I just stand there, too stunned to speak. I'm in Hell? That sucks!

The Devil is waiting for me to move. I'm still wedged into the corner of the lift, and the moment is fast becoming awkward.

"Come my dear," he says, "you're quite safe with me, there's nothing to be afraid of. We have crumpets!"

The Devils voice is not at all frightening. You'd expect it to be all deep and gravelly and full of menace, but in fact, it's quite cheerful in a quaint, British upper class kind of way. Typical really - all the best movie villains are Brits, so why not the Devil?

"Crumpets?" I hear myself say, then immediately feel really stupid. I meet the personification of Evil, and the first word I say to him is "crumpets"? Idiot.

"Yes, I dare say you're hungry? We were just toasting some on the fire while we awaited your arrival. Please, do come in." The Devil extends his hand towards the room (well manicured claws, I see) and steps back, away from the lift.

Oh well, nothing for it, I guess. I step out of the lift into a place the likes of which is obviously not anywhere in the real world. It is a huge cavern, with a vaulted roof that arches massively overhead, supported by twisted columns several hundred feet tall. Everything is a different shade of red - the floor, the columns, even the ceiling. The furthest reaches of the cavern are in darkness, and it could extend on forever, as far as I can tell. Silvery-white light emanates from seams of quartz or crystal that weave throughout the whole structure of the room, across the floors, columns and ceiling, giving the most amazing feel to the place. It was, quite frankly, pretty cool.

And hot. The temperature was stifling, although it didn't seem to bother me much. There's a huge fire at the centre of the cavern, throwing its own light and sound into the mix, flames rising fifty feet or more and roaring like a Guy Fawkes night bonfire. There are other sounds coming from it too - far away clangs and rattles like chains and hammers on rock, and distant screams and wails. I shudder to think what might be down in the pit where the flames come from.

The lift I'd come up in was nestled in a lump of rock that stuck up from the floor, like an afterthought. Its door close and I wondered if this is my fate sealed – delivered to Hell and destined to spend the rest of my time here for reasons that aren't yet clear to me. I watch the Devil as he walks over to a table surrounded by plush chairs, the type you get in boardrooms of swish companies - all polished wood and leather. There are glasses and jugs of water and an enormous plate of crumpets piled high in the centre. There are several people in suits milling around. It looks like they've been waiting a while.

The Devil sits down at the head of the table and indicates that I should sit at the other end. The other people (if that's the right word) take their places on either side. One chair remains vacant, to the right of the where the Devil sits.

I take my seat and considere the Devil while the others help themselves to a crumpet or two. He's shaped like a human, for the most part. He is about my hight, excluding the horns, and he doesn't appear to have a tail of any sort. Nor hoofed feet, judging by the expensive shoes. His suit is black and inlaid with silver threaded motifs that shift in the light when he moves. The fact that he is red skinned and has claws instead of nails are classic Devil imagery, for sure, but his face is not what I expected. It is both scary and somehow child-like, with an innocence that was wildly out of place. It was the eyes. No goat-eye split-pupils here. The Devil's eyes are two perfectly round black holes, giving him a surprised expression, like a baby farting. He never blinks. His nose is two thin slits, and his mouth is like something from a deep sea fish, with a wide, ear to ear grin full of sharp, pointed teeth. Given that he appeared to have no lips, I found myself wondering how he managed to talk so clearly.

The others around the table are ordinary people by the look of them, both male and female, all corporate suits, neat hairdo's and expensive watches. They are business like in manner, some taking pens out of pockets and straightening out notepads on the desk. It could have been the boardroom of a bank for all the interest they took in me or the Devil. None of them had said anything since my arrival.

"First of all," says the Devil, "let me offer you my sincerest apologies for your death. It was the only way I could get you here. It's the rules, you know – can't get round them. I promise, as soon as all this is finished, I'll send you back, if that's what you want."

"Er..."

"Right, down to business then. You may be wondering why you are here, Aveline," began the Devil. "Time is actually quite tight, so let me get straight to the point. Opportunities don't come around like this very often, and sometimes you have to grasp the nettle to get what you want. Aveline dear, I want to offer you a job."

"A job?" I reply in surprise. "Really? What kind of job?"

"Oh, a job with good prospects, career progression and a great pension at the end. And I'm sure you'll find it fulfilling, too. What I want you to do Aveline, is to kill a man," said the Devil.

"Kill?" I realised I was just repeating myself here and added, "Who? I mean, I'm not exactly the killing type! Why me?"

"Good question. Perhaps we should start at the beginning. The fact is Aveline, you are a special person. Unique even. You are not normal, if you know what I mean." Then, seeing the blank look on my face, he adds, "Do you know what I mean?"

The dreams, the weirdness, the rejection. Yes, I knew I wasn't normal. "I suppose," I ventured, cautiously.

"Aveline, you have powers that no-one else on Earth does. All you have to do is accept you have them, and then put them to good use."

"For you?" I ask.

"For every single living being on Earth. To put it bluntly – you are mankind's only hope."

Well, this just gets better and better. "How can I have special powers? I'm just a girl who gives people nightmares. Hardly special."

"Do you remember your parents? No? Well, let me fill you in a little here. Let's start with your mother. She was an angel before she came to earth. Not any kind of angel though – she was an Avenging Angel, tasked with carrying out judgement on those who's path led directly to Heaven, or not, as the case may be. She got bored of waiting for the rapture however, which seemed more and more likely never to come as the eons went by, and so she decided she would spend the rest of her life as a mortal on earth. Have you ever heard of a 'fallen angel' before?"

I nodded meekly. This was crazy shit.

The Devil continued, "The reason your mother wanted to live her life on earth was because of your father. He was a risen demon. I expect you've never heard of them before. Not something I like to get around, demons turning good and behaving themselves. It's not good for business. But suffice to say, it does happen occasionally.

"Now, a fallen angel and a risen demon getting together is very rare. Normally when they meet there is instant hatred that leads to all out murder, but in your parent's case, it was love at first sight. And for the first time in all of time, you were born as a result."

"That's... mad," is all I can find to say.

"I know! And here's the best part! You have inherited powers from both of them. You are the only half-angel, half-demon that has ever existed. And that, is what makes you so special."

"So, what powers do I have exactly?" I ask.

"From your father, the power to deceive others of your true identity, to trick them into thinking you are innocent and sweet, when in fact you are their worst nightmares come true. From your mother, the ability to know a person's true character, to see into their soul, as it were, and know if they are worthy. Or something like that, it's not my speciality to be honest. Oh, and she was handy with a sword. Comes with the avenging, you see."

Ah. Swords. My hands itch again.

"OK, so tell me this, my parents were two super-beings come to earth for love, who had supernatural powers, but they managed to die in a car crash?" That part just didn't make sense to me.

"You don't think your parents died in a car crash, do you?" says the Devil. "Your parents were killed by another being with powers beyond that of the ordinary. Why, I don't know. But it may be that he, she, or it was trying to kill you, as well. Perhaps along the way, you might discover who it was, and exact your revenge, so you see, there's something in it for you, too!"

"Wait a minute here," I say. "My parents were killed by some powerful being, who might have been trying to kill me. And I have powers I didn't know about which I need, in order to assassinate someone or something, to save mankind? This all sounds a bit... Harry Potter, doesn't it? What next? Am I going to a special school for angels and demons to hone my skills?" I was being flippant, and felt a bit detached from reality, like I was having an out of body experience, which I kind of was, I suppose. Or hoped.

"No need to train. You already have those powers. You just need to accept them. And it will all come easier now anyway."

"Why?"

"Because you're dead," stated the Devil.

This is all too much. A few hours ago I was an (almost) normal girl with good prospects, looking forward to as normal a life as possible without any drama. I would need therapy after this, I was sure.

"OK," I said, feeling anger rising up inside, "so who is it you want me to kill? Because if you think I'm going to kill God, or someone nice, or... or a kid, you can forget it."

The Devil laughed. "Aveline Flower," he says with a flourish. He puts his hands on the table and leans in towards me, "I want you to kill the Fifth Horseman of the Apocalypse!"

*

One of the suits slides a couple of manila folders at me across the desk. One has my name on it, the other has another name: Charles Hathershaw.

"Is this Charles Hathershaw the..."

"Fifth Horseman of the Apocalypse, yes," finished the Devil. "I know – not exactly a scary or evil name, but then it isn't meant to be. Actually, he's quite charming, normally."

"I thought there were only four Horsemen," I said, thinking that somewhere in the distant past I'd heard that from a teacher, or case worker.

"Yes, that's right - Famine, Pestilence, War and Death have been the four Horsemen for several millennia, but it was thought necessary to have another to keep things in balance and to come bang up-to-date with modern life. They all have a role to play day to day, you know, not all just End of the World stuff."

"So, what is this Charles the Horseman of?" I ask.

"Charles Hathershaw is the Horseman of Commercial Enterprise." The Devil smooths his sleeves and tugs at his cuffs to straighten out non-existent wrinkles.

I feel somewhat underwhelmed. "OK, and what does he do, exactly?"

"His job is – was - to create financial success or instability, which in turn drives technological development and progress, leading ultimately to conditions suitable to the starting of wars; the constriction in supplies of food and water; and the poisoning of helpless people from industrial waste. In short, his remit was to give the other Horsemen room in which to work in an age when communication means good old 'Acts of God', as they were so often mistakenly called, cannot be done without giving the game away. If left unchecked, mankind would be its own worst enemy. Left to its own devices, it would destroy itself through ruining the finely balanced environment that took us so much tweaking to get right, or unleash its nuclear arsenal resulting in an assured mutual destruction of all life. In short, mankind needs managing, and the Horsemen have always been the means by which that management is delivered."

'Whoa. So, first of all, you used the word us there, and second, you said he was doing these things..." I was trying hard to keep up here, but there's so much to take in it all seems to be washing over me.

"By us, I mean God and I. Despite what you might think, we do have to work together sometimes, as much as a drag as it is. And by was, I mean exactly that. He was working for us. Now he isn't. To use a quaint business term, he has 'set up on his own'. And his intentions, as far as we understand them, are to release Armageddon and so remodel the world in his image. To start again, with him in charge. Call it a Corporate Takeover, if you will."

I realise I'm staring at the Devil with my mouth open and close it quickly. Something is missing from this picture, I think, and suddenly my mind makes a mental leap and I realise what it is.

"God!" I shout, "What about him? Why isn't he doing anything? Surely he just needs to... smite him... or something. Why are you asking me to deal with him?"

"Because, my dear," said the Devil , clearly revelling the delivery of his next words, "God has disappeared. We think Charles has kidnapped him."

I look down at the folders and sigh. What a ridiculous situation. And I still didn't know how I was supposed to do what was being asked of me! I take a crumpet from the pile and bite into it. I feel the need for comfort food. Mmmm. Nice.

"So, how do I find him, and what do you suggest I do to kill him?"

"First, you have to find the other four Horsemen. You will need to get them on your side to overcome the armies of corporate greed that stand in your way. That will be your first challenge. Then, after you have done that, you will need to find Charles. Get close to him and, well, do your stuff."

"What stuff?" I ask, feeling like the kid who's always been left out of the game and who now doesn't know how to play when invited in.

"Oh, I'm sure it will come to you," said the Devil, with a Devilish grin.

"You don't know, do you!"

The Devil just looks at me, and takes a crumpet from the pile on the table.

"Time to go," he says.