Satan Loves You - By Grady Hendrix Page 0,80
Charo laughed, and she depressed the firing button and fired and fired and fired as Paimon screamed his fury and the two of them disappeared into the flock of angels.
Seconds later, from deep inside the swirling, whirling, swooping, soaring horde, there came a flash of orange fire and a muffled explosion. Then the flock of angels organized themselves, circled once, and flew away, leaving charred chunks of pink fiberglass bobbing on the gasoline-slicked surface of the Acheron River. Of Charo and King Paimon there was no sign.
Deep inside the Fifth Circle of Hell, Gabriel and a phalanx of angels were kicking down doors and sweeping the offices of Hell as efficiently as a SWAT team. Cowering demons were taken prisoner, shackled and marched up to the ruins of the Mall of the Unbaptized, where they would be processed in the temporary Retraining and Attitude Adjustment Facility.
The final door was kicked open, and angels rushed in to the darkened room: Satan’s office. The inner sanctum of Hell.
“Clear!” an angel yelled.
“Clear!” another called.
The overhead fluorescents were switched on. The room was empty. Gabriel, needless to say, was peeved.
“Where are they?” he asked.
No one knew.
“Bring me someone who knows where they are!” he shouted.
No one was quite sure what to do, and so they shifted nervously from foot to foot.
“How did they get out of here?” Gabriel yelled, at no one in particular and at absolutely everyone.
“I found this guy,” an angel said entering from the room next door and throwing the hipster to the floor.
“You are a douche,” the hipster said, sitting up and rubbing his bruised elbows.
“Heavenly Father!” one of the angels gasped.
“What is it?” Gabriel shrieked.
“It’s hideous!” another angel said, recoiling.
“Your mother’s hideous,” the hipster said.
“Shoot it!” Gabriel cried. “Get that horror out of my sight!”
“Excuse me, sir,” one of the angels said. “Michael is coming.”
“Oh, crap,” Gabriel said. “Everyone look busy.”
Two angels used their spears to lift the protesting hipster and stuff him into a filing cabinet drawer, which they promptly locked. They weren’t about to risk touching that thing. Who knows where it had been? The rest of the angels began tearing open filing cabinets and throwing papers around, ripping back the wood paneling on the walls, pulling up the carpet (which, despite having a little poo on it, was in the best shape of anything in the office). They wanted to give the appearance that they were leaving no stone unturned in their search for Satan, hoping that this would distract Michael from the fact that they did not actually have him in their custody.
“Where is he?” Michael asked, striding through the door, his wings folded as low as he could get them so that they wouldn’t brush against the stained acoustic tile ceiling.
“We almost had him, but he got away,” Gabriel said. “He was right in our grip and then he gave us the slip.”
“Don’t lie to me, Gabriel,” Michael said.
“I’m not lying.”
Michael gave him a pitying look.
“All right,” Gabriel said, folding his hand. “Stop ransacking.”
The angels stopped their busy work.
“We can’t find him anywhere,” Gabriel admitted to Michael.
“As I expected,” Michael said.
“You’re not angry?”
“Why should I be angry?” Michael asked. “Never for a moment did I expect that you would be a match for the Lord of Lies.”
“Oh, thanks,” Gabriel said.
“He is far too devious for you,” Michael continued. “There is only one way we will be able to lure Satan into daylight and then remove him as King of Hell.”
“Please share, oh great one,” Gabriel said.
“The Ultimate Death Match,” Michael said. “He will not miss it.”
“You might have said something before we invaded Hell then,” Gabriel said. “It hasn’t exactly been pain-free. Do you know how many angels that Spanish hussy took out? If we could have just waited for the Ultimate Death Match then I don’t see the point.”
“Earliness is next to godliness,” Michael said. “And besides, you’ll be installed as temporary regent here. There is no such thing as starting the transition too early.”
Gabriel liked the sound of this. He bowed.
“Thy will be done.”
“Yes,” Michael said. “My will be done. Now,” he walked over to the filing cabinets. “What is that knocking sound?”
“Don’t open it,” Gabriel shouted, but it was already too late.
Outside the razed Mall of the Unbaptized, on the vast muddy plains of the First Circle of Hell, a temporary city had sprung up. This was stage one in Heaven’s takeover of Hell: the Retraining and Attitude Adjustment Facility. Hundreds of tents and trailers stretched to the dark and gloomy