Satan Loves You (13 page)

“What do I do?” Sister Mary asked. “He’s lying to me, isn’t he? Heaven is a good place, right?”

“Sister,” Saint Jude said. “I cannot tell you what is true and what is false. That is for your heart to decide. But I can tell you one thing that is true: your soul is in great peril. Consider your choices carefully, for danger surrounds you on all sides.”

“Please, tell me what to do.”

“I cannot tell you what to do. That is not the duty of the saints. We provide guidance, a light by which you can navigate the stormy seas of life. We are lighthouses for the faithful, not road maps.”

“But you are a saint and I am only human. I’m not really going to Hell, am I?”

“It saddens me to say this, but yes, my child. You will burn in eternal hellfire.”

Sister Mary dissolved into tears. Her worst fears were confirmed. Her soul was damned.

“Is it for the atheism?” she asked. “It’s only a venial sin and I regret it so much. I can repent.”

“Sister,” Saint Jude said. “Heaven is not that callous. It is for the child you bear.”

“But that’s not my fault!”

“You must take responsibility for the actions of your body, whether you feel you deserve it or not. Only God knows what you do and don’t deserve.”

“But I don’t want to burn forever,” Mary sobbed.

“There is a way,” Saint Jude said.

“Prayer?”

“Listen closely, my child. You are correct that your sins are merely venial. But without a Purgatory to purify your soul they bind you like chains and trap you in Hell forever. However, an act of contrition might allow you to ascend to Heaven.”

“What is it?” Sister Mary asked. “I’ll do anything to come to Heaven.”

“Listen carefully. You must find the one who has done you the most wrong in this life, the one who has most sinned against you, and you must forgive them. Your forgiveness must be pure, it must be true, it must be without qualification or reservation. And when you have done that your chains will fall away and you will ascend into Heaven to dwell in the presence of the Lord forever.”

“The one who has most sinned against me?” Sister Mary repeated.

“Do you know who I mean?” Saint Jude asked.

“I think I do.”

“You must be sure,” he said. “Look into your heart. Do you know who has most sinned against you?”

“Yes,” she said.

“Then find them and forgive them, my child,” he said. “This forgiveness is your key to the kingdom of Heaven.”

“You know how He feels about Creation,” Satan said. “He hates to interfere. He’ll never let you take over Hell before the Ultimate Death Match, not against my will.”

“Perhaps not,” Michael said. “But surely you see the wisdom of what we suggest.”

“No,” Satan said. “It’s the opposite of wisdom. It’s stupid.”

“In the coming days, Lucifer,” Metatron said. “We will try to understand the pain inside your heart that causes you to speak in a manner that is hurtful to both yourself and to others.”

“Shut up,” Satan said.

“So be it,” Michael replied. “You will remain the sole sovereign of Hell for the next eleven days, until the Ultimate Death Match takes place. And when you are defeated there, or when you forfeit, it will be a time of great sadness because you will have made the transition more difficult and traumatic than it need be, both for yourself and for the souls in your care. The Creator will not look kindly on your stubbornness.”

“I’ll write him an apology note,” Satan said.

“At least think about the uniforms,” Gabriel said.

“Get stuffed,” said Satan.

“Gabriel, escort the Fallen One and his lump of mortal clay to the elevators,” Michael commanded.

“Gladly, your eminence,” Gabriel said, bowing low to Michael.

“Hey,” Barachiel said as Satan stood up. “Lucifer? These other wing flappers may want everything to go smoothly but you know what? I hope you give us trouble. I hope you try to fight back. Because I’m a certified instructor in pain and suffering and I think it’s time you and me had a little one-on-one private tutoring session.”

He gave a smug, self-satisfied smirk and Satan tried desperately to think of a clever comeback. But he couldn’t. So he left.

He stopped to collect a distracted Sister Mary from the reception area and then Gabriel loaded she and Satan back onto the electric cart and they whizzed back to the lobby.

“Still sulking?” Gabriel asked Satan.

“You’ve been behind this all along, haven’t you?” Satan said. “It’s that
‘
I’d rather be a king in Hell than serve in Heaven’ thing?”

“I’m merely a servant of The Creator’s will,” Gabriel said. “You’re the one who let things get embarrassing down there. You left us with no choice but to annex Hell.”

“It’s not going to happen.”

“The only decision you can make is whether it’ll happen the hard way or the easy way.”

“Hard way,” Satan said.

“I know you’re all into fighting the Creator’s will and rebelling and not going along with the plan, but you need to grow up. You may be as ageless as the rest of us but you’ve got the emotional maturity of a hyperactive four-year-old. He’s turned a blind eye to the mess you’ve made, but no more. Fires going out? Death going missing? Dead people backed up on Earth waiting to die? You haven’t designed a new torment in almost two thousand years.”

“I keep trying,” Satan said. “But I have to take care of every single thing every single minute of every single day and so I don’t have a lot of time to lie on my back in a meadow and stare up at the clouds and dream up new torments. Some of us don’t have a bunch of assistants and slave labor to make it all go easy.”

“Touchy, touchy,” Gabriel said. “Why don’t you go on vacation and let me take over early? It’ll earn you some goodwill up here.”

The electric cart purred to a stop in the lobby. Satan stalked over to the elevators but somehow, no matter how quickly he walked, Gabriel was always a step ahead of him. Sister Mary shuffled along glumly in their wake.

“You don’t have a wing to flap with,” Satan said. “You’ve had me running in circles but you haven’t won the Ultimate Death Match yet. And if you don’t, all your plans go up in smoke.”

Gabriel pushed the call button.

“Who’s going to wrestle for you? Her.”

He indicated Mary Renfro who was lost in her own world.

“Oh, we’ve got someone,” Satan said. “I think you’ll be surprised. I’m the Prince of Lies – a secret wrestler would be just my style.”

“You’re bluffing.”

“Maybe. But what if I’m not? Besides, you’ve left a chink in your plan and when you’re dealing with me a chink is all I need.”

“What chink?”

“If they don’t serve me the subpoena, I don’t go to court. And if I don’t go to court how am I embarrassing Heaven? And if I’m not embarrassing Heaven, then why would you need to take over Hell?”

The elevator doors dinged open. A heavy-set black woman stepped out. In her hand was a clipboard. She looked at it and then looked at Satan.

“I’ve got a winning lottery ticket here for one Mr. Satan. Do you have any ID?”

Satan smirked at Gabriel.

“Looks like my luck is turning around.”

He turned back to the woman.

“I don’t carry ID.”

“But are you Lucifer, Father of Lies, also known as Satan, Beelzebub, the Horned Goat, Lord of Darkness, God of the Pit, Leviathan, Pluto, Azmodeus, Servant of Evil, the Fallen Angel, and Baphomet?”

“That’s what they say.”

“Then consider yourself served,” she said and with a flourish she handed Satan a subpoena. “Sign here, and here’s your receipt.”

She got back on the elevator and the doors rolled shut. Satan stared at the subpoena in his hand.

“Oh, tough luck,” Gabriel said. “I wonder how that happened? Have a nice ride.”

He herded the stunned Satan and the distracted Sister Mary into another elevator, then he lowered his voice and pointed at Mary behind his hand.

“And by the way,” he stage whispered. “You really need to kill her before you really piss everyone off. Buh-bye.”

The last thing they saw as the doors closed was Gabriel waggling his fingers at them and giving a great, big corn-eating grin.

The ride back down to Earth was as long and boring as the ride up and, despite the hatred Sister Mary felt for Satan, boredom has a way of breaking down barriers. After a while, she had to ask:

“What’s that for?”

She was pointing at the subpoena.

“Nothing.”

“It didn’t look like nothing to me.”

“It’s stupid, okay? It’s that woman suing me because she says that I had sex with her when she was in one of those dumb Me Worshipping cults.”

“Satan worshipping? She was one of your minions?”

“I don’t have minions and I try to have as little to do with those cults as I can. Have you seen the kind of people who join up?”

“But did you have sex with her?”

“It was the Eighties. Everyone was on coke. She probably went to an Ozzy Osbourne show or something and got confused.”

“You’re disgusting.”

Satan had had enough.

“I’m disgusting? Is that the best you can do? Really? According to you, I’m the Antichrist, the guy who gave birth to Hitler, designed the nuclear missile, invented serial killers, started all those earthquakes in China, caused 9/11 and made the Middle East volatile. Cancer is all my fault, alcoholism is my favorite party trick and I’m the source of all your problems, and the best you can come up with is that I’m disgusting? You can do better than that. Come on. I’m waiting. Let me have it.”

Sister Mary loathed the Devil with every atom of her being, but right now they were in an elevator together and he looked human and it was hard to keep her rage stoked to a roaring blaze.

“Are you really going to kill me?” she asked.

“No,” Satan said. “I don’t think so. I’m outgunned here and I need every advantage I can get. So if everyone in Heaven wants you dead, then it’s in my best interests to keep you alive. At least until the Ultimate Death Match.”

“Is that something important?”

“It didn’t used to be,” Satan said. “Every century, Heaven, Hell and Purgatory had a company get-together. Fair rides, petting zoos, cotton candy, and an informal wrestling match: Heaven versus Hell, winner takes on Purgatory. Whoever lost had to sit in the dunking booth. Everyone used to be a really good sport about it but then, about two thousand years ago, Heaven got really competitive. Maybe it was the Nazarene going to Earth, or that whole Bible smear job that came out. No one really knows. But the stakes got higher. No more petting zoo. No more pony rides. Just wrestling. And Purgatory hasn’t been allowed to enter the ring in ages. Now it’s just a Heaven vs. Hell smackdown and if they win they get Hell. If we win, we keep it.”

“So if you lose, they get everything and if you win everything stays the same?” asked Sister Mary.

“No one said it was fair, but who’m I going to complain to?”

“Have you ever lost?”

“Not once. War usually wrestled tag team with Death, and if professional wrestling was ballet they were dancing
Swan Lake
. The archangels always considered it beneath them to get in the ring and most angels are giant wimps anyways. They talk tough but take away their swords of fire and give them a Mongolian Chop and they fold like a rental chair.”

“Who’s wrestling for Heaven this time.”

“Michael. He’s never done it before.”

“And you’ve got a secret wrestler?”

“What? That? No, I was bluffing. I have no idea what I’m going to do.”

“I don’t want to have your baby,” Sister Mary blurted out.

“That makes two of us,” Satan said. “But it’s not really my baby.”

“You made it happen. It’s your baby.”

“I can get rid of it for you,” Satan said.

“I don’t believe in abortion.”

“I’ll think of something,” Satan said. “I’ve got eleven days. That’s plenty of time.”

They lapsed into silence again.

And then the cable snapped.

Sister Mary screamed.

The elevator plunged straight down at a sickening speed. Just when it felt like it should stop it kept plunging, and plunging, and plunging. Every time Sister Mary thought it was plunging as fast as it could plunge it would plunge faster. The noise of the elevator car scraping and bumping the sides of the shaft was deafening. Sister Mary’s fear was overwhelming. Her brain felt like it was trying to claw its way out of her skull.

“I’m going to die!” she yelled, and knowing that dying before she could forgive the one who had wronged her the most, knowing that this would damn her to Hell for eternity, knowing that death would make a mockery of her life caused panic to bubble up out of her throat, and she screamed louder.

Satan grabbed her by the habit and pulled her face to his.

“You won’t die,” he shouted.

“I’m going to die!”

“I won’t let you!” he shouted.

“You’ll save me?”

“I’ll save you.”

“At the cost of my soul!” she screamed, realization suddenly dawning on her.

“I don’t want your soul!”

“Promise?”

“Yes, but you have to do what I say.”

“Alright. But I’m not going to desecrate any Bibles.”

Nothing happened. They continued to fall, the elevator screaming down the shaft.

“Do something!” she yelled when she couldn’t stand it any longer. “Save me!”

“I am,” Satan said.

“How?”

“When I say
‘
jump’ I need you to jump.”

Her stomach hit the back of her throat, bile flooded her sinuses, her eyes dilated so fast she almost blacked out. It was the “Jump in a Falling Elevator” trick, the one that everyone over the age of five knew didn’t work.

“No,” she said in a panic. “No, no, no, no, no...”

“Trust me,” Satan said. “It’ll work.”

“The momentum, the velocity, falling objects, mass and speed and force and gravity and kinetic energy and don’t be stupid! It won’t work!”

“Trust me!” he said.

She squeezed her eyes shut and shook her head wildly back and forth.

“Jump!” Satan screamed at her.

And he jumped, and he pulled her tightly to him, shielding her face against his chest, and she had to jump too and the elevator smashed into the ground and debris shrapneled through the air like a bomb going off and the noise was like a metal wave pushing her underwater and the air was thick with the taste of hot steel and burning engine grease and then it got still again and her ankles hurt badly and that must mean...