02- Satan! Read online

  “Ahhhhh, ummm--”

  “Oh, and don’t worry about Barrtazzu. He allows me whatever playthings I want. Also, he likes you. I think he’d give me to you if you asked.”

  “He would? That sounds kind of--”

  “Sherman!” Charlotte yelled from behind me. “Let’s go!”

  “Barrtazzu’s not a bad master, but I’m bored, and he owes you,” Paige said with a wink. “So don’t forget about me. Kay?” The tattooed succubus licked her lips, stepped away, blew me a kiss, and then closed the fortress door behind her.

  The engine of the Hennessey Venom started with a roar, and I tried to think about baseball for a few seconds before I turned around to face the supercar. My attempt at calming my nether regions failed though, and I tried to walk backwards a bit and sidestep to the passenger door of the car.

  “Hi,” I said as soon as closed the door behind me and buckled my seatbelt.

  “Hi.” Charlotte didn’t smile, but she didn’t sound angry with me.

  The succubus shifted into reverse, backed out of the parking spot between the black SUVs, and then drove down the long private driveway. The car stereo was off, and there was no other noise beside the powerful engine.

  “You did a good job,” she said suddenly.

  “Oh, ummm, thanks,” I replied, and she was quiet again.

  “I forgot about your video game expertise,” she said.

  “That’s okay. People tend to forget about me.” I looked over, but the beautiful succubus was paying attention to the empty road ahead.

  “That annoys me. I’ve noticed that no one remembers your name. I kept forgetting at school. Why do you think everyone forgets?” she asked.

  “I don’t know. I’m just not very popular. I’m kind of a nerd.”

  “Ha, ‘kind of a nerd’?” She turned her face to me and smirked.

  “Yeah. I’m a big nerd,” I sighed.

  The car was silent for a few more minutes, and I watched streams of lava flow between every other gray hill on the horizon.

  “Do you--” Charlotte started to say, but her voice cut off.

  “Huh?” I asked.

  “Nothing.”

  “Okay.”

  There were a few more minutes of silence, and I decided I wanted to turn on some music. I was about to lean forward and press the magical button on the dash, but Charlotte took a sudden breath, and I paused.

  “Do you think she is pretty?” she asked.

  “Who? Paige?”

  “Yes, Paige. Who else would I be talking about?” she snarled, and her eyes filled the interior of the supercar with a red light.

  “Sorry!” I gasped and the girl’s eyes dimmed a bit.

  “Did you like her tattoos?” she asked, and her voice was calmer.

  “Ummm, I guess. I mean, I don’t really want to think about any other girl besides yo--”

  “Okay,” she said nonchalantly.

  “Okay?” I asked.

  “Yes. Okay. I was just asking if you thought she was pretty and if you liked her tattoos.”

  “No, I like you. Paige is pretty. Her tattoos were interesting, she was kind of dangerous, and her glasses kind of made me think of an evil, sexy librarian, but I like you, Charlotte.”

  “But if you couldn’t be with me, would you want to be with her? Will you pick her as one of your ninety-nine succubi?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “How would you not know? You get ninety-nine. You should start keeping track of them,” she growled.

  “I am really confused, Charlotte. Why are you so mad at me? I just want to be with you.”

  “Well, you can’t be with me. Sorry, Sherman,” she sighed.

  “Why not? Don’t you--” the words choked off in my mouth, and my nerves suddenly frayed.

  “Hmmm?” She glanced over at me.

  “Ummm. Don’t. You. Like. Me?” The question didn’t want to leave my mouth, and I had to beat it out of my lungs with sheer will power. I had seen plenty of movies, read tons of comic books, and watched countless hours of anime. I knew this was the worst question for a guy to ask the girl. She always said no, and the male character was always left heartbroken. I'd already messed up earlier today by telling her that I loved her.

  “It doesn’t matter,” she whispered so quietly that I almost didn’t hear her.

  “Why not?”

  “Because I’m not a human, Sherman.”

  “What does that have to do with anything?” I asked

  “Ugh. I don’t want to talk about it anymore, but--” she looked over at me.

  “But what?” I asked hopefully.

  “If you picked me, I wouldn’t mind. I guess,” she whispered, and looked back to the road.

  My heart leapt against my ribs. I tried to be cool about it, but my smile probably gave away my delight. I still didn’t want her to be bound to me, but I guessed that there might be a way to make it so that she didn't have to be.

  Was there a reason that Charlotte was telling me that ‘it doesn’t matter’? I didn’t understand why she couldn’t like me. Maybe there were all these demon rules or something that I didn’t understand? One thing was for sure, the girl I had my heart set on was in some sort of bind, and I needed to figure out how to save her. Could I ask Satan for help? He seemed like the kind of guy that was willing to give me what I wanted if I helped him. Perhaps if I told him I only wanted Charlotte instead of ninety-nine succubi, the Lord of Evil would work with me. It was worth a shot.

  “I don’t really like the idea of you being bound to serve me. I want you to want to be with me,” I said with a wince. My voice sounded very unmanly.

  “If only we could all get what we wanted,” she sighed. “Let’s not talk about it anymore. We are almost back.”

  “Are we here already?” I gasped as I saw the buildings on the far horizon.

  “Yes, another few minutes,” the succubus said.

  “But it took like four or five hours to make it to Barrtazzu’s fortress. It’s only been twenty minutes.”

  “All roads lead to Satan here, and if you are taking a car, the roads travel even faster.” Charlotte shrugged.

  She was correct about the estimate of a few minutes. We were soon entering the parking garage of Satan’s tower, and the beautiful succubus parked the red Venom in the spot where she had parked the Bugatti a few hours before, or maybe it was days, or maybe weeks. It was so hard to tell time here, and the thought of it started to make me tired. Did I even need to sleep in Hell? I hadn’t really felt tired until just now.

  We took the elevator down to the lobby, and then I showed my stamp to the marilith guards before they could race over to us. I couldn’t tell if they were the same three as before, but they didn’t greet Charlotte by name, and the hues of their skin were less green and more purplish.

  Then we were in the elevator leading to Satan’s penthouse.

  “Is there anything I should keep in mind while talking to him?” I asked.

  “No. Just don’t. Ahhh,” she shook her head and grimaced. “Don’t let him know that you care about anything. He tries to figure out what people want, and then he gives it to them.”

  “But isn’t that good? I want to tell him that I love y--”

  “No!” she yelled, and I almost jumped out of my dirty socks. “Don’t talk to him about me. Okay? Just. Ugh. Don’t, Sherman. Okay?”

  “Alright,” I said cautiously. I knew I was a bit dense with people, especially girls, and especially demon girls, but I started to think that there might be something going on between Charlotte and Satan. Were they… together? No, that was crazy. He hadn’t seemed interested in her beyond getting me to do what he wanted. There was something though, and I was going to find out.

  The doors opened with a happy chime, and we returned to the Lord of Hell’s throne room.

  “Sherman!” a massive voice carried across the empty void of the throne room.

  I cranked my neck back to stare up at the massive skull thro
ne and watched the red-skinned Lord of Hell wiggle free of his winged women and descend the stairs. It took him about a full minute to make it down the lengthy steps, and I observed him shrink with each single step.

  “There’s my wonder kid! Look at him! He’s just so handsome,” Satan stood at the bottom of his stairs, and he reached up a red-clawed hand to squeeze my cheek. The succubi by the throne giggled when their lord touched me.

  “How’d it go?”

  “It went good. We found out that a devildop had been--”

  “Let’s talk over some snacks! Charlotte!” Satan called out the girl’s name with a roar.

  “Yes, Lord Satan,” she said as she raised her face from the tiles.

  “Could you be a dear and get us a couple of bottles of Dr. Brown’s from the fridge? I’d like a Cel-Ray flavored one, and Sherman would like--” The red-skinned Lord of Hell turned to me.

  “I’ll have the same,” I said quickly.

  “Good choice, kid! I’m liking you more and more.” He turned to the succubus. “And there is a big plate of rugelach on the counter. Covered in plastic wrap. We need something to nosh on. Ya know?”

  “Yes, Lord Satan,” Charlotte backed up on her hands and knees, and then she dashed away.

  “Let’s sit, Sherman. Barrtazzu said you did a bang up job.” The demon king took a few steps, and the two couches emerged from the ground along with the coffee table.

  “We found the spy, and I beat him in a Death Match.”

  “You beat the spy in a Death Match? What is this, Bizarro World or something?”

  “We did it over a video game,” I said with a shrug.

  “Ahh, good. Here is the soda, you’ll love this, kid. Good for the mind and digestion,” Satan said as Charlotte appeared behind him.

  The succubus set a plate of rolled cookies on the table, and then she handed each of us an opened bottle of green soda.

  “Cheers, Sherman.” Satan tapped his bottle against mine, and we each took a drink. The soda tasted really dang good and had a faint, but refreshing twang of celery.

  I noticed that Charlotte was sitting on the couch facing us, but the beautiful girl just stared at the coffee table.

  “So, Sherman. Let’s talk about the future. Pastry?” Satan asked as he passed me the plate.

  “Oh. Thank you,” I said as I took a couple of them in my hand. The plate was metal, and it had Wolverine artwork on the spots that I could see.

  “I’ve got some big plans for you, Sherman. You’re gonna win this war for me, and I’m going to be eternally grateful.”

  “Okay, Satan,” I said with a small smile.

  “I want to go after the weakest side first. Which is the supernaturals. All those cranky vamps, and elves, and dwarves, and fucking Tolkien dick suckers. Ugh. I hate those assholes.” He took another sip of his drink and tossed a cookie into his mouth. “They aren’t dummies though. Here is the thing: they are just a loose alliance. They don’t like each other all that much, but they really don’t like the monsters, or the angels, or devils, or us. Enemy of my enemy, yadda yadda yadda. Get it?”

  “I think so,” I said, even though I kind of didn’t.

  “So each of these different factions has a leader, or two, or a group. I want to start whacking them. Mafia style. Gonna be beautiful. We’ll go after a few of the power players, make it look like another faction did the deed, and then they will start fighting each other. Then Gabe and Lucy will smell blood, and they might decide to focus efforts there. This is all in part ‘A’ of my plan. You understand?”

  “Yes. I think. So we’ll just kill some supernatural creatures, and then you think they will fight each other, then the--”

  “Kid, you’ve got a mind like a steel trap that ain't ever been used. It’s one thing to just whack a Supe, we also need to make it look like one of their allies did it, or else everyone will just think I did. They always blame the demons. Racist fuckers.”

  “But wouldn’t they be right in thinking that it is--”

  “Sherman, I’m wondering if you might be about to say something not very smart again,” Satan’s mouth turned into a sly grin.

  “Okay. Sorry, Satan,” I said. I remembered that I had a bottle of soda in my hand, and I took a sip.

  “So whadda say? You’ll help me set up some supes?”

  “Yes, of course, but you said I could have my own fiefdom, right?”

  “Sure, kid. I’ll give you your own territory if you help me win this war, and a bunch of power and all the ladies.” There was a round of giggling at the top of the stairs.

  "If you can find me the second son of God, I’ll give you anything you want,” Satan finished.

  “Anything?”

  “Sherman, humans don’t have very good imaginations, so anything you can imagine, I’ll give ya. I treat my people well. We have full medical, dental, and retirement packages. Let me tell you, you picked the strongest side to work for.”

  “I didn’t really pick a si--”

  “What do you know about werewolves?” The Lord of Hell interrupted me with a question.

  “Ummm. Not anything,” I admitted.

  “Well, that’s about to change. Because I’ve got your next target figured out, and let me tell you, this won’t be easy.”

  The red-skinned demon king pulled a file out of the drawer of the coffee table. It was one of those plain manila ones that I often saw at businesses. He handed it to me, and I set down my bottle of soda so I could take it.

  Then Satan told me all about werewolves.

  End of Book 2

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  Sherman’s wacky adventures continue in Werewolf! Hell High Book 3. Look for it in 2017!

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  Editing by Andy Waters

  Cover art by Hector Sevilla

  Typography by John Poh

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  Copyright © 2016 by Michael-Scott Earle

  Destroyer Book 1

  Kaiyer

  When I dreamed, it was always of floating green islands. Slow waterfalls tumbled off the sides of rocky earth and disappeared into smoky blankets of mist and unpainted clouds. I jumped between the floating islands with a lazy, drifting bounce, somersaulting amid endless blue sky, punctured by the occasional flock of giant white birds.

  In the far distance, sailing ships passed through the azure air like it was water. Often I attempted to reach these vessels, but even my greatest leaps fell short and left me to land on another lush island, conveniently placed to catch my fall. In this drea
m paradise I never noticed anything living besides the trees, birds, and the distant ships.

  Perhaps it is wrong of me to say when I dreamed, as if I only did it sometimes.

  I was always dreaming.

  I had dreamed of islands for so long, I knew no other life. Then an awakening began. A soft, orange glow peeled back the colors of blue, green, brown, and white, like a sun rising in the morning. The light came from torches which lit the cavernous mausoleum where I had been kept. I don't remember smelling anything in my dreams, but as my crypt was illuminated, my nostrils filled with the aroma of dirt, dust, death, and terror.

  Fear emanated from those who awoke me. The delicious scent of their terror filled the cavern like the light pouring from their torches, reflecting off the stone floor and around the group. The five stood twenty feet from me, three males and two females.

  Closest to me was a boy with shaggy brown hair, freckles, and disheveled clothes covered with dirt. He held a leather-bound book, its pages and spine crumbling with wear only decades of use would beget. The boy's flesh almost matched the color of the clouds from my dreams, and his dilated pupils hid the true shade of his eyes. His heart raced like the staccato rush of a warhorse galloping down a rocky slope.

  Behind the boy was a man holding a bow with an arrow notched and pointed at my face. His leather clothes were cut tight against his body and oiled to a soft shine. His long dark hair was tied back and his eyes were giant pools of blue. His hands shook as he struggled to keep from releasing the shaft he had pulled back. There seemed something familiar about the man, but my lethargic brain fought against any attempt to remember, and my eyes darted to the next member of the group.

  To the left and five feet behind the man crouched an attractive woman who had recently passed her girlish years. Her thick dark brown hair was knotted up into a ponytail on the top of her head. She wore tight-fitting leather pants and a suede-patched green shirt. The clothes were covered in a fine layer of dirt, splotched with mud. She surely spent an abundant amount of time in the sun, her skin was almost the same shade as the dark patches of leather on her tunic. Her soft brown eyes gazed down the long sight of a heavy crossbow with determination, its unwavering barbed tip pointed at my sternum. The sound of her heartbeat might as well have been a soothing breeze of wind chimes when compared to the boy and archer.