Black Lace And Other Short Stories

Ashes to Ashes

Ashes to Ashes

I work for the devil.

He sends me to do his bidding, fetching souls that escaped from his clutches, corruptible mortals and coffee from the shop above his underground cavern. I am his favourite, the only one he truly trusts. The others all try to escape, forgetting that once the devil has your soul, he has it for eternity, or until your soul finally fades and you are only a memory. Whenever one escapes, he sends me to find it. He knows I'll do it, capture the soul and bring it to the devil. They are always screaming and begging for mercy. But in the court of the dammed there is no room for mercy.

I sold my soul to him eons ago. I was in a library when a man came up to me. He was good looking, except for his eyes. They were feral, looking at me like he would willingly tear me apart in an instant. I stared at him warily, but then he started talking – and oh! His voice – it was cultured, a rich honey, with an accent that I couldn't quite place. He offered me a deal. I would have everything I wanted - money power, anything, and in return he would get my soul. I was young, but I had seen enough of the world to know that a girl could not get these things without help. At that point I did not care for my soul. It seemed feeble and of little consequence. I agreed without a second thought.

I did get it all, and was treated like a god. I was powerful and the army’s I sent took everything they came across. But one day the devil came calling, pulling me down to his world. Then I watched as everything I built came crashing down around me. I screamed and closed my eyes. When I opened them I was grey, and in a room made entirely of smoke and mirrors. Staring at me from one of them was a girl who looked like I had, the day I made my deal. I turned and in horror realized that the man who I had seen in the human world was a lie. His skin was like paper after it had been in a fire. There where glowing red lines on his ash-grey skin and parts were pure white, drifting off him in flakes. His eyes, still feral, were glowing coals. “It's time for you to fulfil your part of our bargain.” His voice was raspy and abrasive and when he smoke blew from his mouth. I nodded, mute.

Now his skin is almost all gone. He is growing weaker. Even the devil cannot last forever. He smiles at me and tells me that I will make a great devil myself when he is gone. I smile and nod, although I'm horrified at the thought.

I am the one the devil trusts most in all the worlds.

I hate him.