Sara had broken her heel, ripped her resume, and had dirty gutter water oozing down her back.  If she hadn't found the eviction notice on her apartment door this morning she would have gotten herself a latte and spent the rest of the day sulking in bed despite having an interview. Life was kicking her ass and she needed a break.

She was going to the interview anyway. Her hope at present was that it was a small company run by blind women who couldn't see what a mess she was. And if she were lucky maybe that would prevent them from seeing all the blatant lies she had padded her resume with as well. If only being attracted to, and dumped by, the worlds worst losers were a job qualification she would be a CEO of a Fortune 500 company by now! 

She found the building where was supposed to be and entered the warehouse still limping from her new pump/flat ensemble and quickly tried to tie her dripping hair into some semblance of a ponytail.  It failed to dawn on her until she was in the center of the warehouse that the entire room contained only  a single desk and an old teal plastic school cafeteria chair.

The hair on her arms raised and she slowly started backing toward the door. No job was worth this level of creepiness. And with her luck she was a shoe in for the cover of next months Kidnapped Digest.

As she silently walked backwards she bumped into something solid and warm. She could feel someone's breath on the back of her neck. And the only thing she could think of was "oh, shit."

"Ms. White I presume?"

She spun around to see an average looking bald man with a bright Hollywood-worthy smile. His eyes were deep, and so brown they appeared black, and for some reason she had trouble focusing on them. Instead she looked toward the door.

"Oh, no, sorry. I'm not who your looking for. I was just given this address by mistake. No worries though, I can see my exit. Sorry to bother you, I'll leave before your date arrives."

His laughter made her warm. And soon she found herself relax and start laughing with him. Surely anyone with a laugh like warm velvet couldn't be a psycho killer.  He moved around her and sat on the desk. Feet dangling and swaying to some unknown rhythm.

"I know who you are Mrs. White. Sara, may I call you Sara?  It's perfectly natural to be nervous, this is an important interview and in a horrible space. I assure you this is not my normal office. But you are quite perfect for the job I have open and I wanted to be close enough to your apartment for you to walk here. I've heard your license has been revoked."

Sara's mouth hung open. She wondered how he knew all this. But deep in her gut her serial killer instinct stayed calm. Maybe she was in shock. That had to be it.

"You aren't in shock. You are just feeling comfortable because you are exactly where you should be for once in your life. Let's talk about the job shall we?"

Sara found her head nodding. Despite the quick beating of her heart she sat in the plastic chair with her damp clothing and broken shoes. She placed her hands in her lap and crossed her legs.

"Some of this may be difficult to believe or understand. But I assure you it will become clear by tonight's end. You have been chosen to be a messenger. It's a great position with plenty of perks and a pension plan. You will be financially stable to live as you please in any lifestyle.  You will work under me and I work under my boss. No other management exists. Are you with me so far?"

Sara nodded and thrust forward her resume. It's tattered cheap ink running down her hand and dripping on the floor. He shook his head to clarify he did not want the document and she shoved it back in her wet bag.

"You have been chosen as the next messenger of death, well, Satan, my boss. I am Nikko second in command. Our position isn't easy. It can be a depressing job to some. A hard job always. But it does have its benefits to society."

"Are you saying you want me to work for the devil?  As in horns and hell and pitchforks?"

He placed his palms on the desk and stared directly into her eyes. She instantly felt heat. Deep down inside heat that made her skin want to crawl off and hide in a corner. She could hear her blood coursing in her ears on its way to a boil.

"Sara. The devil is as real as you or I. There's no fairy tale at play here. He's been around since the beginning of time, before the cartoon caricatures and pitchforks were assigned."

She didn't want to argue with a serial killer psychopath, but at the moment she was stifling hot. Her damp clothes began waifing steam. She was in no mood for theological discussion. She needed out of this room before she erupted in spontaneous combustion.

"I'm sorry Nikko. Truly. But I'm agnostic. I don't believe in Gods or Devils or messengers of death. Now I'd just like to leave and start packing up my belongings before the landlord tosses what little I have on the street."

He waved his hand and her vision swam. Images of beautiful taut men with loincloth coverings filled her sight. Her heart thumped as they danced around her rubbing her shoulders and chest with cool palms and sweeping fingertips. She felt one nuzzle her neck and ear and her body responded with a low guttural moan.  They stopped as Nikko began speaking.

"He can be seductive, enchanting, beautiful."

The men disappeared except for one. A Thor like mammoth man with power illuminating from his being. In his hands was a sword gleaming with red light. As he turned Sara could see slashes upon his back and gouged holes where one would almost expect wings. She furrowed her brow and tried to logically understand what she was feeling and seeing. Again the figure froze when Nikko spoke.

"He was once made for beauty, seduction of soul, leader of music and the right hand of the King. Before he came to the understanding side of things. Aware that life and death are a delicate balance. Aware that power was something to be gained, and that man would use it for evil every chance they got."

As he spoke scenes of death camps flashed into view. Images of people burned at the stake, babies thrown into pits of dead bodies as they squirmed and wailed for comfort. Children on match stick legs with giant swollen stomachs opened and closed their hungry fish mouths. Sara covered her ears with her hands and shut her eyes but the pictures and constant wailings were coming from inside her head.

"Stop it! Stop it!"

She ignored the tears streaming down her face. And tried to scream out the images of flayed skin of the woman and men being tortured. The Thor like figure waved his red hot sword and all images stilled. The room came back into focus and Nikko was kneeling by her chair.

Remember these images. These are the reason you will reap. That cute little cherub in golden ringlets will be the worlds worst mass murderer. That woman cowering in the corner looking so innocent will be responsible for hundreds of deaths too horrible to allow families to identify remains. You will reap the black souls. Those destined for destroying human nature.

Sara thought about the whole impossible night. She looked at Nikko and asked the first thing that came into her mind.

"Why. Why would you want to stop death and destruction. You work for the Devil. Wouldn't he want these things to happen?"

Nikko grabbed her hand. Instantly she felt herself slip into a black hole of despair. Nothing mattered at that moment. Not life or death, happiness or sadness. There was room for nothing. The blackness had hollowed out everything.

"You see Sara?  If there's too much, then we have no room for advancement. To have sinners, you must have saints. We strive for domination. But it must come at precisely the right point. Tipping the scales too much or too soon would be catastrophic. The dance must match the music. And besides, the souls you reap can be nurtured until the harvesting time."

Sara hung her head in exhaustion. She thought about the proverbial question. Why me. But somehow she knew the answer. Why not her. She was just as plausible as any other human with no ties and nothing to lose. And yet, she wondered about the catch. Isn't that the saying, the devil is in the details.

Nikko handed her a form. Old and wrinkled on carbon paper in triplicate.

"Read it over. You'll see that you don't lose possession of your own soul. You don't believe in the afterlife anyway right?  We pay well, random amounts of cash in a bank that you choose. Housing is provided. And flights always first class. You will however, have to remain employed until the moment of your death. At which time your contract expires and your soul will be judged like any other mortals."

Sara thought about the images she had seen. Stopping that madness could only be a good thing. Currently she was void of skill, money, employment and companionship. Things could only improve. She grabbed the pen and signed her name quickly. The paper sizzled and blue flame caused it to disintegrate. 

Nikko handed her a set of keys. And shook her hand. A jolt of pain shot up her arm when they touched. He gave her a shy apologetic smile and she laughed as she rubbed out the sting.

"Your car is out front. The driver will take you to your new home. Your apartment contents will arrive within the hour, although you'll find your new accommodations fully furnished and quite to your liking. Take a week to get yourself together. I will send you your first assignment then."

Sara beamed as she walked out the door and melted into the leather seats of the towncar. Her body and mind were exhausted but for the first time in a long time she felt a twinge of hope for her future.

Nikko's laughter bounced off the empty walls. Lucifer placed his sword back in his sheath and slapped Nikko on the back.

"It never gets old does it?"

"Not yet Sir, but who knows. Eternity is forever after all.  Perhaps she will keep it, her humanity. And have the last laugh."

Nikko's vision swam with visions of Sara. Her naked body drenched in the blood of all of her victims. Headlines swirled each with a picture of Sara looking deranged and bloodthirsty.
-Manhunt For Greatest Serial Killer Ends.
-Killer states: Devil Made Me Do It
-Death penalty for Serial Killer On Hold For Psychiatric Evaluation.

Lucifer laughed as Nikko shook the images from his head. And together they left for their next interview.

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