Today’s daily post, that I am making a concerted effort to find the time to do today is about leftovers or finishing something you started.. I figured the three minutes I had for lunch means I have a further 57 minutes to work on the Daily Post.
“Today, publish a post based on unused material from a previous piece –a paragraph you nixed, a link you didn’t include, a photo you decided not to use. Let your leftovers shine!”
Well, I don’t have anything that’s been trimmed off but this is the first part of a piece of fiction, possible novel that I started writing, but then ultimately ran out of time before I even started it, which so often happens. Well, I didn’t get rid of it so I think it warrants a little more time today.
I can’t promise that it will be a complete flash-fiction as that requires an ending, but I’ll just go with it for a bit and you can let me know if it is worth continuing even further.
The italic bit is the bit I had already…
Athlor stared at the white screen in front of him, the little cursor blinked almost mockingly at him. His mind was blank. Well not completely blank, he had spent the past 45 minutes worrying about how his mind had gone blank, why this wasn’t good and just how his lack of work would ultimately result in his death or at least a good maiming.
For most people, this type of thinking would be dismissed as crazy or paranoid. No boss would kill or maim an employee because they hadn’t provided a report. However, Athlor worked in hell, and their management approach was a little different to what would be described as normal. Blorkrik, an ex-co-worker had found this out the hard way, when he was disemboweled for not formatting a spreadsheet correctly.
Athlor and all the other workers in hell are demons, Demons in a very biblical sense. They are without exception large, horrifically-monstrous figures, covered in spines, teeth and claws, so imagine if you will what happened when you put this monstrous boulder of snarling death in front of a computer and tell it that unless its figures look good by the end of the month, he will have to attend a performance review with Satan, who is not by large known for his patience and understanding.
That was the situation that Athlor now found himself in. In all honestly it wasn’t the fact that his soul conversion figures were lacking this month, and even facing off against his boss wasn’t his primary concern as right at this moment he had terrible back pains from squashing his large red frame into an office chair, while hunched over a computer monitor and for those readers who have a tail, you can appreciate that having to sit on it for hours is less than comfortable.
‘When you going in?’ asked a purple lizard-like demon leaning over the top of the cubicle.
‘Hey, Nopax. Ummm…’ Athlor checked his watch ‘In 36 minutes.’
‘Well, it’s looking good.’ He said sarcastically, nodding at the screen. ‘She’s at the cooler again?’
‘Oh yeah. Who?’
‘Who? Pfff, you know damn well, who? Her.’ His eyes flicked over to the water cooler at the far side of the office.
Athlor looked over and saw her. She was perfect, she was everything a woman should be. Her purple hair bounced off her shoulders, she was stunningly beautiful, and she had a body that drove him mad. Even her manicured claws were perfect. That was her job of course, to be perfect, she was a succubus, so driving men wild was her raison d’etre.
‘Apparently, she’s seeing the big guy too. Her conversion rates have been pretty poor. Can you imagine that? Her? Looking like that and getting poor results. Well if she doesn’t start getting the temptees in, she’ll be ‘fired’. Such a shame too. I’m sure I could help her conversion rate, if you catch me.’
‘Hmmm’ Athlor responded neutrally, though in truth he hadn’t heard anything the lizard had said. He had been watching her in awe, imaging her being his, wondering what it would feel like to be kissed by those lips and touched with those hands.
It was then that he realised, he would do anything for her, and coincidentally it was also that moment that his sub-life started to spiral out of control. If he knew now that the next thing he would do would put his and her afterlife at risk, and that they would find themselves fugitives, evading capture and destruction he would probably do everything he could to change it. Yet if he knew everything about his future, he wouldn’t change one second of it.
- Cutting Room Floor (pepperconnection.com)
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