Written by Jason Kahn
Illustrated by David Maier
In his assigned pit in Hell's vast Pain Management Center, Cornelius, Tormenter Second Class, plied his trade with tireless enthusiasm. At present he was in the middle of his morning session, working on a serial adulterer who had been shot, stabbed, strangled and poisoned after all of the women he had been seeing discovered his infidelities at the same time. One look and Cornelius knew he had a fear of small places, which was why he locked the offender inside a small room that slowly contracted until the man was crushed to a pulp. The process would start over after the soul was revived. Cornelius waited until the screams reached a crescendo for the fifth time and then broke for lunch. He retired to his personal alcove where he sat back in his comfy chair and ate some salamander stew while perusing the Daily Apocrypha.
Cornelius flipped through the pages, careful to get a minimum of ink on his reddish skin. A headline read: "Reaper Union Demands Overtime Pay." Cornelius shook his head. Reapers had the worst job, flitting Above Ground, grabbing their assignment and hustling back to Hell. They were little more than glorified escorts, and they had a ridiculous quota to fill each day. Cornelius had started out as a Reaper, most everyone did. Fortunately, he was stuck in that job for only a hundred years or so before moving up.
Unfortunately, while his job had more cachet than that of a Reaper, it had never been good enough for his broodmare. She complained to anyone who would listen that she wished he had a more glamorous occupation, like a Devourer or a Corruptor. But Cornelius had never doubted his calling. His sense of fairness and need to punish the wicked made him a natural Tormenter.
The next headline read: "Samael Calls for Overhaul in Elemental Dept." Cornelius raised an eyebrow. Samael was second in command to Lucifer himself. The Elementals were the demons who caused natural disasters Above Ground: flood, hurricane, earthquake. But they were under Scylla's authority. The demoness also ran the Devourers, the demons who ate the most unrepentant, evil souls after the Tormenters were done with them, which made her very powerful. But she was still a rung or two below Samael. Scylla would not welcome Samael's intrusion into her affairs.
Cornelius sighed and thanked the Void he was not involved in the politics of Hell's Hierarchy. He was about to turn the page when an intern came by with the mail and a roster of the next day's "cases," as the Tormenters called their victims.
Cornelius felt a stab of anxiety when he looked at the parchment. Instead of the normal list of names and accompanying transgressions, there was a single name with a time and place Above Ground. He was going Reaping.
Had he done something wrong? Was he being demoted? Cornelius quelled his rising apprehension and reached for the telephone on his desk. Perhaps his supervisor could shed some light on this. He dialed an inside line—there was only one outside line, and it hadn't been used for as long as he could remember.
"Yes, Cornelius?" came the deep voice at the other end of the line.
"Mr. Moloch, sir? I think there's been a mistake made in the assignments for tomorrow."
"What mistake?" The voice rumbled with mild concern.
"Well, it appears that I'm being sent to Reap someone." Cornelius tried to keep the irritation out of his voice.
"Ah, yes." Moloch's voice registered sudden comprehension. "New program, straight from the top. We're now required to put in a little field work now and then, to keep us fresh. Do you a world of good. Don't worry, someone else will handle your cases until you're back. All right? All right. Thank you for calling."
Cornelius hung up. Field work? This seemed as sensible as when the Devourers were given mandatory sensitivity training for preferentially eating the souls of building contractors. He sighed, knowing he had no choice but to go on the Reap tomorrow. The thought distracted him the rest of the afternoon. Twice he lost focus and allowed a third-world tyrant with a fear of drowning to fall into shallow water, leaving the man soggy but unharmed. And once he even failed to properly heat a bed of hot coals, leaving a triple murderer with a confused look on his face and mildly uncomfortable feet.
At length, however, the workday was done, and a grateful Cornelius filed out of the cavernous Pain Management Center and headed for home, which was a small but well-appointed townhouse in the Plateau area of Hell's middle-class district. His house was just a few hundred yards from a crevasse with a breathtaking view of a lava flow far below. That was why property values were so high, though the schools were not as good as in the really pricey parts of Hell.
The next morning, after Cornelius' usual scalding hot shower, he wrote letters to some of the eighty brothers and sisters of his brood, many of whom still lived at home, much to his broodmare's annoyance. Then he made ready for his Reap. Cornelius stood and calmed his mind, then reached out to grab hold of the psychic winds that whirled unseen through the Void between Hell and Above Ground.
He grabbed a strong current and pictured his destination. In an instant, Cornelius disappeared from his living room and reappeared in the TV section of a Wal-Mart store in Anaheim, California. He changed his appearance to that of a normal human, since his true form sometimes upset the newly dead.
There was a group of people staring at a woman lying on the floor in front of a wall filled with television sets. She appeared uninjured, except for the television that resided where her head would normally be. Cornelius observed as the woman's extracorporeal essence rose out of her body. She stood looking down at herself.
"Well, I certainly didn't see that coming," she said. None of the onlookers could see or hear her, except for Cornelius.
She looked up, noticing him. "What are you dressed up for, Halloween?" Then she looked more closely. "Say, you look awfully familiar."
Cornelius' eyes narrowed as he studied her. Something was wrong, aside from the fact that she could see his true form and seemed to recognize him.
"What is your name, my dear?"
"Sandra, but my friends call me Sandy. Who the hell are you?"
Cornelius knew he had the right person, but this was still wrong. If there was one thing he was good at, it was knowing just how wicked someone had been. But this one didn't have any taint at all. Much the opposite, she gave off the curdled-milk smell of someone who had been quite good. The certainty sank in; she didn't belong in Hell. The thought of punishing someone who didn't deserve it didn't sit at all well with him. Had some clerical error caused this? And why wasn't there someone from Upstairs here, to take her to His domain? Cornelius looked around, sensing none of His representatives. Something was very wrong here.
"My name is Cornelius. I was sent to fetch you, but I fear there has been some mistake."
Sandy didn't seem to hear him. She snapped her fingers. "I knew you looked familiar! I've Seen you, but in my visions you look very different. But it's definitely you."
"You have Seen me?" Cornelius asked.
"Yes, I get visions."
Cornelius stroked his dark goatee. "Might that be why you can see my true form?"
"Could be. What are you trying to look like?"
"It's not important." He shook his head. "You know, your visions didn't seem to help you a great deal back there."
"Oh, I can't See anything about what's going to happen to me, just other people, sometimes places."
Cornelius didn't comment, unsure what to make of this human's claim of clairvoyance. "And what did you See about me?"
"Well, like I said, you look very different. No red skin or forked tail. All white robes and glowing. Very angelic, if you know what I mean. Does that make any sense to you?"
Cornelius almost stopped breathing. He knew with utmost certainty he could not deliver her Downstairs. If she ever uttered a single word of this to anyone in the Underworld, he would be done for. Those few demons who switched sides to work for Him were reviled as the worst sort of deviants, and their brood was considered forever tainted. If even an accusation were raised that a demon was considering moving Upstairs, he would be publicly dismembered to set an example for others. While such spectacles were excellent networking opportunities, he had no desire to be the one getting dismembered. And at the rate gossip spread among demonkind, all she had to do was open her mouth once.
Cornelius pursed his lips. But what to do about it? The girl's Reap had been scheduled. There was already a paper trail that led to him. She couldn't just disappear. Souls had to be accounted for; that was an absolute both Upstairs and Down. But this one didn't belong Downstairs. It must be some sort of foul-up. He needed a safe place to keep her while he cleared it up.
His decision made, Cornelius took Sandy by the elbow and steered her away from the crowd and over to the sporting goods section while paramedics dealt with her body.
"Clearly there has been some error; you do not belong in Hell." Sandy brightened visibly upon hearing that. "But I need to figure out what happened, and what to do with you."
"Well, if you're planning on taking me to your home, there are some people waiting for you. Well, they're not people, but you know what I mean."
He studied her. "They are demons like me? Can you describe them?"
She frowned. "They're bigger, and they've got cloven hooves. For some reason, they seem very . . . hungry."
Devourers. He no longer doubted Sandy's abilities. But why would Devourers be looking for him? Or her? This was getting stranger and stranger.
"Sandy, I'm going to ask you to come with me for a little while and do exactly as I say. I will do my best to figure out what's going on and see that no harm comes to you. You're going to have to trust me, all right?"
She looked at him with obvious reluctance. "So you're taking me to Hell?"
He tried to reassure her. "Only for a little while. I need to put you somewhere safe while I investigate."
She considered for several seconds. "All right. I guess if I'm just a tourist it's okay."
Cornelius declined to comment on the attractiveness of Hell as a tourist destination. He smiled and extended his hand. "Shall we?"
"Okay."
Cornelius reached out for the psychic winds. In an instant, he and Sandy disappeared from Wal-Mart and reappeared in Cornelius' alcove at the Tormenters' complex.
Sandy took a moment to look around. "Nice little office." She loosened her collar. "Kind of warm here, but I guess that's normal."
Cornelius hustled her out of his office into one of his "work" rooms. He waved his hand and an oblong, rectangular box appeared in the center of the sparse room. He looked at her, his brow furrowing. "You're not claustrophobic, are you?"
"Not at all."
"Good, because I'm going to put you in this sensory deprivation tank. No one will be able to see you, and I'll put a different name on today's roster. The only thing is that you're going to have to scream a lot. This is supposed to be torture."
"I can do that."
They approached the coffin-shaped box, and Cornelius helped Sandy inside.
"Uh, how long am I supposed to keep this up?"
Cornelius put his hand on the lid. "Until I get back. Hopefully, this is just some clerical error and it'll take a few minutes to rectify."
Sandy looked at him. "But you don't think so."
He pursed his lips. "I don't know, which is why I want you in a safe place for now." He declined to mention that it was for his safety, as well as hers.
"All right. Just be careful. They look awfully hungry."
Cornelius gave an uncertain smile and closed the lid. As soon as it was shut, Sandy started pounding and screaming with great gusto. Cornelius appreciated the way she threw herself into the role. He hurried back to his office and wrote down a false name on the day's roster, putting "mass pet-murdering tax evader" as her crime and "claustrophobia/sensory deprivation" as the major fear and preferred method of torture.
He was about to leave to start making a few inquiries at the Bureau of Soul Management and Redistribution when he was interrupted by a short, fat demon with a pair of large horns that were grossly out of proportion with the rest of his body. He was accompanied by two Devourers.
"Cornelius, what in the Void is going on!?" the short demon thundered.
Cornelius maintained his composure. "Mr. Moloch, can I help you with something?"
"Yeah. You can explain this!" His boss threw a copy of the Daily Apocrypha down on the desk. The top headline read: "Baal Bungles Several `Deals with Devil,' Souls Go Free."
"I really don't deal with Baal, sir, and I've never made any claims about being good with contracts."
"Not that one, toad!" Mr. Moloch's face began to glow cherry red, and smoke curled out from his nostrils. "Turn it over!"
Cornelius did so, and his jaw tightened. The headline read: "Reap Gone Bad, Soul Missing, Investigation Started." He scanned the first few paragraphs. Both his and Sandy's names were mentioned.
He tried to remain calm. "Sir, I can assure you I completed my assignment and brought the lady to Reaper Processing as per usual. Perhaps they messed up the paperwork over there. They're probably just covering their tails."
Moloch frowned, his expression doubtful. "It's out of my hands now. You need to go with these two." He jerked his thumb over his shoulder.
The Devourers smiled and came forward to grasp Cornelius by each arm. Insatiable hunger oozed out of them, so strong it made Cornelius dizzy to be near them.
"All right, sir."
The Devourers steered him out the door. His legs felt like jelly and his voice was weak. "I'll straighten this out. Don't worry about the current case, she can stay put for several hours if need be."
Moloch looked down at Cornelius' notes, muttering a few words before Cornelius was led away. "Pets and taxes, eh? She's bad, all right. We'll let her keep for a nice long time."
The two Devourers led Cornelius out of the Pain Management Center and through the cracked, dusty Plateau area, toward the hills where the various members of Hell's powerful Hierarchy lived. Cornelius swallowed and began to worry.
They arrived at a white marble structure with columns and figures carved into the stone. The Devourers' hooves clacked on the steps while Cornelius' tail swished nervously. They walked inside, straight to a large set of brass doors that swung open as they approached. The Devourers shoved Cornelius inside without ceremony, chuckling to themselves as the doors swung shut. Cornelius was left alone to face a demoness he knew by reputation alone.
Scylla sat behind a large desk. She wore a smart flame-red business suit and was twice Cornelius' size, with long, clawlike nails that tapped impatiently.
"Please sit." Her voice was all sweetness and light. A chair moved of its own accord behind Cornelius, who sat, grateful to be away from the Devourers. Cornelius heard a faint grrrr from beneath the desk, and he wondered what was hidden there.
"So, my dear Cornelius." Scylla paused to adjust her hair, which was done up in an ornate bun. "Let me cut to the chase: Where is the Seer?"
"Well, ma'am, I picked her up as scheduled and left her at Reaper Processing." Cornelius stuck to his story. "But if you don't mind my asking, I got the impression from my short contact with her that she . . . didn't belong here, if you get my meaning."
The growls from under the desk grew louder as Scylla smiled menacingly. "Let's not concern ourselves with such details, shall we? I'm going to ask you once again: Where is the Seer?"
Cornelius blinked. If Scylla wasn't concerned that Sandy didn't belong in Hell, then she wanted her for a reason, which made this a far more difficult situation for him to untangle. But with the information Sandy had, though Cornelius would deny it until he was pink in the face, there was no way he could hand her over to a member of Hell's Hierarchy.
Growing more and more uncomfortable under Scylla's baleful gaze, Cornelius tried to keep the quaver out of his voice. "As I said, you'll have to check with Reaper Processing as to her current whereabouts."
Scylla's eyes glazed with anger as she half stood and slammed her fist down with a thunderous boom on the desk. The growls from the unseen beasts turned to savage barks. Cornelius' nails bit into the arms of his chair.
"She's the most powerful Seer in five hundred years and I will have her! Now where is she?"
Cornelius thought for a moment. Why would a powerful demoness like Scylla need a Seer? She obviously wanted to know something about the future, but what? He thought about what he knew of Hell's Hierarchy, and then something from yesterday's Daily Apocrypha hit him.
"You're going to make a move against Samael," he breathed. "And you want to know how it turns out."
Scylla gave a scream that echoed around the room as the barks became even more threatening. "Of course I am, you stupid son of a succubus! I can't stand that busybody constantly sticking his nose in my business. And the Seer is my insurance policy. So I will have her, and you will tell me where she is, or you will be thrown into the Pit."
Cornelius gave an involuntary shudder. The Pit was the deepest well of Hellfire in the Underworld. The wickedest of wicked souls were sent there to circle the flames for eternity. Sometimes demons were thrown in for some grievous act, to burn up and return to oblivion and the Void. Cornelius, however, remained silent. Handing Sandy over to Scylla also meant death, along with the public disgrace and humiliation to him and his entire brood. At least the Pit was a clean death, and perhaps he could still manage to escape and spirit Sandy away. The vague outline of a plan formed in his mind.
Cornelius swallowed with difficulty, and his words came slowly. "I'm afraid I can't help you."
Scylla's eyes narrowed and the barks lowered to menacing growls. "Very well. We'll find her without you."
The doors swung open and the two Devourers entered. They hoisted Cornelius out of his chair.
"Throw him in the Pit." Scylla waved her hand dismissively, muttering to herself as Cornelius was led away. "I knew I shouldn't have trusted that idiot Moloch with this."
Cornelius didn't bother trying to struggle. The dizziness returned as soon as the Devourers came near. They dragged him down the marble steps and along a different path toward the Plateau.
Before long, Cornelius heard a great moaning up ahead. They were nearing the Pit. The noise came from all the souls whirling around the great fire. He focused on what he did every day as a Tormenter and zeroed in on the type of punishment a Devourer would fear most. Then he waited.
Cornelius could now make out the bare, stunted trees that rose around the rim of the Pit. He judged they had come close enough. "You know, I'm very sorry to have caused so much trouble. But I'm most sorry about the awful mess I'm leaving behind."
He could see the edge of the Pit now. The wailing from the souls inside was louder, and the heat came in searing waves. The two Devourers looked at each other, their expressions humorous.
"Don't worry," one said. "We'll find the girl without you."
"Oh, it's not that." Cornelius tried to sound apologetic. "I mean the severe soul shortage we're looking at."
They had reached the edge. Cornelius could see just over the lip the magnificent, terrifying fire that had raged for Eternity, and would keep burning until the end of time. He saw the vague forms that swirled like leaves in the wind, their mouths open in endless, mournful wails.
The Devourers paused at the edge, their eyes narrowed. "What are you talking about?"
"Oh, it's just that the Tormenters are working with a new computer system to manage all the cases that come through. There are still several bugs that need to be worked out and it's created an enormous backlog. I was helping to move things along, but I'm afraid in my absence the flow of souls for you Devourers to eat will slow to almost nothing in very short order."
The Devourers began to look concerned. Nothing worried a Devourer more than the prospect of having nothing to eat.
"What do you think?" one asked the other.
"Scylla would've said something." He seemed none too sure.
"It seems to me that Scylla has been rather preoccupied with other matters lately," Cornelius offered.
That seemed to strike the right chord, because the Devourers frowned and exchanged worried looks. For an instant, they forgot about Cornelius and relaxed their grip on his arms, which was just what he had been waiting for. Cornelius whipped his arms back and slammed them into the backs of the Devourers. For an instant the two demons tottered on the edge of the Pit, a mixture of helplessness and panic on their faces. Then they fell in. Cornelius watched their forms become smaller and smaller, their screams another note in the terrible chorus of souls before they vanished into the blazing fire.
Cornelius raced back toward the Tormenters' complex. He greeted various coworkers in the halls, acting normal despite the odd looks he received. His sigh of relief upon reaching his office, however, was cut short. Moloch was already there.
"I heard you were back." His face clouded into a scowl. "Now what in the Void's name is going on, I've been hearing . . ."
Cornelius cut in. "Yes, yes, it was all just a simple misunderstanding. It's all been straightened out. But before I get back to work, I could really use your assistance with some faulty equipment I was using the other day. Would you come this way? Thank you so much, sir."
Moloch looked at Cornelius suspiciously, but didn't resist as he was ushered into an empty workroom. "Well, okay. I guess if there's an equipment malfunction, I should know about it."
"Of course you should, sir. That's why you're in charge," Cornelius said. "Now, let's take a look at this machine here."
Cornelius waved his hand and a rack appeared before them, standing upright. It was complete with shackles and levers for pulling and bending bodies in unnatural ways. Cornelius led his supervisor right up to it.
"I was working on a grossly overweight embezzler, and you can plainly see that it's impossible for this rack to accommodate . . ." Cornelius stopped mid-sentence and pushed Mr. Moloch toward the apparatus. The short demon could do nothing as manacles closed on his wrists and ankles with a sharp clang.
"Cornelius!" His face started turning bright red again. "What is the meaning of this!? I'll have your hide."
Cornelius sighed. "I am sorry, but I really have no choice."
He left Moloch there, closed the door behind him and cast a quick silence spell so no one would hear him screaming. It wouldn't last long, though. Cornelius took Moloch's threat quite seriously. He knew several former coworkers whose hides adorned his office.
He looked down at the phone on his desk, hesitating for a moment. He disliked taking this route, but leaving Sandy in the Underworld wasn't an option. Cornelius dialed the outside line.
After a brief, awkward conversation, he hung up and went to the room where he had left Sandy. To her credit, she was still screaming. Cornelius opened the lid and assisted Sandy out of the sensory deprivation chamber.
Cornelius explained their situation in as few words as possible, knowing Moloch would be free at any moment. "So, shall we?" He offered his hand once again.
"Let's go," Sandy said.
In another moment, Cornelius had caught the psychic winds and the two disappeared from Hell's Pain Management Center.
They reappeared an instant later outside a Sizzler Steakhouse in Lansing, Michigan. Cornelius changed form to appear once more like a normal human, and they walked in. Cornelius explained to the hostess that he—the woman couldn't see Sandy—was meeting someone, and they walked through the main seating area. Cornelius spotted the person at the same time that Sandy gave a small gasp. They joined what appeared to be an elderly, well-dressed man in a booth by the window. Cornelius could tell by the way his nose tickled and his eyes watered that this person was from Upstairs. Demons were allergic to their kind.
The "man" gave them a kindly smile as they sat.
"You're beautiful," Sandy breathed. Cornelius knew what she saw, the glowing light, the robes. He was at a loss to explain humans' gushing reaction toward these beings.
"Thank you, my dear. You may call me Aaron." The man patted her on the hand. "Well, we've all had an interesting day today, haven't we?"
"Oh, yes," Sandy said. "Cornelius took me to Hell, but I didn't see too much." She sounded disappointed.
"Well, I'm sure that was for the best," Aaron said. "After all, that's not where you're meant to be, is it?"
"No way," she affirmed.
"Speaking of which, thank you for your timely phone call." He nodded to Cornelius. "We were getting a bit concerned. You're a rare fellow for your kind, if you don't mind my saying so."
Cornelius wasn't sure how to take that. "I had my own reasons for getting her out." He shrugged. "Besides, she shouldn't have been sent down there in the first place. Why didn't He send someone for her?"
"Oh, He most certainly did," Aaron said, still with that quiet smile. "He sent me, but I was delayed in transit. Some rather seedy looking characters with large appetites waylaid me."
Cornelius felt sure he knew who they were. "Nevertheless, you'd think He would be able to do something about this sort of thing."
Aaron gave Cornelius a look filled with hidden knowledge, and a touch of amusement. "What makes you think He didn't?"
"You know, I didn't come here to be insulted," Cornelius replied gruffly.
"Of course not. None intended, I assure you. You have nothing but our deepest gratitude. As a matter of fact, you have a standing invitation Upstairs anytime you like."
Cornelius looked at Aaron, wondering if he was joking. He didn't care what Sandy had Seen, he wasn't about to give up his calling. "That won't be necessary."
"Yes, well, it's something to think about at any rate." Aaron winked. "And now, my dear, are you ready?"
Sandy nodded and turned to Cornelius. "Thank you so much for helping me, Cornelius, you've been a dear." She leaned over and kissed him on the forehead.
Cornelius sat there stunned, her action matching nothing in his experience.
She turned back to Aaron, who held out his hand to her. "Okay, I'm ready." Just before their hands touched, she turned back to Cornelius. "I'm really sorry, but you'll like it here after you get used to it." She looked wistful for a moment. In the next instant, they were gone.
Sorry? What was she sorry about? Get used to what? Before he could digest Sandy's words, two other gentlemen sat down across from him at the booth. They were both young-looking, with polo shirts and slicked back hair. Cornelius took one look at their eyes, which seemed like hungry black holes that threatened to suck him in. More Devourers.
"Scylla is rather upset with you," one said. "She still wanted to throw you in the Pit."
"But Samael intervened on your behalf," the other added sourly. "He judged you to be grievously insubordinate to your manager and guilty of consorting with His representatives, but he lessened your sentence."
"So what is it?" Cornelius asked.
They both smiled. "You'll find out. Enjoy your stay."
They got up and left, leaving a worried Cornelius alone in the booth. Thinking he might as well return home and face the music, Cornelius reached out for the psychic winds, only to discover he could not. He tried again, but something was blocking him. Then he realized—this was his punishment. He was being exiled to live in the human realm. That was what Sandy meant. Cornelius sat back in shock as the enormity of his punishment hit home. No more Pain Management Center, no more inflicting suffering on the wicked. At least he had avoided being charged with the far more serious transgression of attempting to do His work.
He caught the attention of a waitress and ordered a steak, raw.
She looked at him. "Do you mean rare, honey? We don't serve raw meat here."
"Yes, of course," he quickly amended. Why did humans insist on ruining perfectly good food? While he waited for his meal, Cornelius' mind raced. How long would his punishment last? Where would he go? What would he do? He was distracted by a young couple that sat down nearby. Cornelius looked at the humans. While the man perused a menu, the woman sat absolutely still, as if she was afraid to move. She wore dark glasses, which did nothing to hide the bruises on her face. Cornelius could taste her fear. The husband, meanwhile, gave off a smell Cornelius was all too familiar with.
The demon considered. Perhaps he could continue his work after all. There were plenty of cases here Above Ground to keep him occupied, and the change in scenery might do him some good. He studied the couple while a renewed sense of purpose filled him. He would start with this one. Cornelius smiled; he already knew exactly what the human feared most.
"Excuse me," Cornelius said, gaining the attention of another waitress. "Where would one go in these parts to bury a person?"
The waitress' eyes turned instantly sympathetic. She leaned down and touched Cornelius on the hand. "I'm so sorry, honey, did somebody die?"
It dawned on Cornelius that he'd have to adjust his normal routine. Her mistake was understandable, of course.