Down Goes The Devil

Chapter 12

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Chris found himself sitting in his room all over again, yet this time, it was different. When he got back home, his mom has already cleaned his room, and the window was open, and he did not go out of his way to close it and sit in the dark as he always has done. There was a glimmer of hope in his eyes as he stared into the horizon, fantasizing about the life he could have, free of sin, free of guilt. As soon as he got home, he sent his resume to Fred, and the latter informed him almost instantly that he was going to keep him posted, and reassured him that he was going to get a call within the next two days.

"Wouldn't it be funny if I took his life right here, right now? Just as things are starting to look up for him?" Ethan snickered to himself, finding the very thought of taking Chris' life amusing.

"Do not interfere with fate. Humans' lives are of no use to you, Ethan." Ethan could recognize that jarring voice anywhere.

"Azrael, to what do I owe the pleasure?" The devil asked, curious about this sudden visit from the angel of death.

"I am here to prevent you from committing atrocities that might imbalance the worlds above." Azrael declared.

"The worlds above? Your creator had written in the stars that I was to take over Lucifer's throne, I believe I have the freedom to take people's lives if I wanted to." Ethan argued.

"My creator has also assigned me with the duty of drawing the lines where the limit of your doings shall lie. You are not allowed to interfere with life in essence. You are only allowed to alter its course." Azrael explained.

"And what would happen if I were to interfere with someone's existence? In other words, what's stopping me from finishing these gremlins off? It's not as if this one is contributing to the development of the human race."

"It is not your place to judge. I cannot give you an answer as of now, however, such actions have grave consequences."

"What a lousy half-assed answer that was. I will not argue with you nonetheless. Just so you know, I'm not really interested in ending these people's lives. There is no fun in that. I wish to see them suffer until their last breath. That's where the fun lies." Ethan explained.

"Hearing that, my job here is done. Remember my words Ethan, such actions have-"

"Grave consequences, got it, got it." Ethan interrupted. "You can leave these poor souls to me, you must be busy killing people or whatever."

In a blink of an eye, Azrael disappeared in a mist of black smoke, leaving Ethan alone with his prey. What a strange guy. Ethan's curiosity was piqued as he wondered what would happen if he were to mingle with fate and end Chris' life, but he shook these thoughts off as he reminded himself of his sole purpose.

Ethan pondered on his plans and whether he was doing the right thing. He has never regarded the existence as the concept of "right" and "wrong" as truthful, and yet, he was questioning his purpose. The thought of dying has always been a delight for him, an escape from the endless suffering that he has gone through throughout his life, however, as the devil, he was mulling over his duties. If these folks were to die, they would never achieve greatness, however, he had the capacity of making their lives a living hell. Would what he was doing make a difference at all? After all, they would wind up in an endless loop of torment, which is pretty much the same as what he was doing to them.

Ethan eventually weeded these thoughts out. He was doing this for his own entertainment. After all, he was influencing their lives, and ensuring they get a VIP seat in hell as a tormented soul. Chris was still fretting over a measly email as if his life depended on it, which was delightful to Ethan. His constant distress, the drops of sweat dripping from his forehead, his almost hypothermic hands fiddling with any object in sight as he tried to distract himself, the sound of his ear-piercing footsteps as he stepped back and forth, his drooping eyelids as he fought off his lack of sleep and the head-pounding as he was still hungover from last night's liquor that he guzzled as he longed for some forgetfulness, needing to cleanse his soul, was almost beguiling to Ethan. He almost couldn't comprehend whether these were responses emitted from distress or glee. He knew that Chris had no sense of stability. It was not only the feeling of being repulsed by his surroundings. What was bothering him was that piercing voice that kept whispering in his ear wherever he went, that confusion that popped up inside his head and making him question trivialities. Lucifer has done a wonderful job with this one.

Chris was at his wits ends, so he poured himself a glass of whiskey, in an attempt to ease the pain and anxiety, which eventually will not do wonders to his mind, as his body has grown accustomed to what he perceived as elixirs of comfort, as magic potions that would ease his troubled mind. Will the tables finally be turned?

The clock was ticking at a snail's pace, and the sun was going down. At last, Chris' computer beeped. He was half-asleep, lying on the sagging mattress, but as soon as he heard the beep, he became fully conscious, as focused as laser, eyeing the email that he had just received.

"Dear Chris,

We have carefully reviewed your resume carefully and we are impressed by your credentials.

Congratulations on making your first step on what is about to be an exciting journey.

We are happy to invite you to a quick interview on Sunday, May 29th to discuss the position as well as your background and qualifications.

See you then!

Best wishes,

Amy Brown

Recruitment Coordinator and Office Manager at InterSof"

Chris almost leaped offhis chair with excitement as he read the email carefully and meticulously,scanning it continuously, wondering if this is a spam email or an actual jobopportunity. He felt the tenseness in his muscles slowly disappear as a flow ofbliss flowed in his veins. He knew that it wouldn't last for long as he has tomentally and physically get himself ready for the interview. He had tostraighten his arched back for starters, to feign confidence. He had tomemorize a few responses in case he got caught off guard by the interviewer.

"I need to sober up, I can't show up with drooping eyes, oh god." He said tohimself while staring at his reflection in the mirror. He looked sideways atthe bottle of whiskey staring back at him on the nightstand, as he was fightingthe urge to take another sip. As Ethan dove into his thoughts, he got a clearglimpse of his struggles. Chris was too fearful to admit it to himself, butdeep within himself, he knew he was an alcoholic. Ethan saw a glance of himselfthrough Chris' eyes. Alcohol was unsavory and nauseating, however, it was aneasy route to a few moments of rest as you black out gulping the liquid almostendlessly.

Ethan could've urged him to go ahead and drink, however, he did not. His planhasn't been altered at all, but he wanted him to peak in life before bringinghim down. It was like he wanted him to reach the top of a mountain that he hasbeen struggling to reach its summit, before pushing him down to his death. Chrisimmediately disregarded the way he looked for a split second, and rushed to hiscomputer, looking up the perfect answers to questions that the interviewermight ask him. Ethan laid on the bed as he watched Chris scroll franticallythrough various websites, writing down some notes and rehearsing his voice toneas to not sound nonchalant while speaking.

Chris' mother walked in on her son writing down notes and her face beamed withjoy as she put down a plate spaghetti and a glass of juice on his desk.Although her curiosity was piqued and she longed for a lengthy conversationwith her only son, she knew it was not the time to distract him, so she walkedaway and shut the door slowly. Ethan watched the scene and snickered inaversion. He has never had a healthy relationship with his mother, and hehasn't contacted her in years. He wondered whether or not she was mourning hisloss. He wished she did, but not as in hope that she might still had a bit of loveand affection for him. It was rather out of spite, as he knew that the momentyou feel a miniscule drop of remorse is the moment when you lose all sense ofcomfort and serenity. He wished for her to be racked with pain, angst andheartache, as a payback for his lost childhood. 

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Author's note: Introducing a new major character next chapter, stay tuned!