Medusa sat on a twisted pile of petrified human remains which we had roughly shaped into a throne, as per her orders. My fellow imps and I swept up dust and gravel in an attempt to look busy, carefully avoiding Medusa’s gaze. The snakes that wreathed her head hissed and spat angrily so we knew that she was in a bad mood. As it turns out, the busywork wasn’t needed. The hellhounds had just come back, and they failed again.

Five of those big, drooling beasts had gathered in front of her, slobbering blood and maggots everywhere. I’d have cleaned it, but I figured Medusa was in the mood for murder, so I waited. She slowly stood up from her throne, stepped carefully around a ribcage and smiled, almost invitingly at the hounds. The lead dog wagged his tail pathetically in front of her. Can’t say I blame him, really. Medusa’s a pretty one. Pale skin, thin frail-looking body, small round breasts; she never wears a lick of clothing, and everything about her just cries out “look at me.” You shouldn’t, of course, unless you either (a) have a good hiding spot or (b) suddenly decided you’d like to be made of stone.

Medusa leaned down and whispered into the dog’s ear soothingly. “You poor thing. Are you hurt? No?” Medusa grabbed the hound’s fur and gazed into its eyes, smiling wickedly, “You will be soon.”

Starting with the feet, the hound’s body turned to stone. It cried out in agony and the other hounds just backed away with their tails between their legs, careful to look at only the floor. Medusa wasn’t done yet though. See, she doesn’t have to turn people to stone if she doesn’t want to. She can also turn people back to flesh and blood whenever she wants, though if it were me, I’d rather stay stone forever.

Medusa picked up a petrified femur bone, brandishing it with both hands. She brought it down on the lead hound’s lower jaw with a scream, smashing the stone into pieces. After that, she broke each of the hound’s legs and threw them across the room. “Come back to life, dog,” she said. And it did, but minus a lower jaw and legs. It spewed black blood everywhere, and she watched its death throes for minutes before it stopped moving and turned to ash. With a flick of her wrist the remaining hellhounds caught fire, and then simply disappeared, sent back where they belong.

Then she looked at ME. I just kept my eyes glued to her feet. Even her feet were pretty.

“Arnos. I have a task for you,” she purred.

In practice, that means all the other imps hid while I was busy admiring her toes.

“I’ll get right to cleaning up the mess, Master,” I said.

“No Arnos, I have something else in mind for you.” Medusa crouched down and cupped my scaly little chin. It was nice, but I clamped my eyes shut, just in case. She doesn’t like it much if you look without permission. “Look at me, Arnos.”

I looked at her, hoping that she would at least grant me a quicker death than the hellhound. But when I looked into her eyes, I didn’t turn to stone. Her yellow eyes glinted in the darkness, and the snakes in her hair moved about hypnotically, testing the air with forked tongues. Her mouth was curved upwards on one side, as if she were laughing inwardly at a joke only she got.

“There. Isn’t that better?”

I just nodded, not wanting to disagree in any way.

“Go down to the Pit and get me a scrying orb.”

I swallowed hard. I hated the Pit. It wasn’t the smell, or the unpleasant creatures that lived in the Pit. It was the work that was inevitably involved with traveling there. That and the searing pain that often accompanied said work. So, of course I told her:

“Of course, Master, no problem. I’ll be back in a jiffy.”

Yeah, I know. I’m spineless. But that’s just how it is when you’re an imp.

*****

I flew away from Medusa’s throne, and traveled deep into the bowels of the old asylum. Creepy and cliché, yes, but at least nobody bothers us much. The odd heroic fellow stops by now and then, but Medusa usually makes short work of them. The Pit is the lowest level of the asylum, the place where the most hopeless and undesirable cases went, back in the day. Mind you, there’s no humans left now. The few that remained now adorn Medusa’s fabulous throne. No, now the Pit holds all manner of stupid, unpleasant beasts who guard whatever it is that Medusa thinks is important at the time.

The scrying orb was under the dubious protection of Jeb the Blob. Jeb looks a lot like his namesake implies. He’s a giant, gelatinous blob of flesh with stubby arms and a fat face, both of which are obscured by his enormous girth. He was sleeping, as usual. You don’t get to be that fat by expending any unnecessary effort. I tiptoed up to him and steeled myself to the journey ahead. Jeb’s not much of a guard, really. But he’s so damned heavy, Medusa just gets him to sit on stuff. Even if someone killed him, they’d never be able to move the bastard.

I lifted up a piece of his flab, and prepared to crawl underneath, to find the orb. You wouldn’t think it, but as it turns out, Jeb’s a light sleeper. He woke with a start, and yelled in a surprisingly high-pitched voice for such a full man.

“What are you doing, Arnos? You bringing me supper?”

“No.” I squeaked confidently. “I need the orb you’re sitting on.”

Jeb uttered a nasally, snorting little laugh. “Get me some food, little thing, and I’ll think about it.”

“Come on,” I said. “I don’t have time for this.”

Jeb oozed towards me grotesquely. I had to jump backwards to avoid becoming enveloped in his flab. “I’m hungry NOW Imp. Get me some food, or maybe I’ll just eat you and be done with it.”

“Fine. Start looking for that orb, wherever you’ve got it wedged. I’ll get you food.”

*****

Jeb would eat just about anything you put in front of him. The problem is finding enough food to satisfy him. Given my stature, I was unlikely to find someone to fill the role of dinner, so I had to search the pantry. The pantry was filled with cobwebs, insects and rotting refuse. Which was great, but there just wasn’t enough of it left. I grabbed two burlap bags, and filled one halfway up with the food, grumbling all the while.

Suddenly, a sound behind me.

“Heya, Arnos.” A voice whispered. “Got time for a game?”

Razor. Seriously, he’s one crazy ghoul. Used to be a human, but turned into a ghoul after a run in with the undead while he was burying some corpses ten years ago.  Way I hear it, he raped his mother, killed her, and then killed his new stepdad. Someone had momma issues. Anyway, this guy is usually trouble. Keeps himself occupied by cutting himself and others with razors. Which would be fine if it wasn’t for the others part.

“I don’t have time for this, Razor,” I said. “Gotta get something for Medusa from the Blob.”

He looked a bit put out, but then smiled a little too wide. “He ain’t gonna be satisfied with that bit of food, you know.”

“Yeah, I’m working on it.”

“I got food. Lots of it. Play a game with me, and it’s yours.”

I put the food down, and flew up to eye level with him. “What do you have in mind?”

“Play ‘I Never’ with me. You know the rules. We’ll play to four points, since you’re in a hurry,” Razor said as he handed me a, you guessed it, razor.

It’s stupid game. Says he learned it in university, which I doubt. Dumber than a bag of nails that guy is. Anyway, one person starts by saying something that they have never done, like “I have never eaten slugs.” If the other person did that something, you get to cut them. Normally I’d just lie my little impish ass off, but it’s not so simple. If demons seal in blood first, they have to tell the truth.

Razor cut his hand, and extended it. I did the same, and the game began. Razor spoke first.

“I never flew before,” he said triumphantly.

I just held out my arm, and he cut me, deep and painful.

“I never had sex with my mother.”

Razor frowned as he held out his arm, “That’s mean.”

“That’s life,” I replied as I slashed his wrist. That’s the only reason anyone plays this game, really. To cut people.

Razor smiled. “I never … spied on Medusa when she wasn’t looking.”

“Feh. Only because she keeps you locked in the Pit all the time because you’re so damn ugly,” I said as he slashed my wing.

“I never … cut myself because I was bored. No seriously, I haven’t. It’s only you weirdo,” I said as I cut his leg.

“Oh yeah?” Razor said. “Well, I never spent a day cleaning up dog shit.”

“I’m willing to bet you’ve never cleaned anything before, OW. Watch the face, jerk,” I said as he slashed my face. “Okay, I never … stabbed a human.” It’s true. I’ve clawed, bit, and tripped humans, but I’ve never used a weapon against them.

“Pansy,” he said as I cut his zombified throat. “Well then, I never … disobeyed Medusa.”

“Nice try, but no blackmail material for you. Don’t look at me like that, it’s true! You think I got the guts to do that? Besides, we did the blood bond. Now, it’s my turn. I never liked a single human I’ve met.”

“That ain’t fair,” Razor complained as I stabbed him in the chest, smiling all the while. “You wanna play again?”

“The food, Razor.”

“Yeah, right, right. Come on then.”

*****

Razor led me through the winding corridors of the asylum, getting ever closer to his hidden stash of food. Razor is too curious for his own good. I suspect that’s one of the major reasons he got thrown down into the Pit. Imps don’t rank much higher than ghouls, but I know when to keep my mouth shut … Usually.

“So what are you getting from Jeb, buddy? Something nice? Something shiny?” Razor said, with a nudge.

“Just some scrying orb.” I said with the wave of my hand.

Razor’s eyes lit up for a moment, and his smile became more pronounced and phony. “Whatchya suppose it’d take to give old Razor a chance to use that? You know, just before Medusa gets it.”

“No chance. Just get me the food”

Razor’s ever-present smile faltered a bit, and he nodded, leading me the rest of the way in silence. The food turned out to be three bags of old potatoes, a slab rotting meat, and what I can only assume was a large ball of pocket lint. Whatever. Jeb will eat anything.

“So, Arnos … you need some help carrying all that? Pretty heavy stuff for such a little guy.” Razor said, wringing his hands. I knew better.

“Listen, Razor. I ain’t gonna say it again.”

“Okay, okay. Go on then,” Razor said as he sat down on the ground, his bones creaking.

I only turned my back on him for a second as I was leaving, but that was long enough. Razor threw a blade right through my wing, and the food and I went sprawling across the floor. Razor reached over and grabbed me, putting a razor blade right up against my eye, grinning wide.

“I tried to do it nice, Arnos. Now I think I’ll just get the orb for myself, and bring it up to Medusa later.”

Now, I’m no tough guy, really. But I’ll be blessed by a clergyman before I let a ghoul pull one over on me. I shrunk myself, and escaped his grasp easily. He swung that blade around wildly, growling as he missed over and over. I climbed onto his back and carved him with my tiny claws. The freak probably didn’t even feel it, being dead so long.

I got careless, and right when I finished cutting him, he grabbed me tight, crushing the air out of me.

“Ha! Not so tough now, huh Arnos? You’re going to DIE a slow, painful, bloody death” Razor said as he placed his blade on my throat.

“You can warm up my spot in Hell first, you stupid ghoul.” Or rather, that’s what I wanted to say but it actually came out more like “…Warm …*gasp* … stew….” The important thing was, I finished my spell. Carved it right into his back just moments before.

The runes I carved on Razor’s back exploded into flame, and the smell of burning flesh filled the room. Razor dropped me, and started rolling around on the ground ridiculously. But it didn’t help. Hellfire was burning through him, and would consume his body until there was no flesh left. He cried out for help, but there was no helping him. Demon magic is short on mercy. I watched his pitiful death throes until only a charred skeleton remained.

I thought about adding Razor’s remains to the menu – Jeb likes barbecue – but decided against it. Jeb might choke on the bones, and killing two minions in one night would have probably made Medusa angry. And I like living.

*****

Jeb ate all the food surprisingly fast, with the bits of food that missed his mouth dribbling down onto his giant gut. He finished by smacking his lips loudly, and uttering a contented sigh.

“You have the orb, don’t you Jeb?” I asked impatiently.

“Yeah, um, of course. Just got to find it … ” I heard a disgusting popping sound, and a black, glassy orb rolled out from underneath the Blob. I wrapped the scrying crystal in a burlap bag before going on my way.

Just then, Jeb looked up towards the door. “Whoa, you’ve lost a lot of weight buddy …”

I turned around just in time to find Razor’s skeletal fist colliding with my face. Even as a skeleton, ghouls have freakish strength, and I was sent flying into Jeb’s stomach. Which was good and bad. It cushioned my fall, but it wasn’t exactly easy to get up.

Razor’s skeleton knelt down by the orb, removing it from its protective sack. Razor made no sound – he couldn’t, not with his body burned like that – but just stared into the scrying crystal with his eyeless sockets. Now, I only saw the end of whatever it was Razor wanted to see with that orb, because it took me a while to pull myself free of Jeb’s flab. But I gotta say, Razor surprised me.

Razor was watching a dog, and old, decrepit german shepherd with cataracts and a hearing problem. It was lying down on the floor of some human trailer, while an older man was opening a can of dog food. And that’s it. That’s what Razor almost died (again) trying to see. Humans seriously don’t make any sense at all.

But Razor was satisfied with that.  If he still had a face left, I would have sworn that he was smiling ear to ear. He left without another word or gesture. We don’t get much trouble out of Razor now. Heck, we don’t call him that anymore either. Now everyone just calls him Smiley.

Right, where was I? Oh yeah, bringing the orb back to Medusa. It all went fine after that, really.

Once Medusa had the orb, she looked at me again and even brushed my cheek. “Good job, Arnos,” she said. Music to my ears. Even better than the sound of a raging inferno.