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From: Rachael Ross <rache_696@yahoo.com>
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Subject: {ASSM} Middle Sounds Bad by Rachael Ross (F, Fantasy, Violent, Humor, No Sex)
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Date: Mon, 23 Oct 2006 09:10:04 -0400
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<1st attachment, "middle sounds bad.txt" begin>

Middle Sounds Bad Copyright 2006 Rachael Ross all rights reserved.  Story
Codes: F/M+, Fantasy, Violent, Humor, No Sex
Note: I wanted to write another Halloween story, but this turned out not
to be it.  The title is just what I called the file, no other one occurs to
me except 'What the Seven Thunders Said' but I'm saving that.

   =-=-=-=-=-=-=-

   Middle Sounds Bad by rache

   Hell ain't so bad, once you get used to it.  I mean yeah, some places
suck, but it's like any other big city.  You got your slums over there, the
ghetto down that way, the low-rent, government subsidized, welfare funded
crack hood just down that direction.  But there's suburbia too, and up in
the hills we got some nice places, and downtown we got your eclectic mix of
personality.  All the big-wigs live uptown these days, close to their
offices.  Fucking lawyers, you know.

   I was staying with my live-in at that time, a cute little thing named
Lizzie Borden.  Kind of a psychotic bitch, she liked to call me 'sis' all
the time, but real handy in the kitchen.  I'm not much for cooking.  I had
my boy too, Freddie.  The Germans are real popular here, especially the
Nazi's and I could have had Himmler off eBay once, but I like a little
dialogue during sex, you know?  Anyway, Nietzsche is a pretty funny guy and
he looks good in Armani.

   I was coming home from work, dead tired as usual, when I got my summons.
I'd taken up screenwriting, mostly cause nobody else would do it; most
people here pretty much fall back into their old lives.  They don't have to
of course, and I didn't have an old life to fall back on anyway.  I could
have gone into teaching I suppose, that might have been interesting, but
somehow I ended up pushing words.  My old boy toy, Goethe, had ruined me,
the bastard.  I was supervising for Huston, something called 'Apocryphage'
written by Billy Wilder.  Wilder wasn't around though.  Rumor was he'd got
into heaven for doing Sunset Boulevard, but nobody really believed that.  I
mean, didn't he say he didn't go to church because it made his nylons
baggy?

   I parked my little Jag in the drive and sat there for a moment, just
looking around.  It was a nice house.  I had a nice yard, a garden around
back with a pool and a fountain.  Martin Luther had lived in it for awhile,
and that made it special to me.  I didn't feel like answering the summons.
Lizzy was at the door smiling, probably holding a margarita for me.  My
little muffin.  I really did love her and so that's why I started the car,
adjusted my rearview mirror so I wouldn't have to look at myself, and took
the big circle back out.

   Life is all circles.

   I put my car in long-term parking, frowning as I took the ticket from
the machine.  I tossed it on the dash and drove slowly down the rows until
I found a good spot in the shade.  Shade is everything in hell, you learn
that quick.

   The summons was a good one and I didn't have a lot of time, so I
undressed quickly, folding my dress carefully and putting it in the trunk
with my purse.  I tossed my bra and panties in too, rather less carefully,
and paused for a second, thinking.  My earrings.  I took those off as well,
and my watch and the ring Lizzy had given me for Christmas our first year
together...That seemed so long ago now.  It was woven from some of her
hair. I remember trying to explain to her that Christmas wasn't a big
holiday in Hell, but she just laughed.  Sometimes I envied her madness.

   I closed the trunk and walked into Hell proper, the ninth circle, which
was also called the first circle, depending on your disposition and
upbringing.  I just called it the real deal, cause it was pretty
unpleasant. Hitler was in there someplace, Ghandi too, Mrs...Not Mr.  He
was a peach.  Stalin, and Pol Pot were around.  Hell, it seemed like half
the twentieth century was doing hard labor.  Sometimes it just didn't pay
to be a politician.

   "Libbyyyyyyy..." Balthazar was behind the front desk, smiling at me and
playing with his penis, which is extremely long and unusually hard.  Even
for a sexy demon like him.

   "Hey." I nodded and leaned on the desk, peeking over to see his cock a
little better.  "How's it hangin?" I asked with a grin.

   "Like a fuckin monkey, babe." He licked his lips.  "You come for a ride,
or you got some business?"

   "I'm getting summoned." I shrugged.

   "Oh yeah?" The Big B sat up a little higher.

   "Yeah, it's giving me a headache too." I frowned.  "Amateur night."

   "Where'd they get your name?" he wondered and I'd been wondering the
same thing myself.

   "I dunno, probably some apocrypha bullshit." I shrugged.  "If I end up
on fuckin Google though..."

   "Heh!" Balthazar chuckled.  "If you start World War III give me a ring,
okay?  I wanna settle with France."

   "Yeah, don't worry, I start the apocalypse and you'll be the first to
know." I nodded.  "So anyway, he in there?" I jerked my head at the big
doors.

   "Yep, playin' with his new toy." B gave me a little grin.

   "Who's that?" I asked, eyeing the black marble doors pensively.

   "Elvis Fucking Presley" Balthazar nodded seriously.

   "The King?" I stared at the demon like he had to be pulling my leg. 
"Everybody knows he's in heaven, come on."

   "Yeah I swear, the guy wanted to do a fuckin tour, you believe that?"

   "What?" I laughed.  "Elvis is touring?"

   "Yep, and he's in there right now...Go on, he ain't gonna mind."

   "If you're fuckin me I'm gonna feed your cock to Jeffrey Dahlmer." I
warned him, but I knew he wasn't lying, not about something big like Elvis.

   "Heh.  Dahlmer had his chance, I fucked him in the ass and sent him to
Kansas!" Meaning he was stuck with Judy Garland for all eternity.  Some
people get the hell they deserve.

   I entered slowly, ignoring the pounding in my head.  That summons was
driving me up the wall and I wouldn't be able to ignore it much longer.

   "Lilith!" Lucifer smiled and Elvis turned around from the buffet, his
mouth stuffed with cottage cheese.

   "Hey." I smiled back and he walked over giving me a little hug, grabbing
my bare ass and squeezing it.

   Lucifer really is the most beautiful of all God's creations.  I'm pretty
good looking myself, as all angels are, fallen or otherwise, but Lucifer,
he's a heartbreaker and I felt my nipples harden as he finally let me go.

   "What's the occasion?" He grinned at me, looking my unclothed body up
and down slowly.  "You all dressed up and no one to blow?"

   I laughed and shook my head.  "I might have someone to blow, I'm not
sure.  I'm getting a summons."

   "Is that right?" Lucifer stuck out his bottom lip and nodded.  "Hey come
here, meet the King of Rock n Roll, baby."

   Elvis it seemed had been sentenced to spend some small portion of
eternity eating salad.  Lucifer had set up a huge salad bar and Elvis had
to eat until he finished it all, or it finished him.  Of course servants
kept running in and refilling everything as fast as Elvis was eating, so
he'd probably be there for awhile.

   "You got him eating?" I gave Lucifer a look.  "That was the best you
could come up with?"

   "We had a contest, you know, for the kids." Lucifer shrugged.  "I'd have
made him play bingo with Osama bin-Laden for a thousand years, but that
bastard won't die.  He made a deal with somebody and when I find out
who..."

   "Don't look at me." I held up my hands.  "I haven't talked to anyone
since that thing with Mets in '69."

   "I knew that was you..." Lucifer laughed.  "Oh you bitch!  I lost Lord
fuckin Byron on that series."

   "Hey, you win some...and you lose some." I grinned at him.  "That was
for stiffing me with Howard Hughes for three weeks while his condo was
sprayed.  God, what an asshole!"

   "He liked you though." Lucifer shrugged.

   "He doesn't like anyone." I shook my head.  "I sent him anthrax for his
birthday last year."

   "Hehe...I know, he complained loud and long, baby." Lucifer led me over
to his office, which was nothing more than a desk with a dozen phones on it
and a chair in the dead center of hell.  He had his finger up my ass, sort
of pushing me along the floor as I squirmed.

   "So, this summons..." Lucifer shook his head.  "You know the rules,
right?  I don't need no incidents, you know?  The DMZ is nice and peaceful
and business is good for everybody."

   "Yeah, I know the rules." I shrugged.

   "And I know you.  You're a fuckin rules lawyer.  If these guys are
legit, whoever they are, you do your thing and get out."

   "And if they're flakes..." I grinned, cause I could tell what they were
already.  The summoning they used was weak and corrupt.

   "Then fuck em." Lucifer shrugged.  "Just don't go crazy up there."

   "It's only six hundred and sixty six days." I said.  "Not enough time to
go crazy."

   "Yeah, well, fuckin Gabriel started the Crusades in two weeks with a
pogo stick and some chewing gum, so watch your sweet little ass.  You start
messin' around and they're gonna come gunning for you."

   "And that's a bad thing?" I smirked.

   "Well, it's up to you.  I'm just doin my job here." He stuck his tongue
out at me.

   "Yeah, okay...I'll be good, Daddy." I promised petulantly and Lucifer
laughed.

   A summoning wasn't a big deal; I mean it happened once in awhile.  Less
now than it used to, but these things are cyclic anyway.  It was rare for
me though, since I was barely mentioned by name anyplace, and not at all in
the Bible.  Somebody must have done some digging to find me, but I suppose
being the Angelic Demon of Blood made me an attractive target.  That title
was referenced in several books of the Old Testament, although only in the
old Greek versions.  In the later Latin texts they left me out of it, which
isn't a bad thing, believe me.  Contrary to popular belief angels do not
have an egocentric view of the universe.  We know exactly how small we are.

   =-=-=-=-=-=-=-

   "I am here." I whispered with my eyes closed, my hands behind my back
and my head bowed.  There was a peal of thunder and a hundred birds fell
from the sky.  It was in my contract.

   It's nice being an angel.  And not just any angel, I was one of the
Seven Dominations, although that wouldn't mean a lot to most people. 
Hopefully it meant something to whoever had summoned me, but I doubted it.
People who know anything about Angels and Demons know better than to call,
or at least they should.

   "Holy Shit!  It worked!"

   "Damn, look at her, I told you would!"

   "Shutup!" This would be the one who'd called me from the abyss.  "Demon,
I demand your service." The voice paused.  "Uh...  Dzuzu inaii Pa exas na
Thuy!"

   "I will perform your service." I opened my eyes and fixed them on a
young human male.  He was cute, but filled with too much ego, even for my
taste.

   "Good." He smiled at his two companions, all of them perhaps 20 years
old; healthy and in the prime of life.

   "I require blood." I told him, even though I didn't.

   "Uh, what?"

   "What did she say?"

   "Blood?  Why?" He waved at the others to be quiet.

   "This one's blood." I pointed at the nearest, as if he were specific to
me somehow.  "And then I shall perform your service, mortal." I kinda liked
talking like that, but it was gonna make me giggle soon.

   "Me?" The man started, jerking his head and looking at his friends.

   "Oh man!" The other guy laughed nervously.

   "I'm not sure...Um, that wasn't in the book." The leader said.

   "Do you give him to me?" I stared at the man, my voice sounding like the
moon rising in the midnight sky.  "Release me."

   The leader looked at his friends.  The guy I'd indicated was shaking his
head, starting to stand up.  The other just shrugged.  "She's gonna give us
our wish, right?"

   "What?  You can't...come on..." The one I'd chosen was sweating and I
could taste his fear drifting lazily through the air.  "This is crazy!"

   "I, um...yeah, I give him to you." The leader nodded.

   "No, Jimmy!  What?"

   It was always this easy with humans.  I'd been released.  I took the one
I'd indicated first, swiping with my hand and ripping his throat out so
that his hot blood founted into the room.  Then I took his friend,
disemboweling him and leaving him to die painfully, writhing on the
carpeted floor.

   "Wha-What are you doing...I...we ...you're bound, you can't..." The
leader looked at me in horror.  A human who'd sold his friend's blood for a
service as yet and now forever more unnamed.

   "You released me." I blew the words across his face like a kiss.  I
shoved my fist into his chest and pulled free his beating heart.  He fell
to the floor, his eyes wide and staring at me while I ate it.

   I bathed in their blood, washing myself with it.  My face and neck, down
my perfectly formed breasts and taut belly.  I've always had a great body,
perfect in fact, and I always thought it looked best in crimson.  Angelic
blood is black, but it never dries.  Cut an angel and he'll bleed forever,
or so the saying goes.  Of course that isn't true, first because we heal
rather quickly; and secondly, it takes a hell of a blade to pierce our
flesh.  Literally.  Human blood is much more...precious.

   Anyway, I am the Angelic Demon of Blood for a reason and I had exactly
665 days 23 hours and 19 minutes to remind the world why.  The news would
get out quickly, if it wasn't already, and someone would come looking for
me.  Probably one of the arch-angels, Michael I hoped.  He was a good fuck
and I hadn't seen him in ages.  I'd send him home broken, of course,
missing a feather or two, and limp as a wet noodle.  He'd deliver the
message and that's when the real fun would start.

   But that was all in the future and I had to get myself moving.  I was
burning daylight!
   End rache696@yahoo.com http://www1.asstr.org/~rache/index.htm

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