The house of Asmodeus

Chapter 1

The one and only.…

Impatiently, Ozzie bobbed his leg and stared out the window of the stretch limousine that drove him through the streets of his city.

By day, the Lust Rings capital looked relatively bland and uninviting. All the neon club and bar signs were off, liquor corpses paved the paths and a recent rainstorm made the asphalt shine wet and slippery.
Yes, definitely uninviting. Like so many cities in the seven rings of hell. The true charm of his city laied in the night, when spotlights lit up the violett sky and when music filled the air. Music and the stimulating moans of his guests …

The thought made Ozzie's mouth twitch briefly, but it wasn't enough for a grin. The reason for his trip was far too unpleasant for that, and yes, he confessed, he, Asmodeus, prince and ruler of the Lust Ring and embodiment of lust, didn't even feel like participate in the upcoming meeting with Mammon, prince of the Greed Ring.

But as Mammon was - no time for anything, certainly not for pleasure, just money here and then on to the next - he had cited him, HIM, in his own domain, to his own factory, to discuss some contract clause. The sheer oozing audacity behind this summon was already souring Ozzie's mood, but he knew Mammon wouldn't let up until Ozzie met with him. So he had given in and agreed to the meeting. He already guessed what it was about ...

Again he looked out of the darkened windows and recognized in not too far distance thick white smoke clouds, which screwed themselves lazily to the sky and had hovered some time ago over the whole city. Fortunately, Ozzie's little faithful birds were fluttering around everywhere, always keeping him up to date, and had already told him about the 'accident' in the west of the city.
Accident. Tse, fuck that. Ozzie suspected that once again something had gone wrong in the lousy circus that Mammon had insisted opening in his town. The little shit really did snitch on everyone when it came to expanding his entertainment business. By now, Mammon's establishments were sprouting up in every single one of the seven rings of hell. Like annoying mold that you couldn't get rid of and that kept spreading unbidden. And just like mold, everything around it went bad if it wasn't taken care of properly.

No wonder many of Mammon's circuses and amusement parks went belly up. Opening as many as possible, making as much money as possible and then neglecting everything. Really a shame, because Ozzie was open to any kind of amusement. It was in his nature. That's why he had agreed to Mammon's contract back than. Especially since there was a not inconsiderable percentage in it for him.

If he had known that he would only have trouble with the bastard, he would have thought twice. But to refuse Mammon anything was impossible, especially since the little bitchy Jester-demon could get very nasty. But well, just as it was in Ozzie's nature to celebrate any kind of pleasure, Mammon, prince and ruler of the Greed Ring, just celebrated profit. There was no point in getting upset about it.
That's exactly why Ozzie didn't feel like going to this meeting, because he already knew how it would go. Mammon would blather on without a dot or comma until Ozzie drifted into a mental coma, and out of boredom he would respond to his suggestions and grandiose ideas. Same as always.
Sighing, he shook his head and as the roofs of his factory came into view at the end of the street, an annoyed groan escaped him.

This could become really cheerful .…

It had been a while since Ozzie had paid a visit to his factory, and as the artificial smell of chemicals and platics hit his nose, he shuddered.

Ah yes, his good old factory. A small but fine little gold mine that filled him with pride.
He was here too seldom, only when he was signing off a new product that was going into production and he had to discuss the final details with the designers. All in all, though, the whole thing was a no-brainer. Fortunately, because dealing with bureaucracy and all the paperwork bored him. There were employees for that sort of thing.

Employees who were head over heels as soon as he stepped through the gates of his factory. He had announced his visit in advance, and it didn't take a minute for the head of the factory, an Imp, like almost all the employees in the factory, to walk up to him. He performed a sensuous formal bow before giving Ozzie a striking smile.

"Your Highness! What an honor to welcome you here today! Please, please! Come in. How can we serve you?" He made an effort to gain Ozzie's goodwill, but Ozzie waved it off, not in the mood for shenanigans. At least not today. If only he could remember what the little guy's name was. Obviously he hadn't made a lasting impression, or Ozzie would have remembered his name. But he did a good job, and that was enough.

Sighing, Ozzie waved his hands and reminded himself not to take his bad mood out on his employees. If he followed one principle, it was that employees remained loyal if he kept them happy, and that required a certain amount of respect and courtesy. Sometimes, at least.

"Well, if that's not a friendly greeting I'll be damned! But as sorry as I am, my little friend, I don't have time for smalltalk", he spoke with angelic tongues and leaned down to the small creature, placing a finger under his chin. "Tell me, has my guest arrived yet?"

Hastily, the Imp nodded, swallowing noticeably, which was enough to elicit a grin from Ozzie. How easy it were to wrap the Imps around his finger. Which was no mean feat, either. Ozzie knew about his charisma, with which he could wrap everyone around his finger. A blessing, but sometimes a curse.

Without further words they made their way to the main office, which Ozzie used to take a quick look at the production halls, which were located to the right and left of a long corridor. Quite a few Imps and Sucubi were working on the machines and computers and at first glance everything was running like clockwork. The focus of the factory was, of course, on the production of sex toys and everything about the pleasure of the body. But relatively innocent things were also made here. Toys, electronic devices, whatever the heart desired. For lust was characterized by many things and the mere thought of the pleasure that his customers and the inhabitants of his ring had with his products made him grin disreputably.

After a good hundred meters, they finally reached the main office at the end of the corridor, which ended in a round room with many doors - all without Ozzie stepping on any of the Imps - something that happened to him more often and which made in the companyaccident-free today.
"Lord Mammon is already expecting you, Your Highness!", announced the Imp who had greeted him, bowing deeply before pulling open the door to the office. No easy task for the little guy, all the doors in the factory had been adjusted to Ozzie's size. After all, he was twice as tall as normal demons.
He decided to give the gnome a hand by kicking the door in with one of his heavy boots, causing it to swing open. The Imp jumped and grinned nervously.

"P-please. Step right in!"

Ozzie didn't need to be told twice. Head held high, he marched into the main office, where a wide grin studded with razor-sharp gold teeth awaited him.

"Hey, hey, hey, Asmodeus! My friend! My homie! My brother from another mother, how are you?" He was immediately greeted and a hand slapped his back amicably. However, Ozzie contorted his face. He shuddered at this greeting.

"By Satan, spare me with this ghastly drivel. It's horrible! You sound like a complete idiot. Like that overlord from Pride who didn't hear the shot. What was the name of that fucking snake again ...?"
His guest, however, didn't move a muscle and just shrugged his shoulders, spread his arms and laughed in an insincere manner.

"As always, you're the party pooper. Take it easy. I thought you were always up for a good laugh." With that Mammon sat down on the large sofa in the extravagantly furnished office and made himself comfortable, lighting a cigar and inhaling deeply before exhaling. The smoke burned in Ozzie's eyes, but he didn't lower his guard. That thing only revealed one thing: it was cheap and clearly showed that Mammon had absolutely no taste and no class. Something Ozzie was very particular about. Mammons outfit alone was a turn-off. An old-fashioned Jester- outfit, in dull green colors. The same color as the money he loved so much. Neat, but neither sexy nor did it speak of personality. Pragmatic was the word Ozzie was looking for. Around his neck Mammon wore a black collar that fell over his shoulders, with small bells attached to the ends that jingled with every move. What caught everyone's attention, however, was the large jester's cap on his head that ended in three points. Everything about him screamed court jester, though he had long left that image behind. He had not performed for eons. His focus was entirely on buisness and the money he could make with it and his jokes could be deadly.

Dissatisfied, Ozzie stayed at the door and crossed his arms, watching Mammon sprawl on the sofa and cross his legs. Oh, he hated that stupid fuss. The guy acted like he owned the whole world.

"So," Ozzie finally began, not wanting to drag this out unnecessarily. "Why do I have the honor of being quoted by you into my own factory?", he asked saccharinely, to which Mammon raised an eyebrow.

"Oh someone's pissed. What's the matter? Did that hoe, or whoever you fucked last night, not got you off or why the foul mood?" Provocatively Mammon grinned at him, but Ozzie returned that grin. He could lash it out, too. Especially since Mammon did not upset him with such sayings.

"It wasn't one, it were three. And strictly speaking, they were all guys and they were exquisite. What ruins my mood is a morning wake-up call from a clown who has made it into my domain and now seems to have swallowed his tongue rather than speak out. But I do know a trick or two to get rid of the gag reflex so that everything flows better. Just in case you're interested."

Now it was Mammon who made a face. Apparently he had realized that he couldn't get under Ozzie's skin with lewd jokes and that this hasty meeting had clearly missed the mark. He sat up and raised his hands placatingly, shaking his head.

"Okay, okay. I got it. You're right. Wasn't a fine move on my part. But you gotta understand, buddy, I got a lot on my plate. I have so much business going on ...Busy, busy, busy! I didn't have time to call your management first to get an audience in a thousand years."

"Well, you're here now. So spit it out."

"If you're into it, please. The quick number then." With that, Mammon stood up and walked towards him. "The thing is ...it's complicated, buddy. Actually, I want something from you. Something from your factory, that's why we're here."

Ozzie frowned.

"You want something from me? What? Like pay off your debt?"

At the words debt and pay off, Mammon's eyes twitched and he took a step back.

"What?"

So that's what it was like. That son of a bitch wanted to throw the matter under the bus, but Ozzie didn't play into that. Although, actually, he did. Except he was playing Mammon's game.

"I'm guessing you're here because of that accident in your lousy circus. The whole thing burned down, I heard. And a couple of houses and blocks around it."

Doubting Mammon opened his mouth, but said nothing and looked to the side, caught. He really was a fool if he thought Ozzie was going to give him a free pass. Shaking his head, he bent down to Mammon, which didn't hurt his back as much as talking to an Imp, because Mammon, like any of the Princes of Hell, was a little taller than average.

"So? That's certainly what you want to do, isn't it? Buddy? After all, I leased you the place in perfect condition. Now it's all junk," Ozzie drilled on, to which Mammon forced himself to smile and shook his head.

"No. That's not why I'm here. But now that you mention it! Of course I was going to compensate you! Did anyone say anything different? If so, that would be an impertinence! I would never think of betraying you! On my honor!" Exaggeratedly, Mammon clutched his chest, but Ozzie wasn't buyingit. Big mouth, nothing behind it, as the saying went. Ozzie should have known better.

"I sure hope so. After all, the damage is done in my ring and someone has to clean up the mess."

"Of course, of course. Don't worry about it, my friend! I ... I just wanted to wait until the actual damage was calculated so I could present the facts. You know. A contract is a contract is a contract and you have to abide by the clauses!"

Ozzie rolled his eyes and spared a comment. He doubted that Mammon hadn't long ago worked out the amount he owed him. He was just stalling for time. Basically, Ozzie was relatively indifferent to the stupid circus and the damage caused in the accident. However, complaints would come from the residents and dissatisfied residents were unsatisfied residents and there was no such thing in his ring!

"Whatever. Why are you here?" He left it at that for now, which caused Mammon to relax and start grinning broadly again. He reached into his pants pocket, half his arm disappearing into it and not a second later he pulled out a briefcase. He had to have a black hole or some other dimension in his pockets, which gave Ozzie ideas. You could certainly do a lot of things in a small pocket dimension.

Mammon, on the other hand, walked over to the wide mahogany desk and slammed his briefcase onto it, beginning to spread documents out on the desk.

"I want to buy something from you. Of course from 's what we're here for! This is your ring, here's your factory, so you're supposed to make it and your products are the best!"

Ozzie snorted at Mammon's attempt to butter him up. On the other hand, there was a spark of truth in it. Mammon also owned some factories, but their quality left much to be desired.

"I'm glad we agree on that", Ozzie chirped smugly and Mammon gave him a withering look. Then he looked at his papers again, pulled out a document and literally threw it in Ozzie's face.

"I want you to make something for me. And I want it to be exactly like it's written there. Can you get it done?"

Highly focused, Ozzie peeled the documents from his face, trying hard not to just step on Mammon and flatten him. Disinterested, he skimmed the document and frowned. It was blueprints for an electronic prosthetic arm. Not very complicated, but highly unusual. A glance at the cost and material breakdown, however, told him that the whole thing wouldn't last with Mammon wanting the cheapest of the cheap.

"What do you need that for?"

"That curious? Answer my question first. Can your employees handle it, or should I turn to someone else?"

Ozzie snorted.

"Of course. But that thing won't last very long, though. I give your design a few months and it falls apart. Hence the question. What do you need it for? If you want it to last, you need other materials." With that, Ozzie handed the document back to Mammon, who ground his jaw.

"Other materials mean more money."

"Yes, but also sustainability."

"That's overrated!"

"If you say so. But then I don't manufacture it. My factory only makes quality products and I don't want that to reflect on me. So either rework that one or go somewhere else, sweetheart."

"But finding someone else will take too long, and time is money."

"Your loss."

Mammon cursed and reached for a calculator that was in his pocket. Like a wild one, he began typing away on it, eyeing the document over and over, muttering to himself as if he were reciting an incantation.

"All right, all right ... Have it your way. We'll do it your way, then. But this thing better deliver what you promise. Otherwise I'll sue you!"

Laughing, Ozzie threw his head back. Really unbelievable, this clown! There he was, wanting something from him and threatening him in the same breath.

"Sure, do that. Now will you finally tell me what you're going to do with it? There are a lot of things to consider in production. So, who is it for?"

"That would be me."

Ozzie jumped and banged his head on the ceiling as a voice sounded behind him.

To his astonishment, standing right behind him next to the door was a demon! Tall for his kind, slim, with an attractive face. Judging by his outfit - which was not unlike Mammon's - he had to be a Jester demon as well or perhaps a Sucubus in a Jester costume.

Either way, Ozzie hadn't noticed him. How long had he been standing there? And who the fuck was he? Anyway, despite his handsome face, he sounded like he'd been run over at some point ... and in an attempt to help, the driver had backed up and run him right over again. Like a rusty coffin nail! Although sexy. An unusual mixture.

The little demon grinned broadly at Ozzie, tilting his head far back. He showed not a hint of respect or awe. Instead, he wore the same smug grin on his face as Mammon, showing him his amazingly pointed teeth. And - and this was the most striking thing about him - he had only one arm.

Ozzie frowned in confusion.

"And who would that be?", he asked, turning to Mammon. "Do you have a son now or what?"

Before Mammon could answer a rasping laugh came from the little jester-demon. It was hideous - and Ozzie thought it was awesome.

"That Fucker wishes he was cool enough to be my dad", the demon chuckled, which actually threw Ozzie off. How disrespectfully he spoke about the Prince of Greed impressed him, but also made him doubt his sanity, as Mammon seemed anything but amused.

"You should keep your smart mouth shut. You're not in the position for stupid jokes", Mammon murmured, to which the little demon shrugged and turned his head to the side, demonstratively not looking at Mammon and just continuing to grin.

"I beg your pardon", he said unenthusiastically, and after a brief pause added, "Your Highness."

Half amused, half amazed, Ozzie watched the spectacle and he got an idea.

"Let me guess. That's the one who's supposed to get the prosthetic arm. Am I right?"

"That's right. If I may introduce. This is Fizz. He's going to be the new star in my Show Bizz. At least that's what I'm going to make sure of", Mammon explained, crossing his arms and settling into one of the chairs in front of the desk. "Haven't you heard of him? After all, he was the main act in my circus."

"In your torched circus", Ozzie corrected, bending low to the little demon who, unlike Mammon, didn't wipe his grin off for a moment. He was going to be Mammon's new star? The way he looked? There was something fishy about that story after all. Granted, Ozzie had never been interested in Mammon's stupid circus or the artists who performed there, but he would have heard of a one-armed show act.

"What happened to his arm?" Ozzie asked, to which the little demon reached up and grinned right in his face.

"I threw it away. I don't need it to put on a good show. What do I want with a boring arm when I can have a high-tech stretch prosthetic instead? Fits in anywhere, as deep as I want. That's where the fun really starts, right? Your Highness?"

What the ...? Cheeky he was! Cheeky and fearless, that Fizz. Not every demon would dare to look him, Asmodeus, so directly in the eye and answer so casually. Ozzie liked that.

"Enough with the jabbering! Let's get down to business!", Mammon interrupted him harshly, standing up and stomping over to them. He gave the demon Fizz a shove against his armless shoulder. The grin remained on Fizz's face, though his eyes twitched for a tiny moment. Just long enough for Ozzie to notice.

Mmh ... Ozzie frowned thoughtfully, while Mammon passed out with impatience.

"Are you going to build me that prosthesis, yes or no? I don't have time forever. I've got a lot to do!"

"Yes, yes. Have it your way. I'll commission it. Satisfied?" Ozzie waved it off, focusing on the little demon instead.

He was rather ... fascinating. Ozzie had seen a lot of actors in his life. Many performances and artists, but this little guy here showed a very great self-discipline. Even his grin didn't fade, his eyes didn't smile one bit. Instead, they blazed with a hateful passion that he hurled unfiltered at Mammon. He was lucky that Mammon had no eye for that, but was only bent on business.

In any case, the whole thing piqued his interest, and the question arose in him whether this Fizz was really as good as Mammon claimed.

"I take it the prosthetic is to be part of his show?", he muttered as he conjured a pen with a snap of his fingers. Not signing yet, he hovered the pen over the document and watched with amusement as Mammon's eyes lingered on it.

"Yeah, right", Mammon muttered, not really listening to him at all.

"And you want him to perform here in Lust? At one of your other clubs, I suppose?"

"Yeah, right." Mammon's eyes were glued to the nib of the pen that was slowly leaning toward the document.

"And what if I want him to perform at one of my clubs?"

"Yeah, right ... wait, what?!" Mammon's head jerked up and he and Fizz gawked at him doubtfully. Smiling, Ozzie tapped his chin, then pointed at Fizz.

"I like his attitude. I can work with that. And you owe me compensation for the fire damage anyway. I'll take him for that. I need a new host at my club anyway. This suits me perfectly."

Mammon's jaw dropped to the floor and her wide-eyed gaped at him. It was a sight Ozzie couldn't get enough of. Truly glorious.

"Wh-what ...? No! This doesn't suits me in any way, buddy. We have other plans, very different plans. Fizz is ... special. I want to take him under my wing, got it?"

"I'll take care of that. He can stay your protégé if that's what you want. But if you say he's the new star in ShowBizz, how can I pass that up? Especially since you must be anxious to rebuild your circus…. Aaaand to be allowed to continue running your other establishments here in Lust. Aren't you?" Ozzie batted his eyes meaningfully while Mammon clenched his fists.

Very well, he seemed to take the hint. Ozzie didn't need Mammon's clubs and bars. His city could manage without them. But for Mammon it would be a tremendous loss. It was really delicious to watch it rattling around in his skull, and to be able to throw a wrench in his works filled Ozzie with great satisfaction. Served the little shithead right!

"I'll take your silence for a yes. How nice!" He continued, without giving Mammon the opportunity to voice another objection. "I provide the prosthesis and in return he performs at my club. We split the earnings according to standard terms and voila! We're even and everyone is happy. Isn't that great? Yes, that's exactly how we do it." Ozzie held out his hand meaningfully while Mammon visibly grinded his teeth in dissatisfaction. But then he chimed in.

"Deal. But I'll work everything out with him. Understood?"

"As long as his show fits my program, fine by me." One more time Ozzie snapped his fingers and the pen put his signature on the document. "And remember, a contract is a contract is a contract. I expect him at Ozzie's tomorrow morning. He can put on his show for me. I expect him to convince me."

"Sure," Mammon rumbled, unceremoniously repacking his briefcase while Ozzie turned to Fizz.

"I'm extraordinarily anxious to see if you deliver what he promises. So don't disappoint me, that wouldn't be healthy for either of us", he breathed to him, poking him in the cheek.

Fizz nodded in response. As he had been all along to an exaggerated degree. With raised eyebrows and an incredulous grin on his face, Fizz shrugged before extending his one arm and indicating a bow.

"Of course. Sure, sure. Whatever ... As you wish. Your ... Highnesses," he babbled as if memorized, which made Ozzie frown.

A strange little fellow he was. Which made Ozzie all the more curious.

The whole thing could be most interesting, however, and if anything was sacred to him, it was his amusement. And he was sure that would be more than satisfied by the demon Fizz.