GO TO HELL!?!

By Cy Sherman

Chapter One:

In a blue collar office building, New York.

"Uuuuhhhh man what the hell is that damn noise, hello?" "Well took you long enough there Damon! What, trying to get through another nice little hangover? Want me to bring you a nice ham sandwich with hot cheddar and onions? Hhumm..." "What the hell do you want Kell, and why the hell are you calling me at two O'clock in the blasted morning?" "Well first of all its not two in the morning, its two in the afternoon dumbass. Maybe you should consider slowing down on the old cough syrup eh, and second you know damn well that hell is exactly why I'm calling you. So try to look like you actually have a job when the client I sent over shows up huh."

Slamming down the phone and walking around the desk to the liquor cabinet muttering all the while. "Oh yeah I'll look nice and decent for the little lady", pouring out a brandy from the glass decanter, "this one had better have some damn money this time...I am so sick and tired of these damn dead beats showing up at my door..." (In a high sing-song voice) "Oh please Mr. Damon we need help but can't afford to pay you, though I'll do anything to get my poor so and so back, ohh please!?!..." Then, of course I have to give the response. "Yeah and money grows on trees and I've got to many women chasing after me already, and not cause they want something from me but cause I owe money to them or their establishments. So put some collateral on the table or quit wasting my time! Cause anything you want to give me besides money isn't worth a tinkers damn to me!" Then comes the puppy dog eyes and tears, or maybe, if it gets really interesting a gun in my face. Of course that one just makes me laugh and I tell them to go ahead and do it, because if you've been to and seen what I have, or if you know close to the truth of the matter, then life isn't all that wonderful for someone like me.

Returning to the office chair, brandy in hand and kicking his legs up on the desk, thinking to himself instead of out loud this time, for drinking and talking at the same time is not something he could quite do, though when to much brandy is consumed it has been tried on occasion. "Heh yeah someone like me....that's just it though, there is NO one like me, if there was it might make this hellish bullshit livable. Oh crap who am I kidding, even the assholes I get back out of hell won't come near me. It's like they think I had something to do with them going there in the first place." Puckering slightly and looking through what was left of a full sniffer of brandy. "Well nothing helping it, better get ready for this client Sgt. Kell sent over." Going into the small bathroom was like a part of hell in itself, though upon exiting Damon did look a lot more presentable.

Taking a seat behind the desk again and returning to the sniffer and rumination. "And it's always a woman, no matter how many cases I work on it seems to always be some lady or somebody's mother or nanny or whatever. Must be that men find it easier to do without their wives or perhaps the lady's just don't go to hell nearly as much as us guys. Shit I definitely know that one! Crap! But I'm going back, again and again, then when it's all said and done I have to find a nice little home for myself there....(Sigh) Except on that occasion I'm not coming back out!!! (Sigh) Now isn't that a nice thing to look forward to eh?? Oh what a life I've made." Trailing off into a bit of hysteric laughter and putting his head down on the desk Damon was soon snoozing silently, and drooling slightly.

Chapter Two:

About four hours later.....

BUUZZZZEEEEPPP.....BUUZZZZEEEEPPP...… "Oh my god! What in the shit blazes..." Scrambling around the desk and tripping on the shabby throw rug on the floor. BUUZZZZEEEEPPP..... Then straightening up and grabbing the door knob and twisting it open in one fluid, drunk and just woke up motion, a slim and well built woman was waiting on the other side looking worried and slightly abashed as if she wasn't sure if she had the correct address or not.

"Sorry, sorry, please come in. I'm Damon, what can I do for you miss...?" "Reltih, Mrs. Reltih, Mr. Damon." Not giving a hand for which to be kissed or shaken, and walking around Damon as if he were diseased, brushing off the chair and seating herself. Damon did likewise and seated himself behind his desk up righting the empty brandy sniffer at the same time. Then trying to look as professional as one can be with an imprint of a ruffled up edge of a desk calendar in ones face, Damon proceeded.

"Well what can I do for you Mrs. Reltih?" "Well what I have to say may seem a bit...how shall I say...confusing Mr. Damon." "That's quite alright Mrs. Reltih, that's about what I deal with on an every client basis, and please just call me Damon. My last name is Sinn so Mr. Damon sounds quite funny to me, begging your pardon Mrs. Reltih." Damon finishing with a look hoping to get a first name from Mrs. Reltih. "Oh I'm sorry, Okay Damon, it's rather a bad situation gone worse. My boy friend and I are in a good relationship though things have gone very down hell...(ahem)…excuse me, have gone very down hill lately, and to make this dull long story short I have recently lost someone very dear to me and would like to see, by my understanding you are the person to see, if something could be done to locate and retrieve this special someone back to me."

Leaning forward, elbows on the desk, and knitting his fingers together Damon asked. "Well whom might this someone be? And to let you know up front this uummm business is very expensive. All payment is required on an up-front basis in cash. I can tell you know by that look, that you may check my past history and see I've been in contact with the police here and have also been in the same place of business for over fifteen years. So I'm not going to up and disappear on you with your money or anything like that. Also there are no guarantees on whether or not this special someone will make it back with me, and I can't afford to give money back I no longer posses, so no refunds. Okay?!"

With a bit of a skittish look on her face Mrs. Reltih replied, "Well Okay, but I'm curious of why you don't have the money any longer even if they don't come back with you, I mean it is your money....right? And as far as it is concerned, does it matter who it is your going after as long as you know it is, or was, my husband? And yes I will look into your background. Just to ensure my own curiosity Mr. Sinn, and to make sure I know exactly whom to hunt for if you do decide to take off with my money."

A small smile began to spread across Damon's face as he said, "That would be fine, and as to the other Mrs. Reltih, there are some things in this so called profession of mine that I can't disclose. My apologies for that."

"How did you come to be in this business Damon? Why is it you can travel into hell and come back again...How is it even possible?" He could hear the question coming before it was even uttered.

The truth of it being that most believe in hell as a place of fire and lava, with little dancing demons everywhere....Well the demons dancing part is right, but the fire and lava thing is way off. Hell, the word, came from a long time ago when the larger cities had to do something with their trash. They would dig a large pit. They then threw the trash in it, and caught it on fire to let burn. Then added the brimstones etc. to keep the fire going day and night. So if, lets say, the man of the house took out the trash he'd yell to his wife, "Honey I'm going to hell, be back after awhile." and down to or up to hell he'd go! I just still have to use the word because that's what people know and understand.

Coming into this business wasn't easy at all! First off you have to do something worthy to get you into hell, then you have to die, yup die. Now of coarse there are a lot of people and animals, (no animals aren't excluded) who do this all the time, but the life part of it is easy compared to what awaits you on the other side. After you do die, and are in hell, then you have to find the door out of "Hell", and that my friend, is the tricky part. I mean imagine all the time your getting whipped, beaten, scratched, bit, cut, shot, cursed at, bashed, and anything else you can think of, all the while trying to banish the nightmarish images that bombard your tiny little cranium while trying to disappear into shadows and search for a way away from it all...A WAY OUT!!!...Oh and then the climb, a long one that.

But the only reply that came from Mrs. Reltih's lips was, "How much money do you want to find my husband Mr. Reltih, Mr. Sinn?" " One and a half million." replied Damon without a moments hesitation. "I'll have it here for you tomorrow. How long will it take you to get him back?" Damon looked down in thought for a moment. "Two to three months, time moves different on different plains."

With that she stood up, turned and walked out, with out even a word or gesture. Upon shutting the door Damon returned to the chair behind the desk, full sniffer in hand to think about the job that lay before him. Then he wrote it on the desk top calendar that was soon to be bombarded by a bit of liquor and sleep slobber, but not to be forgotten by a bit of hell's brandy on the brain.

Chapter Three:

The following day.

Mrs. Reltih stopped back at about the time of Sgt. Kell's call the day before. Mrs. Reltih ringing the bell, and Damon allowing her to enter stepped back as she handed him an envelope. "One and a half million dollars Mr. Sinn and my cell number in case you need to contact me for any reason whatsoever, and upon completion call me day or night no matter the time." Spinning on her heel, and the door still open she began to walk away down the hall. Damon watching her as she went began to close the door but stopped as she drew up short looked back and said, "Please try to hurry Damon. I'm afraid my time where I am is growing short." and with a bit of batting her eyelashes was on her way again.

Closing the door now and returning to the desk Damon picked up the phone and hit one on the speed dial. After the fifth ring a nasally voice answered. "Tom-Tom's coins and collectables this is Tom what can I do for you?"

"Hey Tom it's Damon, you got time for a quick chat my friend?" "Yeah go ahead man." Replied Tom. "Well I got ahold of a job today and was wondering if you happen to have built up a bit of what I need?" "Oh yeah? Anyone I know?" "Are you kidding Tom?!? You don't know anyone except weirdos like me and the down trodden." With a bit of a laugh Tom replied, "Yeah I think your right there, hell with no old lady I don't get out much except to work, and being that I live here....but yeah I happen to run into a bit of luck myself and had a fair, nice looking lady come into the shop just today, sold me a bunch of the same you were just talking about. Though didn't get a name or a number though, she just spit on the floor and left." "Heh oh yeah?!? What did she look like?"

"Nice built figure, glasses, some kind of funky hat. Man I don't know, I didn't have my glasses on so I couldn't see much but that." "You didn't wear your glasses for inspection then!?!" asked Damon. "No man I didn't have to, I put all the coins under a magnifier lamp. What the hell did I need my glasses for?...But I did point the scope at her butt as she was walking out, nice one she had too, heh." "Naw sounds like a different gal altogether, oh well just hope this one isn't anything to nasty ya know? How much damage am I down for there Tom?"

"It's going to be the big one Mill my friend, and no I can't do anything more for ya unless you bring me some more of that terrific brandy of course." "No, I don't have any left Tom but I am going to get a few more bottles on this next trip and you can have one when I get back Okay." Tom replied, "Sounds good to me man, see ya in a few there Damon man." With that both hung up.

"Well this might not be such a bad job after all, but luck with the will, will not always be luck with the way." Walking down about a two and a half mile stretch, with a left here and a right there Damon ended up at Tom-Tom's Coins and Collectables. With a leather satchel around his shoulder and chest, and a tinkling of the store's front door bell, Damon entered.

After a second of allowing his eyes to adjust to the dimness of the interior of the store, Damon took an empty seat at the front of the counter to wait for Tom to finish with the only other customer in the store. Looking down into the glass to see some of the newer silver eagles looking back at him with that lustrous shininess beckoning to be bought, Damon said to himself. "Aaaa yes the illustrious coins, in all these years I still wonder why it's so important to a demon to have this old style currency. I'd think they would want virgin blood or something along those lines. Hhuummm....but five hundred thousand worth of that brandy will last quite some time I would imagine, heck that almost makes the trip worth it right there. Crap I only asked Tom for part of what I need! Shit!"

Upon that thought the twinkle of the bell brought Damon back to the here and now. "Uuhhh hey Tom, I aahhh kind of need more than that original amount. You see I..." Tom cut him off. "Well let me show you what I got for ya first, you might be surprised. I told ya I can't go no cheaper and this is why." Lifting a box from behind the counter from seemingly nowhere, and laying it in front of Damon to look into. "Damn that's a shit load compared to what usually comes along for the same price." "Yup I know it man, but I only paid, and I'll tell ya cause I know you don't give two shits, but only eight hundred thousand man!" "No shit! Nice, well hell easy enough, here ya go Tom, and thank you again." With the small bit of trust Damon had with people in the world, Tom was one of the very few. Then with a twinkle of the doorbell and a see ya later, Damon was out of the store and on the way back to his office in lower, middle class New York. Yup, where else did you think the only door to hell would be? Bad town, lower Brooklyn to be exact.

Chapter Four:

That very night....

Well as you might guess going into a part of town like that, at the time of evening Damon decided to go, is not the safest nor the smartest thing he could have done. But with want of that tantalizing demon brandy and the last of it going down his gullet for the trip, he was ready to start then and there. After dropping the extra five hundred thousand under the floor boards and putting the rug and desk back in place, and strapping on his armlets (etched with runes of protection), a rune etched sword, and securing the leather shoulder satchel with the coinage currency and extra armlets for Mr. Reltih for the return trip, he was out the door.

"TAXI!!!" With a screech and a quick turn that cut off about two people and almost causing an accident a taxi pulled up in front of Damon. With passenger window down the cabbie hailed Damon with, "Well what the hell ya wait'in for git in!" With a quick open and closing of the car door the cab sped off down the street. "Where ya head'in mister?" "Just get me as close as you can to lower Brooklyn." With a fast glance at his watch the cabbie said, "Salright, your life buddy."

The rest of the ride was uneventful in the normal New York traffic, and after paying the cab driver Damon set off in the direction of the doorway that would ever afflict his memories and thoughts.

"STOP YOU THIEVEING ASSHOLE!" from a lady a block down without her purse and shaking a fist at a young man running away from her. "SHUTUP YOU DUMB BITCH! I'M TRYING TO SLEEP!" this from a man across the street yelling out of a third story apartment building. "Damn you gotta love this town, so much to see in such a small place. Well better double time it so I get there before the real nice people show up."

Upon entering the alley that led to the door to hell, Damon unsheathed his sword and watched as the homeless scattered out behind him. After, there was not a movement except a stray cat under a mound of garbage, searching for it's dinner. "Well that's a good sign, the homeless usually won't stay around the really bad ones, so...." Walking still cautiously toward the end of the alley, and crouching down at the very end, Damon found, under a good few bags of trash and rubbish, the steel ring in the cobbles that made up the floor of the alley way. Then, with sheathing his sword and a quick look over his shoulder to make sure no one was watching him, Damon gave a double fisted mighty heave that made all the veins in his arms, head, and neck stand out as if they would burst. Then with a sound like the moaning of the damned the door slowly gave way for him, Damon stood back to allow the years of stench to escape, then went through the door, entering hell.

Chapter Five:

Through the door.

With another nice sound, the door to hell closed behind Damon. Sitting in a spot to allow his eyes to adjust was a short time before he got to his feet and began down the tunnel that seemed to go to the bowels of the earth itself, the constant descent the floor had was an ever going downward one. Damon knew this part of the trip was coming, so he unpacked a cigar he always replenished after each job, and lit it up. The trick to the tunnel is that the tunnel will only allow you to get where your going when you don't realize your already there. So the cigar would occupy his time on the descent, and by the time he was annoyed with it because it would burn to low, he would look up from stomping it out and cursing at the smoke in his eyes, and behold the river Stix. It worked every time.

Actually the river's name was soul's passing, it was the ferry man's name, Stix. For he was a tall spinally skinny thing under a cowl of ragged black. Always standing at the rear of the skiff like boat he piloted awaiting the souls of the newly damned, to take them on the final trip into hell, to meet the head of this nice world of damnation and sorrow. Yup, you got it Lucifer itself. I say itself because Lucifer can come to you in any shape or form it wishes. Tricky little thing, that one. But no fear of bringing that one back out, cause it'd never let me put the armlets on'em. Don't know why, it tricked me once to think it was a client I had at another time, had the bands out ready to put them on and everything. Lucifer's eyes got as big as saucers and refused to let me put them on.

Then demanded to know where I learned to make them while turning back to the loveable nightmarish demon "I" know "IT" to be. But the story of my armlets that helped me get out of hell the first time, when I actually died, is another entirely.

Then when Stix saw Damon coming toward him he extended his hand out for payment, Damon put one coin in Stix's hand. Closing his hand and putting the coin away, then with a gesture for Damon to sit down with the other, Damon entered the craft and sat down. Even a seat in hell will cost you, yes. With an effortless push of the long pole Stix used to guide the craft, the craft floated in an easy glide towards the further entrance, or first outpost of hell.

On the trip, always down river no matter the direction you travel, Damon pulled out one coin from the satchel and leaned back with an easy air about him, looking over the coin as he turned it in his hand he thought yet again about how they all wanted the old coinage like these. The old silver ones from, let me see....squinting in the low light of the river tunnel Damon could barely make out the mint of the coin. "Huh...just Liberty with the date of 1794, don't recognize the lady on it though. With United States of America, of coarse, on the other. Nice little eagle and wreath though I must say, and others to...almost all pre 1800's silver dollars."

Leaning back again Damon thought of how he was "in" hell already but the people you see here aren't people, just souls. The river is always flowing you know, but it does the will of the ferry man. Yes the river has a life of its own, though it needs guidance, and that guidance is Stix.

Chapter Six:

Hell's gate.

Stix brought his craft up along what would be likely a dock, though how so Damon could only guess. Before Damon could stand however Stix had used his pole to keep Damon seated, and extended his hand for payment. Though Damon had been on this ride many times Stix hadn't tried this trick in quite awhile, if payment is made while still in the boat the result is not a good one at all. As a matter of fact it had cost Damon many days of wondering through twisting turning passage ways of solid stone just to find his way back to this very dock, after getting thrown physically from the boat by Stix in an unknown location of his choice. Though that was Damon's first trip back into hell. Of course then it was all Stix and the two guards at the gate could do from splitting their sides with odd demonic laughter on his arrival back. "Well not this time." thought Damon.

Putting the coin at his full arms length, he tossed the coin a little further, but not so far as to let one of the guards run over and snatch it up. Stix greedily stepped one foot on the dock and swiped up the coin, and as he returned to his position, noticed that his passenger had already exited the craft. With a slight lisping hiss he sped off for a new passenger. "Damn I love it when something goes like I plan it, for just such a scenario." Was all Damon could think as he shook his head and started off.

Slowly adjusting himself from the ride and walking to the gate, Damon made sure the sheath of his sword and his armlets could be seen easily. After all a demon who knows he has a chance of getting killed by a armed human isn't as likely to want to fight, just get paid for passage. Which all must abide by in hell. For to kill the gate keepers means to seal the gates with absolutely no passage till another set of demon guards is written into place by Lucifer itself. The same goes for Stix and all other demons in the lands of hell. You kill them, your going to have to wait and either meet Lucifer and explain why you killed it's guards, or if it happened to be displeased with those particular guards you must wait till they are replaced, and you could easily starve to death in that time. Depending on Lucifer's pleasure of coarse.

"Aaaaa yes, if it isn't my favorite demon guards of the gate! Freddie and Fickle! How you boys been doing since the last time I was here, eh?" Damon strode right up to Freddie and pro-offered his hand for shaking as he said it, and then pressed the palmed coin into Freddie's hand as Damon took his hand or claw or whatever. Freddie's blood red pupils dilated slightly, understanding the pressure in the round hard metal with just a slight whiff of...umm...silver. Fickle began to step agitatedly toward Freddie and Damon, and said, "Damon why do you always walk up to Freddie first and not me?" Fickle was a pig faced ugly smaller demon that was very...well fickle in his actions and ways, and even in his beady eyed looks. He always seemed to be the weaker of the two also.

Freddie slowly secreted away the coin and said in nasty tones to Fickle, "Shut up before I put your ugly mug in front of the boss again, and let the boss know what kind of spineless moron you are for giving power over yourself to a human! In the first thing you say no less!" With that Freddie stepped up and back handed Fickle so hard it drew blood from his lip.

Fickle, wiping blood from his lip muttered, "I was just wondering. Damn! It's not like we see a lot of humans anyway! In fact Damon here is the only one on the return track anyway!" Freddie gave Fickle another bashing, this time a good solid punch to the mouth. The swelling was almost instantaneous. Then Freddie said while pointing up at Damon, "now I should take you in front of the boss for giving away information HE shouldn't get without payment you dumb crapbag!" Feeling slightly sorry for this stupid demon, Damon answered anyway, "Well I'll give you guys an extra two apiece for the info, so that's seven...." (dropping them into Freddie's hand), "and seven." Damon tossed the coins on the floor at Fickle's clawed feet.

Fickle crawled back to his knees and began to gather up the coins in a way only he could. Damon pointed over his shoulder with his thumb as he said to Freddie on the way through Hell's Gate. "Now that's a fickle bastard." The reverberating booming laughter that came from Freddie gave Damon pause just long enough for Freddie to say, "Hey Damon! On your next time through, you make sure to make me laugh like that again and I'll make sure you get through for nothing!" The laughter continued behind Damon for quite awhile. Presumably till Fickle got all his coins gathered up and put away.

Chapter Seven:

Hell's Kitchen.

Damon had a small smile splaying across his face as he passed the inner guards, handing each a coin on the way by with a small hello in an ill tempered kind of way. This attitude seemed to sit better with the demonic populace. With a nod of both guards heads, Damon knew the return trip would be that much easier through the gate. "Though come to think of it, Stix might be a little pissed off when I, or we, get there. Shit! Should have thought of that one. Oh well, we'll see I guess."

Now "Hell's Kitchen" as I've named it is a, well, it's kind of a mess hall if you will. it's the last outer reaches from hell's heart. The furthest one can travel within this realm of hell without the means of payment the demons require to get through the gate, or the knowledge of the one door that allows you to escape from hell. Now if you have payment I advise you take the route I've taken, because the door out of hell is a journey of hell in itself. Now here in hell's kitchen you can actually think and hear yourself do it, so the people in here are at least partly coherent.

Oh and in case your wondering, if you die with the old coins in your pocket, you may well have it there after judgement and your entrance into hell. Another thing is if you can get out, you'll know the way back in. Trust me on this one, you'll always know the way back. After you do get out you'll get your body back, though you may feel a little stiff. But on the other hand if you were cremated you still get your body back, but you would always have a very grey complexion about your whole person. I only know these things because of the little chat I had with Lucifer many years back. It seems amusement goes a long way in hell. Oh and the worst yet, you also earn yourself a job in the out posts of hell....for eternity. Though on the good side, your life span is increased by a few years on earth if you get out, heh, what a kick in the ass that one is eh?

"Okay where to start...hummmm...aaahhhh yes a young lady fascinated with a book and a mirror. Well at very least I should be able to get her attention." Walking up to the older woman Damon asked, "Mam do you happen to know where I could possibly find a man by the name of Mr. Reltih?" When no reply came Damon continued, "I'm sorry I don't know his first name. Say it is rare finding a woman here, what was your name mam?" With a startled and somewhat annoyed look on her face she pointed directly behind and to the right of her. She made no sign that Damon was even still there, he noticed as his eyes traveled back to her face, so he started on his way with a thank you and a nod of the head, the lady went straight back to whatever she was doing with her book and mirror.

On approaching a small man shivering in a small recessed shadowed area, Damon bent down cautiously and asked the man the same question. If he had heard of a man by the name of Mr. Reltih. The man stopped shivering in an instant, and looked Damon square in the face, with a look that was almost tranquil but with a bit of frightened curiosity. Stuttering he said, "I..I.I am M..MR...Mr. heltih...who..a..are..you?" "Well that's kind of a long story. What's important though is I'm here to take you back with me. Out of this place." (They don't always know where they are it seems.) "Well then let's get the hell out of here Mr. aaa...." "Damon, just call me Damon Okay Mr. Reltih." "Oka..y..Okay, let's just get going k?"

With that Damon guided Mr. Reltih as quickly as he could to the edge of hell's kitchen, as close as he could without pissing off the gate guards. "Mr. Reltih wait for me here okay. I have one more thing to get before I go." Mr. Reltih gripped the front of Damon's shirt with both hands and begged, "don't leave me behind for these animals anymore!! Let me go with you! I want to get out of here and get back to my wife! Please Damon help me! Don't leave me!!" Damon, removing Mr. Reltih's hands from his shirt front replied, "I'm not leaving you here, I was hired by your wife to get you out. So if you keep it together and do as I say you'll get out and back to her just fine, if you don't do as I say then it's so long Mr. Reltih! Okay! So I'll be right back, just stay here. Got it?" "Yes, yes got it, fine sorry, please hurry and I'll be right here waiting."

Damon started off in the direction of the actual kitchen, in which all the peoples of hell must go to eat. Though on getting your meal I think you would not have the appetite to eat it. The meal each person gets, you see, is the most horrid or phobic thing in which that single persons mind could entertain or think of. No matter how bad you wish to hold onto the earthly feeling of eating, or how much you want to hide your phobias and fears, you'll always get a nice meal of crap. With the thought of switching with a person sitting next to you, forget it, the meal vanishes as if non-existent. So then you get nothing to eat, until the following ringing of the bell(s), which goes through each sufferer's head at one hundred times the magnitude. The bell(s) are also for the changing of the guards, cooks and what have you. So you get served once a day, then must wait for the next. (anticipation is the killer.)

"Damn I can't believe this job has been so damned easy." Thought Damon as he walked toward the kitchen. "The extra money, which never happens, and all the good fortune in hell here.?. Shit I better start really being careful and watch my back more, something bad is bound to happen eventually...Oh man I just hope it's not the brandy that goes for the bad." By the end of this thought Damon was pushing open the two way door into Hell's Kitchen.

Chapter Eight:

A Cook...the Brandy Demon.

Damon stood just on the inside of the door to the kitchen, and looked about him, the faces of the demons working here were glowing with that soft red light of fueled heat. A full crew, hell must be pretty full right now. I wonder if there's a problem somewhere old Lucifer is ignoring. Humph...wouldn't doubt it a bit." The full crew consisted of a head cook, one assistant to the cook and three lickers.

What's a licker, well that's how Hell's Kitchen cleans there crockery and table ware. The demons that have this job are usually being rewarded for some reason or another, and they are usually quite large and rotund...Blimps really.

The cook and assistant were very rotund as well. Their job was kind of self explanatory, but they would get the feeling in there heads that there was someone new out there in hell and they're wanting food. So over to one of the two large pantries the assistant goes, and opens the doors to reveal the meal of the next person with a will yet to eat. The bloodied and gruesome things brought out of them will be omitted here, though one can only imagine...Or maybe you shouldn't?!

Spying through and eyeing the cook, Damon shouted over the fueling fires. "Gutterhorn, how good can one demon cook truly be?" A demon with only one long curving horn protruding from the right , off center of his head, looked up and answered. "By Lucifer, I could almost swear I've heard that voice before, the one and only human I know that I've not gutted." A large, three row, smile of teeth and fangs lit up Gutterhorn's face as he turned and saw Damon standing in the kitchen with him. "Damon, you little bastard, how are ya there my favorite little customer. you know how I love it when you use my full demon's name! Gives me that bristle of power! I get so little of that around here in the kitchen. Come on in and head back, I just gotta take care of this cretin first."

Damon complied to Gutterhorn's suggestion and started on his way through the main kitchen and back to Gutterhorn's private office and home, both in one. As he went, Damon watched over his right shoulder as Gutterhorn used a lead filled rubber stick, that he used for discipline, on the assistant. That brought the thoughts up in Damon's head about the rule of, "Full Demon Names". For you see, when in or out of hell, and you use the demon's full name to it's face it gains a fullness of form, and gains strength, as well as a very resolved, powerful will of spirit. You make it happy! Not good for you though in all cases, except Damon's of course.

Gutterhorn walked in right behind Damon, and, rummaging around in a couple of crates found the ones he was looking for. "Aahhh yes here we go. Heh wait till ya try these here little buddie. I've been tinkering around with this stuff and found out a better way of brewing it! I just adds one extra ingredient and Poof! I got the very same taste from it but, heh, get this. No hangovers! Yup it's something about the..." At this Damon held up his hand bidding Gutterhorn to stop. "Oh, right, right, yeah you probably wouldn't drink it no more if i's a told ya what I ferment to brew this stuff. That's okay, hey how much do you want? It's been awhile since yous been back to the snug holes they's calls homes.

After pocketing what Damon thought was over the amount he'd need he said. "Well can I get the usual conveyance for it?" "Sure...not a problem there." replied Gutterhorn, pulling down the top crates of brandy. He then began to put the bottles in a large duffle bag like thing, which had a small tire needle sticking out from a side of it.

"Well this is what I have for you Gutterhorn, you'll just have to treat your "favorite customer" in the best way you see fit." With saying as much Damon poured out the contents of his shoulder satchel onto the small table in front of him. As the coins went clanging and clinking to a halt, Gutterhorn stopped what he was doing and walked over to inspect his payment. His eyes dilated slightly from the mound the coins had made. He looked up at Damon with a bemused smile and began to get back to work, putting more bottles in the duffle bag. Gutterhorn spoke as he worked, "See there Damon, that's why yours me favorite, cause you don't go bitchin, moan'in and complain'in like the rest of the assholes round here. Ti's nice to get this space back though to." Gutterhorn left off with a faint chuckle, and stuffing a couple of bottles over what he thought he had payment for, into the bag, he slowly exhaled all the air from his lungs. Then sucked as hard as he could on the little needle coming out of the side. The bag began to get smaller and smaller, until Damon could fit it in his shoulder satchel.

Now one would think the bottles inside would break, but no, the dimension inside the bag would warp the contents to allow things in excess to be small and easy to carry. Upon opening it, you simply unscrewed the needle like flap. The bag then opens on its own accord. Then when empty it simply returns to it's owner, by way of turning inside out of itself. Thus going from point A to point B in a blink. Testy little creatures from what Gutterhorn told me of them.

Damon then buckled up the pouch and prepared to leave. "Well it was good to see ya again old Gutterhorn. I'm sure I'll be back down here again before ya know it, though with as much of this stuff as I have, I may not need more for quite some time. But don't fret I'll come in and tip you for a good demon broiled supper." "Heh, just don't forget the coinage or I gots to give ya the old special plate, ya know?!" "Oh I know, don't I know!" With that, Damon was through the door and on his way back to his client Mr. Reltih.

Chapter Nine:

The Trip Up.

Damon was ruminating to himself about the first trip he had made back into hell as he walked back to where he had left Mr. Reltih. "Holy crap this has got to be close to the first time I came back here, money wise anyway. Shit the only thing that really made that one easier was the fact I had just gotten out of hell, and I just happened to know where the person to be found was at in this unholy maze. Except that I had to go to all thirteen outer levels of hell just to get to him, but damn, it sure was worth it at the time. Got my home and business paid for, and most of the small commodities I needed for them to boot! Then it almost seemed like the demons got either greedier, or they just know they can get more for what I want...The latter sure would be a shitter!"

Damon had the extra set of armlets out for Mr. Reltih to put on by the time he walked back up to him. "Here Mr. Reltih put these on." said Damon handing him the armlets. Mr. Reltih took the armlets, and looking over them once, wrapped them around the bicep just as Damon's were. Then he clipped and locked them into place. Then with a more satisfied air, knowing Damon had indeed come back for him, Mr. Reltih looked up from his work, with that "did I do it right" look on his face and said, "Okay, I'm ready, let's go shall we?" "Indeed we shall, indeed we shall." Damon said as he started into a walk towards Hell's Gate and it's guards.

As they walked, Damon could see the question coming from Mr. Reltih even before he said. "So the other person you came for was not to be found, I assume, since you are alone?" "No, actually I was doing a business transaction with a worker down here." At this Mr. Reltih looked Damon sideways in the face with a disgusted and bewildered look and exclaimed. "You actually deal with these MONSTERS?" "Well...yes." Replied Damon. "There are certain things that you can get here and nowhere else. So when I come down here on a job I like to do what I can to make my trip a little more lucrative. Not to mention a little more enjoyable, and Mr. Reltih, I need you to remember what I said earlier about doing as I say. For these guards and such are not to be dealt with lightly, and having some sniveling, whining dog with me will not help in getting us back to the outside....UNDERSTAND!" With a downcast look Mr. Reltih replied, "Yes...I understand."

As they neared the gate, Damon was withdrawing his hand from his satchel with the coins to buy passage through it. But noticed that both guards, on this side, had their backs to the two men as the approached. Coughing a bit, Damon attempted to get the guards attention. They both whirled around and saw who it was drawing their attention away from the spectacle before them. One guard looked at the other, then they both walked up to the two men, clawed hands extending outward for payment. One said on getting closer, "Hey Damon, time to try and go home eh?" Then a wicked smile crossed his face. "That's the plan, yes sir." said Damon as casually as possible, then added more. "What in hell, is going on that is drawing your attentions through the grated bars there? I've never seen you guys do more than just stand here and look board and dull." As Damon said this he was attempting to look over the guard's shoulder's and through the bars to see just what it was.

As the last coin clinked into the demon's hand it kind of laughed and said, "Heh...you'll see, or better yet, I can tell you! The big boss let's us have some fun for awhile, say's all is good for awhile so go play, it say's. So we goes and plays! We just wait'in for an excuse to open the gate." The demon gave a slight nod towards the gate as he finished speaking. Then the other guard retorted, "And yous is the excuse...heh." At that the other guard hauled on the spoked wheel and the gate began to rumble open. What Damon saw on the other side, he was definitely not prepared for.

The body of Fickle was laying face down on the ground with a large pool of blood trailing away from where his head had once been. The two guards brushed past the two men frozen in a ghastly stare. Damon then noticed that Freddie's sword had a stain of blood still upon it, dangling from it's sheath as he was walking away from them, and Fickles head was in his right fist. In the other hand was a long pole spear, like the ones used to halt a charge of horsemen. This pole Freddie then thrust hard into the reddish ground with both clawed hands. Then when it was secure he picked up Fickles head again and walked back to about one hundred paces, close to where the other two guards already stood. When Freddie saw Damon he just nodded a bit in his general direction and started saying to the other two guards. "Okay the first to hit gits his first five, and first to hit goes first on the next...K!!" The other two guards shook there heads in the affirmative and one asked. "How much did he have built up? He was a greedy little one. More so than almost all of us." Freddie responded in kind by saying, "It is, I believe, about one hundred and thirty five total pieces. So we have quite a few games before us my friends! Of coarse being that he's dead he won't need them no more!" Then Freddie took Fickle's bodiless head and gave it a mighty chuck in a nice lobbing arc. He must have played this one before because, as Damon and Mr. Reltih still looked on, the head came down with a sickening dead "THUMP" right on top of the spear planted in the ground. On that que Damon and Mr. Reltih turned and walked toward the ferry man....Stix.

Stix was sitting in his skiff looking in the general direction of the players, not seeming to see the two approach. Damon halted Mr. Reltih before he jumped headlong into the skiff, and with a nonchalant toss, five coins hit the deck at Stix's cloaked feet. You couldn't see Stix's face under the cloak, but the shine of teeth was definitely under it. The coins disappeared and the seats were offered and taken. The next thing they knew, both men were dumped unceremoniously on the hard ground at the other end where Damon had first boarded Stix's skiff. Standing and looking over at Stix, Damon could see that, that was payback. For even more teeth seemed to be shinning out from under that shadowed hood. Damon tossed two more coins in the skiff, nodded to Stix in acknowledgement, and proceeded with Mr. Reltih in tow, towards the gapping mouth of the tunnel.

Chapter Ten:

The Reltih's

As they exited the door at the end of the tunnel, which got them both out of it's bowels as quickly as it could for some reason, the men both had to take pause to take in the fresh air of Brooklyn, and to allow their eyes to adjust to the bright sunlight streaming into the alleyway. "Ooohh....It seems so long ago that I was here." Said Mr. Reltih as he stretched his arms above his head. "Well, welcome back. Now we just have to get to my office down town and I'll call your wife so she can come and get you. I'm sure it'll be nice to get together with her again huh?" Said Damon as he started walking down the long alley towards the street so he could hail a cab. Quick stepping and catching up with Damon, Mr. Reltih said, "Oh yes it will be very nice indeed...I was tortured with visions down there you see...." He went quite pale so Damon continued the conversation. "Yes, yes I know. I've been there myself at one point." Then Damon thought to himself. "Well here he goes, the remembrances are going to eventually tear him apart and drive him insane. But you never know maybe this will be the one that doesn't, and will actually talk to me again. Sheesh....well you never know I guess." Exiting the alley Damon had his hand in the air already yelling "TAXI!"

With not sparing the horses the cab driver got them both back to Damon's office quickly and in one piece. Damon paid the cabbie and exited the taxi behind Mr. Reltih. Then leading, Damon guided Mr. Reltih to his office and had a seat, along with him. Then without a word to the other, Damon picked up the phone and dialed Mrs. Reltih's cell number. She picked up at the first ring saying, "Hello?" "Hello Mrs. Reltih this is Damon Sinn, say I'm down here at my office and I have someone with me that would very much like to see you and go home too." But before Damon could finish it all, the line was dead, so he hung up and said to Mr. Reltih. "Well I'd say your wife is on her way." Then he walked over to the liquor cabinet and took off his shoulder satchel and laid it down. Mr. Reltih asked, "Do you perhaps have a bathroom I can use?" "Yeah right through there." Damon said with the point of a finger.

Before Damon had time to even unscrew the needle on the bag the brandy was in, for he wanted a glass now that the job was over, Mr. Reltih had flushed the toilet and there was a knock at the door. Damon sighed and stood up, "Boy that was quick. She must have been in the neighborhood when I called her." Sure enough Mrs. Reltih came bursting by Damon as he opened the door, and she saw her husband over Damon's shoulder. With an exclaiming cry the couple embraced. Mrs. Reltih's purse went flying around to smack Mr. Reltih on the back from the momentum, only to swing back behind her again.

Damon shrugged and walked back to the liquor cabinet to start the task of putting the demon brandy away for later disposal, and to have a drink now, and perhaps pour one for the fortunate couple recently rejoined. But as Damon grabbed the twist needle Mr. Reltih said in very nasty tones. "I don't think you should do that Damon." Just from the tone of voice it made Damon take pause and look over his shoulder, just to see Mr. and Mrs. Reltih pointing guns in his general direction no less! "Ungrateful sonsabitches, what?...all that I did for you not enough? I told you I don't get hardly anything out of a job! So your robbing the wrong guy you dumbasses!" "Robbing you say?" said Mr. Reltih. "Nooo no, not robbing, just taking from the dead what they no longer need. As to the right guy, oh yes, I'd say you are the right guy. For you see my dear man, you have that demon brandy there with you in that little sack, and being that Gutterhorn would let me dip into it when I brought him a nice head, or arm, or whatever....uummmm, oh yes I've grown quite fond of it's taste. Not to mention the sanity that it helps bring on this side of the gate, once through it, eh? Or what of the half million you have stashed under the floor boards here, huummmm?" Dropped jawed Damon stifled out, "But how....." Then Mr. Reltih finished for him. "...Did I know? Easy, a small remote camera my wife planted on her first visit, it showed her where you eventually put the money. She just let me know during our little hug here."

Trying to resolve a quick way out of this, Damon slowly stood up and said, "Now Mr. Reltih you don't seem like the kind of person that would do that nasty kind of stuff, why don't we just...." "SHUT-UP!" yelled Mr. Reltih, with such a voice that Damon knew it to be one that was used to getting it's way. "You really have peoples "kinds" mixed up don't you Mr...." "Sinn." his wife finished. Mr. Reltih continued, "Yes pretty mixed up. You see Damon, this was all set up by myself a long time ago, though i'm quite surprised it didn't all fall apart towards the end there in Hell's Kitchen. I mean you must really be a blind, drunk, ignorant man Mr. Sinn. You see my wife here is dyslexic Mr. Sinn, so was the woman you talked to with the mirror and book. I mean...heh...what the hell else did you think she was doing with them but trying to read? It was just blind luck on my part that you asked her first and not anyone else. No one else would have known me by that name." Mr. Reltih saw the realization come over Damon's face, so he continued. "Yes Mr. Sinn that's right, for only now do you truly see just what "kind" of a person I truly am!"

Damon sat on the edge of the liquor cabinet heavily, then saying almost excitedly. "No...There's no way Lucifer would have let me take you out of hell...No Way!" Mr. Reltih busted out with a good amount of laughter before stopping and saying, "What, you don't think Lucifer and Hitler are good buddies in hell?! Shit I told him all about it and he laughed his ass right off his throne! Oh yes, Lucifer has had his eye on you the whole time, and this is my just payment to him for not interfering in this little escape of mine. Along with the different looks, and he even gave me a little more height!"

With the raw brutality of Adolph Hitler, he pulled the trigger and put a nine millimeter round in Damon's head. Damon dropped instantly dead on the shabby throw rug, and while he was drifting on the river of souls he could still see from his human eyes that the Hitlers' were done getting the money out of the floorboards and had made there quick escape.

Conclusion:

Damon's Job.

The instant realization of where he was, was sickening to him. Yes he was back in hell again. But worse yet, he realized he was on duty. He turned once around to make sure of his bearing, then showing itself from his mind and heart, he knew he was the new guard of the only door out of hell. The only one to find it would be the one to guard it in his death. He then saw that he was dressed in a like fashion as Stix, accept much more fiercely. His armlets were on his biceps, but the rune markings were all different and they had a blood red light about them. His sword was also on his hip, but the rune markings had changed on it as well, glowing with the same unearthly light as the armlets.

Then he felt it. A searing pain that seemed to start from the inside of his bones, in the very marrow. It felt as if he would catch fire and burn to a pile of ash. When he could stand it no longer Damon let out a scream that would have made upper demons of hell cringe and perhaps cower. As his scream ended, the burning pain slowly ended. Upon opening his eyes, Damon saw Lucifer standing in front of him. As Lucifer looked down on him, Damon realized he was on his knees, but that was the rightful position right now.

Looking up at Lucifer and regaining strength, Damon burst out again, but this time in a horrid, hollow laughter. It was the laughter of hell, but Lucifer made him stop by a move of his hand and bade him rise. Gaining his feet under himself Damon stood. Lucifer then took Damon by the shoulders and looked directly in his eyes and said, "Damon you have unleashed an ancient evil upon the world again, but you will right that and all wrongs done before this one. You will search out these evils and return them to me! For that kind of evil is mine and no others! This is why I allowed Adolph to escape with you. I knew he would be the one to kill you, and there for give me the opportunity to make you my general. Yes, the burning you felt is the intertwining of you within me! Yes Damon, you are now my general of hell, like it or not! You are my army of one! You are the new fire upon the earth that will consume all in your way, and you will never fail doing all the conquests I lay before you! Your power will be in the word of HELL itself! Upon hearing it the blood racing through you will consume you entirely and nothing will stop you from MY GLORY! Now GO!"

A new devil was unleashed upon the world that day!

So in telling someone to go to hell!..be careful, as it could cost you dearly!