The Gluttony of Murmer Read online

  * * * *

  Sytri was at work. He’d eaten a light meal, probably a salad, and then went straight to work as usual.

  He worked at a soul collection agency, in a tall skyscraper in the center of town. He took his work seriously, and earned some high quality souls from his business. What he did was simple – he would arrange contracts between his clients and humans. When the agreement was completed, his client would split the soul with him, and they’d have a feast.

  A human could only enter such an agreement if their soul was of high quality – strong mentalities of all sorts made for a delicious soul.

  Holding Cal’s hand, I made my way past roaring fax machines and screaming secretaries wrapped in phone cords. This was why I refused to work there.

  We found Sytri in his cubicle, speaking to one of his clients via webcam.

  “…No, they can’t do that. It’d be violating our second treaty with arch angels. . I don’t care how much they invest in the stock market. It’s not happening.” He was tired, I could tell from his voice, and I felt badly for bothering him like this.

  “Um, Sytri?” I whispered, barely able to even hear myself.

  He held up his index finger as he picked up a paper from the massive stack on his desk and skimmed it.

  After a few minutes, his chat session closed and he turned to me with a yawn. “What is it, Murmer?” He took a drink from his coffee mug.

  “I need your help.” I motioned towards Cal, who was hiding behind me, hugging his stuffed platypus.

  The silver haired demon leaned back in his chair to peer down at the small cookie. “And just what is this delectable dessert?”

  “That’s Cal,” I replied, patting the small child’s head. “I, uh, I can’t eat him. I’m just wondering, can you tell me why he’s here?”

  Sytri shook his head, turning his attention back to his computer and starting a game of solitaire. “The server crashed. You’ll have to talk to booking.”

  I hated the booking department. They were all just a bunch of overpaid angels that spent all their time on their rock band.

  “Forget it, I’m not going there.” I crossed my arms.

  “I’ll go with you.” Sytri gave me that warm smile of his. When he did smile, which was rarely, he had a soft look about him.

  * * * *

  Inventory, or booking, was a small department with a huge digital database on the other side of the building. It was usually quiet, with some kind of metal music playing from the computer speakers.

  Only one angel was working that day, possibly because of pay cuts that the God had approved of a few months ago.

  “Heidrial!” Sytri said in a firm tone, picking up Cal and setting him on the counter, accidently knocking off a few stacks of paper.

  “What? Dude, I’m busy!’ The angel sighed, his eyes not leaving the computer screen. “I am about to level up!”

  “Just tell us if this is supposed to be here. Surely you can recall from what little memory you have,” Sytri continued, ignoring the lazy angel’s insistence on not doing his job.

  Heidrial moved his blue bangs out of his eyes and looked up at Cal. He scanned the small boy, trying to recall if the particular human’s profile had passed through the Hell bound database earlier.

  “Yeah! He’s there for murder! Geez!” The angel shook his head with an annoyed look, and put a large pair of headphones on. I hoped to myself that he’d go deaf one day.

  I stared at Cal for a long moment, letting the reality of his sin sink in. The boy, still looking as harmless as ever, sat there on the counter, hands on his knees.

  Sytri shrugged and put a hand on my shoulder. “I’ll see you later, Murmer. Don’t do anything you might regret.” He turned back to Heidrial and yanked off the angel’s headphones with a displeased tone. “Hey! You never got back to me about clients one through one hundred eighty!” The two began yelling, as usual, about the angel’s lack of motivation and Sytri’s addiction to working.

  Cal twisted around and jumped off the counter, staring up at me with those large golden orbs. “Are you going to eat me? Like a wolf?”

  He would be delicious; I wanted to devour every bit of him, of course. But something inside of me knew that wouldn’t be the honorable way to feast upon prey like him. Too long had I been in Hell, just eating whatever might come along during Sunday splurges. I was craving something more delectable, something like a cookie filled with peanut butter cups, chocolate chips, and cream.

  The longer you wait for something, the more you come to appreciate it, but a great emptiness comes when it’s gone.

  I shook my head, tuning out the arguing, and led Cal outside to the hill that overlooked Envy Town.

  It was peaceful up there; a nostalgic wind combed through my auburn hair as I stared at the face of a young sinner. But really, I thought to myself, what was a sinner? Someone who had sinned, yes, but what was sin? Sin could be anything, depending on the perspective of the individual in question.

  I never cared about sin; I preferred to follow my heart. Demons have hearts, too, contrary to popular belief.

  “I killed a snooty kid,” Cal began to confess, looking at me, hugging his stuffed platypus, still.

  “How come?”

  “He had a real platypus, like the kind I always wanted. His parents bought him one; he was rich. No one liked him. During show and tell, the last day I was alive, he brought his pet and was showing it off. That guy, he doesn’t even like platypuses! He only got one because he knew how much I love them!

  “So, he brought one, in a cage, and the poor thing looked like it hadn’t eaten in a long time. I was trying to give it something to drink, and he pushed me! I fell into the fish tank, and it really hurt! So, I picked up a box cutter that the teacher had used earlier to open a package of coloring books, and I just stabbed him!”

  Cal’s voice grew deeper as he began to recall the murder. I could only look at him, amazed by how dark his heart actually was.

  “I kept stabbing him, then I started cutting him. The blade was just tearing through his skin so easily; it was like I was cutting wrapping paper on a Christmas gift. When I slashed the side of his neck, the color red splattered everywhere. It was like a sprinkler.”

  He began to chuckle, reimagining the scenery. “And then, while we were fighting, the cops came in and electrified me to death! Isn’t that funny, Murmer?! They were yelling at me stop, and I told them no! There wasn’t anything they could do to stop me!”

  Cal began to cackle, holding his stomach and tilting his head back with a madness I’d only seen in grown men. The laughing of a child is supposed to be filled with an innocent, curious spirit, one of wonder and amazement. However, this boy’s laugh was filled with full knowledge of right and wrong. He had killed intentionally, knowing what he was doing was “wrong” in the eyes humanity, and in the eyes “God”.

  I rubbed my neck, feeling a little awkward, since I didn’t find it too funny. Had I been there for the incident, I would’ve been laughing right along with Cal.

  My curiosity about him grew, though. I wanted to know more about him. What had made him so corrupt? What killed that faithful, childish spirit that most kids possessed, even in times of misfortune? His soul wasn’t filled with apples or pears, but filled with hatred and chocolate chips.

  I had to know more about him.

  “So, Murmer, are you really a demon?” Cal’s uncontrollable fit began to subside as he wiped tears from his eyes with his clenched fists. I noticed the stuffed platypus was perched on his shoulder now, its marble eye peering at me. “You look like any normal human I’ve seen.”

  “And you look like any regular demon I’ve seen,” I smiled and pat the boy’s head, kneeling down to look at him closely.

  “Are you going to eat my soul, then?”

  “Do you want me to? Isn’t there anyone on Earth you want revenge on? Any unfinished business you want to take care of?”

  Cal put his index finger to his cheek, loo
king like an innocent child again, and thought to himself. “Well, there are a few people I’d like to see go down. If I’m dead, then they should be, too.”

  For someone who looked only eleven years old, Cal had excellent logic and rationality.

  “That’s the way to look at it!” I encouraged him, patting him on the shoulder.

  “I want dead the man that. . .” Cal didn’t finish, instead looking off to the scenery of the city. A gust of wind roared at both of us at that moment, and thunder began to crack somewhere in the distance.

  He leaned forward, resting a hand on my shoulder as he whispered into my ear the trespasses others had committed unto him. I pulled him into a soft embrace and gladly listened. At times, his voice was shaky, as if he wanted to just burst into tears and sob like the child he should have been. He had shown no weakness in front of the other demons he’d met that day. I felt privileged to know the truth about him.

  When he had finished the long list of those he wanted dead, those he wanted to say goodbye to, and those he wanted to throw into a bonfire, he withdrew from my arms and put both hands behind his back. Without either of us realizing it, he had confessed to me for hours. The sun was beginning to set, and the glimmering light made Cal’s ebony hair almost look violet.

  “So, Murmer, can this be done?” He leaned forward, resting his forehead against mine, as if trying to penetrate my thoughts for the answer. He closed his eyes and smiled in a way that could no longer fool me. I could never again see any of his expressions as those of innocence.

  He was already dead. His human body, his flesh, was rotting in a grave by now. But it could be done. I had connections to Sytri, who could easily set up a contract for Cal.

  “Yes, of course it can be done. And so it shall.” I couldn’t help but grin, standing up and putting my left hand in my jacket pockets. His soul would be well worth it. Looking at that steamy cookie wouldn’t desensitize me to its appeal, I knew, and I’d grow to appreciate it more with fulfilling the boy’s wishes.

  I offered him my hand and gave him the most personable smile I could.

  It felt like we were friends already.

  END?

  Next: The Envy of Sytri