battalion of US soldiers was reported wiped out. The news anchor was blaring on and on about this 'Delmarva Battalion' and how it was a massive tragedy for a bunch of one horse towns on the other side of the country - who the hell cares, Gaz thought.

Dib was watching it religiously, still trying to work out how the world went wrong. He sat directly in front of the TV, taking notes.

"...of the so-called 'Beach City Company', there are only two known survivors, Corporal Buck Dewey and Private Jeff Brooks. The question must be raised - why did President Masters think it was a good idea to put the entire working age population of a small town in the same unit? Could he have not foreseen the…"

"This is bad," Dib muttered to himself, "This… this is apocalyptically bad…"

Gaz shrugged and left him to his own devices. She was alright, so who really cared?


The sound of warplanes and cruise missiles all through the night irritated Gaz, and thus her third wish was to soundproof her room. The roar of engines stopped, and she slept peacefully once more.

The minute hand ticked over.

President Masters' first state of the union address came with the announcement of large-scale rationing of all food items. Long lines were soon forming for bread and meat - but far worse was to come.

In March, Mount St. Helens erupted again. The ash cloud was blown east, across the American heartland - ninety percent of the country's crop yield failed. America now relied on imports, which often fell prey to enemy submarines. Large parts of the nation fell into famine as the big cities like New York and Chicago swallowed up every ounce of available food. It was no better anywhere else on Earth.

As the months wore on, Dib became thinner and thinner, but Gax ate as well as she ever had. Dib wasn't stupid, of course - he took note.

"How come you're not going hungry?" he asked one day, as he carefully divided his half loaf of sawdust-bread into equal portions for the rest of the week.

"I'm not weak, I guess," shrugged Gaz.

"...right, sure," Dib nodded skeptically, "I think I have an idea of what's going on, but if it's true, I…"

"I don't care," snapped Gaz, "I'm going to my room."

She marched off, leaving Dib to his theories.


Gaz grew tired of her education - it was proving a needless distraction from the things that really mattered. A quick wish and a helpful rocket strike later, she no longer needed to travel to that wretched building.

The minute hand ticked over.

Meanwhile in Los Angeles, a man fell ill. He was soon admitted to hospital - from there, his ailment spread to the staff, to other patients, to visitors, to the street…

It spread like wildfire. Nobody knew where it came from, but they certainly knew what it was. It was a nightmare thought lost to history - first the flu-like symptoms, then the horrible purple lumps. It was the return of that most dreaded disease of all - the Black Death.

Panic, dark and visceral, set in. The west coast was quarantined by force of arms, but the plague swept right through. Every city turned into a terrible hell of bodies and rats and fear, and a foul, foul stench stained the air. The war broke down. Everything broke down. The President went underground. The TV went dead.

At least the rockets stopped.

Dib spent nearly every waking moment trying to work out a solution to this world crisis. Gaz almost pitied him - he hadn't the hope of saving anybody, and he really ought to consider himself lucky that she allowed him to rescue even a few. Stragglers from the west were now gathered in Membrane's lab (was he even still alive?), bringing terrible tales of destruction and disease.

Gaz passed Dib as he changed the bandage of a brown-haired girl, shaking and muttering flatly to herself; "why was it him why wasn't it me?"

Dib narrowed his eyes at her but said nothing.

Finally, Gaz thought, he's shut up.


The ongoing apocalypse had put pay to new TV programs, which annoyed Gaz, as all of her favourite gaming shows were now off the air. She wished them back, and episodes appeared from out of thin air. She was content - never mind that the hosts were visibly decaying.

The minute hand ticked over.

The next day, the TV suddenly had signal again. General Thaddeus Ross, dishevelled and wild-eyed, declared that he was now running an emergency government. President Masters, he said, couldn't be found, but some of Cabinet could clearly be seen swaying from nearby lampposts.

US Marines - or at least they called themselves that - marched into the cities and towns, clad in gasmasks and thick rubber gloves. They began to round up 'traitors' and 'heathens' - people they deemed not to have supported the war effort, or helped spread the plague. These were the Hanging Times, and they cut a swathe through an already devastated population.

Dib opened his doors again - they were basically his now, Membrane was gone and Gaz rarely left her room - to those fleeing military persecution. He supposed it was just the right thing to do. In any case, the stories he heard were shocking - a boy forced from his home for 'harbouring magical elements'; a tall person who was legally two people, and considered 'revolting' by the new government; another boy, a boy genius in fact, who was singled out for being too intellectual.

All the time, Dib studied. And eventually, he came to a conclusion…


"Gaz, this has to stop."

Dib stood in his sister's door, his arms crossed.

"What the heck are you talking about?" demanded Gaz, "Get out of here before I throw you…"

"I know about the watch," said Dib.

There was a long silence.

"The wager," said Gaz, "The friend who thought I could be 'redeemed.' That was you."

"In my defence, I never thought she'd give you that," replied Dib, "Gaz, you're opening the seven seals! If you keep that up, you're going to end the entire world!"

"Who cares?" asked Gaz, "The world sucks anyway."

"It doesn't deserve to die!" exclaimed Dib.

Gaz shook her head.

"You know what?" she said, taking out the watch, "I want a soda."

The beverage appeared in her hand.

The minute hand ticked over.

"Gaz!" exclaimed Dib, "What the hell did you do that for?!"

"Seeing you panic is funny," Gaz shrugged.

"But you have no idea what you've…"

He trailed off as he heard the wail. In the distance, he could hear the tone, low at first, then higher and higher, then lower once again - the nightmarish drone of an air raid siren.

"What… what have you done?" he gasped.

"Who cares?" replied Gaz, sipping the soda.

"What… Gaz, you're supposed to be better than this!" shouted Dib, "Sure, you're selfish and more than a little cruel, but this? This? How can you keep doing this when you know what's going to happen?"

"Shut up, Dib," growled Gaz.

"No!" thundered Dib, "Never! I… I can't believe you, Gaz! I had faith in you, and you… and… ARRGH!"

Gaz shook her head.

"You know, I really wish I didn't have to listen to your shrieking all the time," she grumbled.

The minute hand ticked over.

Silence fell. The room became dark, and the air grew noticeably denser. Dib shuddered involuntarily and stepped back, wondering what fresh hell his sister had unleashed.

And then, there came the laughter, soft and gentle, as the Devil appeared in the room. She smiled and extended her hands as she turned towards Gaz.

"Thank you, Gazlene," she said sweetly, "For you have won me my bet."

"Bet?"

Dib paled as he remembered.

"Oh no…"

"Yeah, big deal," grunted Gaz, "What did you win, a pony or something?"

"Gaz… Gaz, I'm so sorry," said Dib, shaking his head in horror.

"Something much greater, actually," replied the Devil, "I won…"

Her eyes turned ink black, as did her dress, and her hair was picked up as if caught in an enormous gust of wind.

"...your soul."

The wall behind Gaz morphed, turning into a gaping, fleshy maw, adorned with rows upon rows of rotting, sharp teeth. A black tongue shot forth, probing the room - deep down in the throat, Dib could see the embers of white hot fire. The stench was indescribable.

The tongue shot out, wrapping Gaz in its putrid grip. She screamed, reaching out for Dib.

"Help me, you idiot!" she roared.

Dib swallowed and shook his head.

"A deal's a deal, Gaz," he replied sadly, "I… I really thought you were better than this, but…"

His voice broke.

"A deal's a deal."

"No! No! I take it back!" screeched Gaz, "I take it all back!"

"Too late, Gazlene," sneered the Devil, "You're about to find out that there are places worse than Hell."

The tongue drew back. Gaz screamed as she was sucked into the gaping maw and towards the fire. The maw closed before she reached the flame, but Dib could still hear the screams of fear transform into shrieks of agony.

Then suddenly, he felt himself falling, down, down, down…


With a thud, Dib felt himself land in front of his laptop.

He shook his head, gazing at the opened news article - Simpson Leads Masters By Eight Points. The date was months ago. Had… had he simply dreamed everything that had happened?

He turned around and saw the Devil behind him.

"Thank you for playing," she said, "That was… rather fun."

"You… you undid the apocalypse?" croaked Dib.

"Your people are too interesting, Dib," shrugged the Devil, "It would be a shame to leave them in ruin."

"Does that mean Gaz…"

"A deal is still a deal, my friend," replied the Devil, "But of course, you can check for yourself."

She smiled.

"I may yet see you again," she said, "It all depends on the life you choose to live."

With that, the Devil vanished from Dib's life.


Two days later, Lisa Simpson defeated Vlad Masters by the expected massive margin. She would go on to broker a historic treaty with Iran.

Within the next few months attempted plot by a militant faction within the People's Liberation Army to cause a war was thwarted, but the shock of the near miss spooked the superpowers into de-escalating tensions. An illegal bubonic plague lab was shut down by the authorities.

All that, of course, was in the future. Now, however, Dib sat in a hospital next to his sister, who stared blankly at the roof. The doctors said she had gone catatonic, and they couldn't tell why.

Dib knew, of course. Gaz' body was there, but her soul had gone to a place so terrible words could not describe it. And the worst part was that he couldn't bring himself to feel bad for her.

"I don't understand it," the nurse said, "Why would she just shut down like that? What happened to her? Did she witness something traumatic, or…"

Slowly, Gaz sat up in her bed, her eyes still blank yet searing into the soul. Her mouth twisted into a warped grin, and she rasped out a simple response.

"Come and see."


AN: Dude, couldn't you have taken Gaz' soul without going through the whole Book of Revelations schtick? Bleedin' Devil makes things too complicated...