I t didn't happen very often, a soul getting destroyed, but when it did, it was always a tough decision. Deciding whether someone was a lost soul was my life. Twelve Elites sat around me. The shattering of a glass against the wall pulled me from my reverie. Death was at an all-time high in the human realm. The demons had the illusion that there wouldn't be enough space for all of them. It was heresy, of course. Hell could be as big as I needed it to be. Listening to them argue had been a sport for me at one point in time. Now, I found it bothersome. Had I actually woken up for this nonsense?
"He's been here for too long." Mckenzie, who'd thrown the glass, stood with her hands resting on the conference table. "We've done all we can for him. He doesn't even care about his soul." Ah, she must be the one in charge of his rehabilitation. It can frustrate you when a soul doesn't try.
"We can make him care," Clare said. Her voice was raw with a plea to get them to reconsider. This particular soul was on his third, wait, fourth cycle. I lost track of how many times they'd given this guy a chance. They wouldn't buy into the desperation in the woman's voice. Just like me, always trying to save everyone. I would think it was pathetic if I hadn't felt the same way a time or two. This soul had been famous in his lifetime. Maybe that was the reason we had given him so many chances. My demons had grown fond of his music. When he picked up the guitar, he mesmerized everyone. It may have been a mistake to only choose those with a soul to be part of my Elite team. I wanted them to have compassion for humans. I'd chosen a mix of demons and previously rehabilitated souls, along with a fallen angel or two. It provided a delicate balance for these types of discussions. It was supposed to be difficult to destroy a soul, knowing it would never come back. I would be the final say in this room.
Was a fifth round going to change anything? Very few even got to four. I was considering a fifth. Had I lost my mind? Some days, I wondered if I would feel the same way if I weren't directly involved in making the call. The truth was, I wouldn't. Before my father chose me to help souls find redemption, It didn’t matter how many were being rehabilitated. Now, it was always my decision. The centuries of this job were getting the best of me. I needed a break.
"He must be demolished," Elias said.
I spared him a look. A part of me wanted to know why he wanted to see the soul gone so badly. He had been the one pushing so hard. Glancing around the room, I took notice of all the details others may have missed. Two of the men had their hands gripped into fists. They really didn't want to see this man given another chance. Why? There was something more going on here. I noticed the woman who had been standing up for him. It clicked.
"Who's our best male rehab agent?" I asked.
"What?" Clare asked.
"Clare, were you not the last one to attempt rehabilitation?" My eyebrow rose as I put the pieces together. It was no wonder the men in the room wanted him demolished.
"I was. What does that matter?" She rested back in her chair, her arms folded over her chest. Elias glared at her.
"Because you slept with him. You can't be unbiased in this decision," he spat.
"Show of hands. Who has had sex with the soul in the time he's been in the system?"
Four women and two men raised their hands. My eyebrows rose at the men. An equal opportunity soul. Perfect. "I need the best. Who do we have? Someone who won't be swayed sexually." I focused on Elias since he was in charge of placement. It was probably why he'd been so angry. This guy had gone through half of the Elites. Part of me wanted to meet him personally. I could use a little fun after the discussion in this room today.
Elias' brows furrowed. "He doesn't deserve another chance, Luci. You know this as well as I do."
"Well, I'd say you were correct if he hadn't fucked half the room. I don't think anyone here can be unbiased in this decision." I tapped my finger against my lips. "Randal, he's the best when it comes to unbiased decisions. There's no way he'll be able to sway that guy. If he does, he deserves another round on Earth."
"Fine, who's next?" Elias looked expectantly at Clare.
"Next, we have soul number 6,234,368. It's his second round. He hasn't taken to a single rehabilitation. We believe if he returns to Earth, he will do serious damage. The determination of both agents is that the soul should be demolished." She paused, her chin tilting down. "Any objections?"
I glanced around the room. There was a full-on brawl a moment ago. No one said anything for this soul. "Is there a reason not to give him a third round? Hell, we're about to give the last soul a fifth." I looked around the room. Not one set of eyes met mine.
"It's not advised. Both rehabilitation agents found too many flaws in the soul to determine a need for another round. He's not someone to save, Luci." There was a certain amount of sympathy in the woman's eyes. She was one of the fallen angels. It must hurt her just as much to demolish a soul. Yet, the decisions had to be made.
I nodded. I guess today wouldn't be a good day. I thought we'd made progress with the last guy. They were willing to change the established rules for him, but not this guy. What was the difference, really? Of course, I knew the difference. I wouldn't speak it aloud. Not now, maybe not ever.
I closed my eyes, taking a breath. "Fine. Is there a second to demolish?" I made this seem like a true board, with each member having a vote. The final decision would be mine, but going against the group wasn't in my best interest. One little anger outburst already had me in therapy. You toast a few Elites, and everyone thinks you’ve got anger issues. The board placated those who thought revolution was a good idea.
"I second," Elias said.
"All in favor, say I."
A chorus of "I's" filled the space.
I nodded, lowering my head. "Then it's settled. The soul will be demolished." I swallowed. Every soul chosen to be demolished felt like a personal failure to my father. You would think after centuries, it would get easier. It didn't. I closed my eyes, taking a moment of silence for the soul. The Elites sat silent. I rubbed my forehead. There was a throbbing just behind my eyes. It showed up when I'd woken, knowing today's meeting was about demolishing souls. It only increased. I wondered if something else was wrong. There was an unfamiliar itch under my skin. Something else was happening. I just didn't know what.
"We understand that this is hard for you." Clare rested her hand on my shoulder. At least someone in here still had a heart. Maybe they'd been doing this work too long. The sweetness in her voice didn't change the heartbreak I felt with every decision to demolish another soul. It was a necessary evil of my role here. A phrase of which my father was quite fond. There were days I could pummel him for his decisions. Today was one of them.
I kept my head low. The hate I felt for those seated at the table grew with each demolition. I didn't want to appear weak in front of the Elites who were kept in my charge. The Elites knew not to undermine my authority but wouldn't hesitate to speak their mind if they believed they needed to.
"We're done for today." I didn't care if there were more souls to go through.
One by one, the Elites cleared out until it was only my best friend standing before me. Checking out after that meeting seemed like the best thing. Kesa wasn't one of my Elites, but she was privy to everything happening. She was my right hand.
"You did everything you could." Kesa rested her hand on my back, rubbing circles.
It was one thing to know something and another to believe it. I willed myself to believe that there wasn't any more I could have done. It was the double standard that was getting to me. I wanted to speak to my father about my "job." The conversation would end with him telling me there was no other person who could do the job like me. It was the same drivel he had given me every time I asked about my position here.
I didn't exactly like all the stories that had floated around about me. I wasn't the avenging angel who marched an army against my father. I wanted to set the record straight about my real reason for being here. Every single time I tried, my father would insist that it was for the best that everyone believed the stories. It kept more souls from needing to be rehabilitated. They needed to learn their lessons on Earth. It was the best place for them to learn and the only place that offered this particular learning experience. I understood the role I played and its necessity, but I hated it.
"I need a break." I expelled a hard breath. Everything was getting to me. Eliminating souls was always a hard decision, but I shouldn't be reacting this way to every single one. There was no way this could continue. I understood that some souls couldn't go back to Earth. I'd seen firsthand what happened when we sent someone back who wasn't ready. Catastrophic events weren't something I wanted to be responsible for. That was the horsemen's purview. Again, something I didn't want to have a single say over. The heaviness of running hell was enough.
Kesa patted my back fondly. "Then take one."
A hysterical laugh escaped my lips before I could stop it. "Yeah, right, like anyone would actually let me take a break. The devil doesn't get a vacation." The thought began to take shape. I sat straighter, a slow smile spreading across my lips. Maybe it was time for me to take a vacation. An actual one where I could frolic among humans with no one bothering me with what I "should" be doing. Oh, the idea sounded like heaven. I sighed. What would they do to me if I took a vacation? Fire me? Ha, I was Lucifer Morningstar! I was, in fact, the boss over every single soul here. The balance couldn't continue without me. Maybe it was time for a salacious vacation with all the fun I could stand.
I clapped my hands together. "Kesa, pack your bags. We're going on vacation to Earth." Kesa gaped at me. I knew her suggestion wasn't a serious one, but I was doing it anyway. Fuck 'em all.
"What? Luci, you can't be serious. Who's going to take over for you here? We can't just leave." Her words ran together in a panic. She was shaking her head back and forth. It had been her suggestion, but now she was freaking out.
"Kesa, it'll be okay. I'll put one of the Elites in charge while I'm gone. It won't be a long trip. Just a night or two away from here will do me some good. I'm sure someone else could handle it for a few days at the most. What's the worst that could happen?"
Kesa blinked at me. "Did you really just say that?"
"Yeah, come on. It's not a big deal." I waved my hand dismissively. "Who's the best on the team? Not one of those jackasses who always want to eliminate souls. It has to be someone who we can trust to do what's in the best interest of everyone." I sat on my settee, pulling my feet up to relax. It'd been a hard day. I wanted to rest for longer than a single night. I wouldn't admit that to anyone.
"It can't be Azazel. He's got the biggest head of the bunch. Maybe one of your brothers?" Kesa suggested.
"I don't know. Michael's still pretty pissed off. I can't imagine Uriel doing me a favor either." I rolled my eyes. Most of my brothers were super overdramatic about my role in scripture. I ended up with worshipers on Earth, and it peeved them.
"So, one of the fallen here, then?" Kesa tapped her pen on her notebook. I swore she took that thing everywhere. I never understood her incessant need to write everything, but I also appreciated it when she always had the answers I needed.
I thought about all the angels whom I could ask to take over for a bit. I thought about the few my father insisted on checking up on me here. One would think he didn't trust me to rehabilitate souls. He always seemed to think my pride would get the better of me. So far, I'd proven him wrong. I'd been nothing but a faithful servant, helping to rehabilitate souls who could be and making the difficult decisions when they couldn't. I was my father's daughter, after all. Loving souls ran deep, but I knew when to make the hard choices. Closing my eyes, I ran through the angel's faces. "Sariel, I believe he's the most trusted of those here. Is he out collecting souls?" He was the one who was in charge of all the angels of death. He could easily take over the responsibility of deciding who could be redeemed, at least for a little while. His operation ran like a well-oiled machine. He would also be the most likely to consider all options before making any harsh decisions. He was the most level-headed of the lot.
"Oh, yeah, he would be a good choice. Can he step away from his own role, though?" Kesa made a note.
"I think he could. Will you call him in to see me?" I wanted some time before I spoke with Sariel. I needed to look my best when I went out tonight. When Sariel said yes, I wanted to leave for Earth immediately.
“Aren’t you supposed to be in therapy?” Kesa narrowed her eyes at me. She knew my apprehension about seeing the therapist. The Elites demanded it after I’d smoked a few too many.
“Fuck, what time is it?”
“Time for you to get your ass to therapy. Respectfully.” She smirked.
“Yeah, yeah, I’m going.” I rolled my eyes and portaled to my therapist's office.
I focused on the flowers that elongated from the vase on the table. I wasn't avoiding the conversation, per se. Being here, in this office, and talking to a therapist wasn't my favorite thing to do. After I'd lost my temper on an Elite, the others demanded therapy as my penance. Like, I would really kill another one. It wasn't my fault he'd been an asshat one too many times for my liking. They were in my realm, after all. You'd think they'd pay me a little more respect some days. His head had gotten too big. He'd said the wrong thing, and I'd gotten a little mad. The fire was out in a matter of minutes. Not that big of a deal, really. The flowers that transfixed me were an elegant blue with leaves shaped like tiny stars. They seemed to lean towards the light pouring in from the window. It wasn't just the flowers. The white vase that held them looked elegant, too. I'd concluded, like I did every time I sat across from my therapist and looked at the flowers, that she had very sophisticated tastes. I wondered if she'd been the same before coming here. Maybe that was what brought her here. Vanity got the best of so many human souls. It got worse with each new piece of technology. Everyone was looking for their fifteen seconds of fame.
The flowers weren't the only interesting décor in the room. There were paintings of all sorts. Famous paintings, but I knew they were only replicas because the originals were on Earth. Framed quotations filled any open spaces on the walls. I noted a particular one in every meeting that read, "What we think, we become." If only more humans knew how true that one was for what happened after death. They might actually spend time creating their reality instead of complaining about it.
My therapist kept her eyes fixated on me, but I pretended not to notice. I knew I was stalling. Had I mentioned how much I didn't want to be in this office, talking about my feelings or whatever I was supposed to be doing? There was a notepad on her lap. The red-soled pumps she was sporting let me know vanity was definitely her vice. I bet she'd traded sessions putting up with me to get them to get her all the designer things she liked. Her tailored suits certainly weren't cheap in her human realm. At least having to study me paid her well. Even if none of those things actually mattered here.
Sometimes, I suspected she wasn't a very good therapist in her human life. Her rehabilitation had been to fix me. So far, that was going swimmingly. I could feel her impatience growing with each tick of the clock. In the human realm, these sessions were an hour. That was one saving grace. My therapist liked her routine. An hour was all the time I had to waste looking at the flowers and upbeat messages on the wall.
"Luci?" The rise in her tone had me biting my lip.
I finally pulled my eyes away from the flower arrangement to my therapist's waiting gaze. She was a slim woman with bronzed skin. It shimmered slightly under the fluorescent lighting she'd chosen. I wondered if she used some sort of cream to get that effect. The therapist's ebony-colored hair was in a low bun, and I was sure I'd never seen her wear it in another style. She attempted a reassuring smile that felt as fake as the Jimmy Choo handbag resting at her feet.
I shook my head to rid myself of my straying thoughts. I was given a chance to talk about whatever was on my mind. The woman had sworn a blood oath that nothing I said would leave these walls. If she were to betray that oath, she would instantly become dust. I still didn't think she took that oath as seriously as she should. The insistent way she said that she'd sworn an oath to client confidentiality always. I would like to believe her. But I was Satan. It wasn't in my nature. I liked to have a little extra protection. She had little choice.
The only sentence stuck in my head was the same one that had been nestling there for what felt like forever. What would happen if I left Hell? I'd put the motions into place, but what would really happen when I left? Was it even possible? Questions raced in my head, along with all the things that could go wrong when I left. It was an anxiety train, and I was all aboard whether I liked it or not. I regarded the woman again; her patience was uncanny. I knew her annoyance was festering below the surface, but she kept it in check nicely. I almost wanted to commend her for it. I would've lost my shit if I was being so blatantly ignored.
"I'm doing all right," I finally spoke. It was an immediate lie. Nothing about today had been all right. I was about to lose another soul. I would get reamed if my father ever found out I'd given so many opportunities for rehabilitation. It was unheard of to give a soul so many chances. Of course, he would say I wasn't taking my responsibility seriously again. I was so tired of hearing how I failed him. The one disappointment in a shining collection of miraculous feats.
There wasn't much I wanted to say to this woman. I looked away from my therapist, well aware that the woman's gaze wasn't wavering. Every time she looked at me like that, I found myself oversharing. My oversharing could certainly get me in trouble. I considered leaving hell. The thought wasn't daunting; it was the repercussions of the position I held. It was more of the fact my father was God. If I walked away now, I would just be another disappointment. Maybe I needed to spin that in my favor. What was the line in that song? If I could be anything, I'd be a disappointment, am I right? Maybe being the constant disappointment made for better branding. That's how they portrayed me in the human world. Might as well live up to their expectations.