“What?”
Several men in the church sniggered and the demon looked miserable.
“It means a very terrifying thing in the language of Hell.”
“I see. Well…Rupert—” there was more chuckling around the church, “–tell us how you came to be in Long Lofting. No doubt you were on some mission for the lord of darkness.”
“No. I just needed some time off. We’ve been working overtime. My back is killing me and Long Lofting was the nearest place that I could disappear to for a rest.”
“You’re skiving from work? That’s it?”
Rupert nodded.
“I don’t believe you. If you came from Hell, how come you fell downwards from the sky? Hell is meant to be the underworld.”
“Well, metaphorically speaking, Hell is
“Since when?”
“Oh, ages ago. And I mean ages. At first, Hell was a small place. Not many departed souls, very few sinners, not a lot for us to do really. And it was situated at the centre of the world. But as time’s gone by the number of departed souls has increased many thousand-fold and space became a problem. And let’s not forget how popular sinning has become. Recently, about a few hundred generations ago, Hell was moved. Instead of being encompassed by the world, it then surrounded it. After that, it started to lease parts of the world for its own purposes. Now there’s mostly Hell and very little world left. Just a few little villages like this one.”
“That explains why it’s been so hot,” said Prattle adding little of value to the conversation, as usual.
“Hot? You don’t know the meaning of the word,” replied Rupert.
“Where do the good people go when they die?” Asked Wiggery.
“The who?”
“The good people,” he repeated.
“I’m sorry, I don’t know what you’re talking about. I only ever deal with bad people. Bad people just like you lot.” The demon managed a half smile that faded quickly.
“What about heaven? What about the Great Father?” Asked Rickett.
Prattle shifted in his pew seat and scratched behind his neck. Then he seemed to notice something fascinating and previously undiscovered about the prayer book he ought to
have known backwards.
“Uhm, I think you’ll find that’s just a rumour,” said Rupert.
“A rumour?” Wiggery was dismayed.
“Yes, you know, just a story. A kind of legend or folk tale.”
“I know what a jazzing rumour is. How can it be so?”
“As far as I know, the world was created by the Lord of Darkness for his own personal pleasure and diversion. He made a bet with himself about how long it would take his flawed creations to come home to him through the path of sin. He invented the Great Father and other versions of him to keep a natural tension alive in the world and give people a reason to find sinning so tempting. The game’s almost over.”
“How long is left?”
“Oh, I don’t know for certain, but he’s been smiling a lot recently which is a sure sign he’s expecting to win the bet.”
“But he can’t lose the bet,” said I.
Others nodded.
“That’s true.” The demon yawned, exposing his impossible ivories. “Explains why he’s such a happy all- powerful being, I suppose.”
Prattle was absorbed by some passage in the prayer book. He didn’t seem to have noticed what the demon was saying.
“So, what you’re telling us,” said Wiggery, “is that when the last good person in the world starts sinning and then dies, the world will end?”
“Correct. Then Hell will carry on as it always has with everyone present like they should be.”
“Won’t that be hard work for you?” I asked.
“Oh no. Each time the world ends we have a party. Gets pretty wild, actually. We all have a rip-roaring time until the Lord of Darkness decides to create another world. We try to keep him so drunk he can’t remember to do it, but in the end he always does. It’s just a cycle, really. Quite natural when you think about it.”
“Natural? Are you insane?” Rickett was beside himself at the demon’s suggestions.
“Oh, yes. Absolutely. Couldn’t have got the job if I wasn’t.” Rupert looked exhausted. I thought of all the torturing of souls he must have been doing over the previous millennia. He was the sort of creature we were all going to get to know very well before too long, if what he was saying was true.
“How can we be sure you’re not deceiving us?” I asked.
“What would be the point of that?”
“Well…you’re a demon, Rupert. Deception is your thing.”
“If you don’t believe me, slit your throat and go see for yourself.”
It was the only way to be sure, but all of a sudden no one seemed all that curious about the truth. Was the demon bluffing? Was it merely as mad as a clubless bison in a herd of fertile bisonettes? I looked from side to side in the front pews and saw dejection on every face. What did anyone have left to look forward to now that we all knew our fate? Only Prattle seemed unflapped by the demon’s tidings. Studying his face it struck me that, far from being terrified by news of the future, he seemed resigned to it and perhaps a little embarrassed. The demon picked his moment to start bargaining with the timing of an ancient master in the art of temptation.
“That takes care of your eternal souls,” he said. “And seeing as every one of you is already damned, you might as well enjoy what little earthly time you have left by engaging your physical bodies in every whim of pleasure and excess you care to imagine. A virgin or two? I can get plenty of those. Hell, have three each if you want. I’ll even throw in a sheep for the more adventurous among you. I have access to many ecstatic potions and powders that are guaranteed to keep a man’s lance firm until his slaying is done. I have others that will transport you, if only temporarily, to heaven. You can have as much as you like. If you live another thirty or forty years that’s not much heaven, but it’s better than none at all. Let me think…oh yes, you’ll need music to keep you interested and maintain a good festive atmosphere. I’ll organise musicians. Anything else I’ve missed?”
“What about food and water?” asked one of the men. “We’re practically starving as it is. The well could run dry any time. What use will wine, women and song be to us if we’re too weak to move?”
The demon shrugged.
“I didn’t mention food because it was too obvious. I shall, as part of our bargain, provide a horn of plenty to be placed in the village square. No one will lack for anything until the day they die.”
“I don’t suppose there’s any chance you could save our souls, is there?” Asked Wiggery.
“Out of the question. I have tried to explain these things to you. Your souls belong to the Lord of Darkness. Which aspect of that fact that do you not understand? You can have anything else you want. Anything. But not your souls. And all I want in return is my tail. Deal?”
“NO! No one say anything,” I shouted. “Listen here, Rupert, I’m the one with your tail. You deal with me.”
“But these men all know what it is they want. Allow them a little pleasure before they enter eternal torment. I’m merely showing them mercy.”
“You’re merely trying to get your tail back and pervert the last few good folk in the world. Everyone out of the church. Go on, out! Now!”
Confused, and not a little upset to be missing out on every fantasy they’d entertained plus all the new ones the demon had created for them, the group of men filed out of the church. They grumbled. Some of them knocked their shoulders into me as they passed by. I saw a few of them steal glances at the tail I still held. I didn’t have much time before I lost control of the situation completely.
“Not you, Leopold,” I yelled. Where did he think he was going? “You stay here with me.”
When the men were outside I put an arm around Prattle’s shoulder and walked him towards the vestry. I
