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Authors: Christine Dougherty
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weakness in the face of this demon–most likely the first of many. But the Devil did not trust this borrowed junkie’s body to do right by him, if worse should jump nimbly to worst. Amon was not the strongest of demons and if they’d met in Hell, the Devil would not have considered him an equal. But Amon was a demon nonetheless, and the demons who’d spent ample time with the humans were the most conniving of all.
And Amon had spent much of his time on Earth, leading the guilty further astray.
“You’re looking pretty thin…and weak,” Amon said, tsking and shaking his head. All traces of an accent had faded from his speech. “That body doesn’t look like a keeper, to me. Think it’ll stand up, Lucifer?”
The Devil never turned, only continued to watch the passing scenery, seemingly unperturbed.
“Let’s cut to the chase, Am,” he said. “And stop calling me Lucifer.”
“Cut to the chase? Oh, my dear Lucifer, that is a funny one you found! Cut to the chase! Must have watched their fair share of action movies, I guess,” Am said and then his voice took on a cozy, sycophantic edge, the accent back, but threading in and out, appearing and disappearing. “Odd isn’t it? How you get a slight taste of the person who’d occupied the body before ye? Tempts you to want a new one every day, aye, laddie?”
Once again, the Devil said nothing, only turned to regard Amon with passive, emerald eyes.
Amon sighed, tilting his head back and rolling his eyes heavenward, drawing it out and giving it full weight and measure, making his exasperation theatrical and obvious.
“You know why I’m here, Lucifer,” he said. “You’re wanted back in Hell. I imagine you can guess who decreed it. Things are getting funky down there.”
“They’re burning, same as always. Nothing is going to change if I’m gone for a time.”
Amon shook his head. “No, no, no, that won’t do…what is Hell without Satan? You’re needed down there, laddie. Your business is not here, it’s there. You can’t slum up here with us…you’re much too important. Management says so, aye?”
“Is that so?” the Devil turned and raised his eyebrows at Amon, politely inquiring. “Who in management?”
“You know who, you know very well who,” Amon said and his tone had lost its teasing quality. His words came out sounding like a jangle of twanged nerves.
“Can’t even say His name, my dear?” the Devil asked, allowing the sarcasm full weight and measure. “Can’t even say ‘God, Himself’? Afraid it will stick in your throat, Am?”
Anger flashed across the demon’s face and his thin lips thinned even more.
“Why are you even doing this, Lucifer? Rumor has it that it’s because of some lawyer? Can that be right?” Amon was shaking his head. “When I first heard, I didn’t believe it, couldn’t believe it! Satan, Himself come up from hell to collect a soul? Unimaginable! Even we, Legion, do not presume in the sight of…the sight of…” he trailed off, shaking his head again. “Even we, Legion, would not take a soul. Not without…without…”
The Devil shook his head, a smile playing on his lips.
“You really can’t say it? Still? After all this time?”
Amon’s face reddened with rage and his head seemed to be melting, reforming, pushing itself out of shape. “I can say it! I can say it! God! God! God!…” he screamed, saliva spraying from his mouth and stippling the windshield as shimmering black feathers and a yellow beak grew from his features. “God! Gaw! Gaw!” He continued, his eyes shrinking to small, wet black dots surrounded by a somehow sickly, sunshine yellow. “Caw! Caw! Caw!”
The Devil threw his head back and laughed, liking the way the laughter loosened his belly and soothed his nerves, somehow drawing strength into this weak human form.
Amon’s head snapped up and down and became human again, beak and feathers disappearing in an instant.
“Funny! Funny stuff, asshole!” Amon
And Amon had spent much of his time on Earth, leading the guilty further astray.
“You’re looking pretty thin…and weak,” Amon said, tsking and shaking his head. All traces of an accent had faded from his speech. “That body doesn’t look like a keeper, to me. Think it’ll stand up, Lucifer?”
The Devil never turned, only continued to watch the passing scenery, seemingly unperturbed.
“Let’s cut to the chase, Am,” he said. “And stop calling me Lucifer.”
“Cut to the chase? Oh, my dear Lucifer, that is a funny one you found! Cut to the chase! Must have watched their fair share of action movies, I guess,” Am said and then his voice took on a cozy, sycophantic edge, the accent back, but threading in and out, appearing and disappearing. “Odd isn’t it? How you get a slight taste of the person who’d occupied the body before ye? Tempts you to want a new one every day, aye, laddie?”
Once again, the Devil said nothing, only turned to regard Amon with passive, emerald eyes.
Amon sighed, tilting his head back and rolling his eyes heavenward, drawing it out and giving it full weight and measure, making his exasperation theatrical and obvious.
“You know why I’m here, Lucifer,” he said. “You’re wanted back in Hell. I imagine you can guess who decreed it. Things are getting funky down there.”
“They’re burning, same as always. Nothing is going to change if I’m gone for a time.”
Amon shook his head. “No, no, no, that won’t do…what is Hell without Satan? You’re needed down there, laddie. Your business is not here, it’s there. You can’t slum up here with us…you’re much too important. Management says so, aye?”
“Is that so?” the Devil turned and raised his eyebrows at Amon, politely inquiring. “Who in management?”
“You know who, you know very well who,” Amon said and his tone had lost its teasing quality. His words came out sounding like a jangle of twanged nerves.
“Can’t even say His name, my dear?” the Devil asked, allowing the sarcasm full weight and measure. “Can’t even say ‘God, Himself’? Afraid it will stick in your throat, Am?”
Anger flashed across the demon’s face and his thin lips thinned even more.
“Why are you even doing this, Lucifer? Rumor has it that it’s because of some lawyer? Can that be right?” Amon was shaking his head. “When I first heard, I didn’t believe it, couldn’t believe it! Satan, Himself come up from hell to collect a soul? Unimaginable! Even we, Legion, do not presume in the sight of…the sight of…” he trailed off, shaking his head again. “Even we, Legion, would not take a soul. Not without…without…”
The Devil shook his head, a smile playing on his lips.
“You really can’t say it? Still? After all this time?”
Amon’s face reddened with rage and his head seemed to be melting, reforming, pushing itself out of shape. “I can say it! I can say it! God! God! God!…” he screamed, saliva spraying from his mouth and stippling the windshield as shimmering black feathers and a yellow beak grew from his features. “God! Gaw! Gaw!” He continued, his eyes shrinking to small, wet black dots surrounded by a somehow sickly, sunshine yellow. “Caw! Caw! Caw!”
The Devil threw his head back and laughed, liking the way the laughter loosened his belly and soothed his nerves, somehow drawing strength into this weak human form.
Amon’s head snapped up and down and became human again, beak and feathers disappearing in an instant.
“Funny! Funny stuff, asshole!” Amon
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