aldur9090
patreon
The Shark - New Book - Chapter 1
🕑 Added 2022-12-10 14:51:40 +0000 UTCI am planning to release this on RR in the future, but for now, I want to build up some chapters and get advice from readers. This story is not taking the place of The Bridge to Forever, it's just a side project I am working on.
That being said, please enjoy :)
Blurb:
After getting recruited into literal corporate hell, Harry is forced to help demons convince innocents to sell their souls. He doesn't love the work.
But the pay… Now that is something to die for.
Chapter 1 - Report 1: Supervisor Beelzebub – First acquisition.
Dear Mr Beelzebub…
Harry frowned, deleting the words he had just typed.
"No, that doesn't sound right. Is Beelzebub even a Mr? I couldn't tell when they did my initiation. What about…"
Dear Lord of the flies….
"That's better, but it lacks oomph. If they aren't happy with how I word this, I could end up eternally damned, or worse. They could cancel my Christmas bonus,"
Dear Lord of the flies, Almighty regent of Filth.
"Now that has a nice ring to it," Harry grinned, rolling back in his chair that was just that little bit uncomfortable. Not enough that he could complain about it, but enough that he wouldn't be falling asleep at his desk any time soon. As Beelzebub said, you come to work to, well, work, not relax. And in general, Shade's office reflected that attitude. Stark lights and tiny cubicles lined up in oppressive rows. Space was a rare commodity here.
"I guess I should just get started then," Harry muttered, dreading recounting this week's events. Not that he could escape them.
The glowing jar on his desk was a firm reminder of what he had done. Inside was a flickering ethereal light, bouncing against the jar's walls like a trapped firefly.
"I'm… I'm sorry. I know it's too late, but I really am," He mumbled, staring at the jar. His thoughts drifted off as he began to type.
Report 1: Supervisor Beelzbub – First Acquisition
Dear Lord of the flies, Almighty regent of Filth.
Upon the request of Gillian in HR, I am writing a report on my experience during my first work week at Shade. As you know, my department is soul acquisitions, and this report will cover my first acquisition, as well as a detailed recounting of the events leading up to and following my first deal.
Gillian requested that I include a brief summary of the hiring process and any notes I had on where Shade could streamline the process. She also recommended I maintain a casual tone, so if there is a problem with my report, please refer to her. Thanks.
The following events began a week and three days ago, on Friday the 13th.
I woke up in a daze, struggling to get out of bed as I often do. It wasn't a matter of tiredness or exhaustion. I simply had no reason to get up. The previous week I had bombed two job interviews, and I was beginning to lose hope that I would ever find a job.
After stumbling out of bed and throwing together a hasty breakfast that would bring a tear to my mother's eye, I sat down at my desk, preparing to search for work in neighbouring cities. But when I opened my laptop, a letter was inside, sealed with a bloody red wax mark.
Until then, I had never seen a letter sealed before, so I was curious about what could be inside. But perhaps the thing that most encouraged me to open the letter was the fact that it had somehow appeared inside my laptop, in my locked apartment.
Just to be sure, I checked the door, but it was still locked. So were the windows, not that it matters. Seeing as I live on the seventeenth floor of an apartment building, nothing could have climbed through windows that high up… nothing human, anyway.
After examining the letter for around five minutes, I was spellbound by the rough yellowish parchment; it felt like what I imagined an old treasure map to feel. My intuition was telling me the letter was dangerous, but something spoke louder, whispering in my ear, telling me over and over again. Open it, open it, open it.
At this point, my curiosity got the better of me, and rather than waste my afternoon looking for jobs I wouldn't get, I opened the letter.
Nothing could have prepared me for what lay within this letter. Nothing.
[Congratulations! Shade's data analysis department has found you to be a suitable candidate for our human initiative program. At Shade, our client's soul is more precious to us than them, and we are always looking for more fresh blood.
If you would be interested in working as a soul acquisitions officer, cut your thumb and drip blood onto the corner of the page. If not, close the letter, and your memory will be wiped. Afterwards, no traces of this event will remain.]
I frowned, reading the letter repeatedly just to ensure I wasn't seeing things. To begin with, it made no sense to me that I would meet whatever mysterious requirements you might need to work for this shady company… No offence, Lord Beelzebub.
But apparently, I had. I ran through my life in my head, trying to think of what I could have done to warrant this attention. After graduating from business school with distinction, I went directly into sales at a regional bank. My job was to pitch new payment initiatives to bigwigs, which, to be honest, made me want to kill myself.
It's not like I was terrible at it, or so I tell myself. But I ask you this, can you picture anything more monotonous than working as a sales rep at a bank? We didn't even make anything for me to sell!
So, I quit and found another job. But it was much the same; everywhere I went was impersonal, dull, and cold. I could list adjectives all day, but you get the picture. As the days melded into weeks and years slipped through my fingers, I was slowly losing touch with what made me want to do business, to begin with. It wasn't money, really; there's something about pulling off a deal that gets me fired up. I love the feeling you get when you convince someone to buy something they don't want or need. It's this euphoric rush that's hard to explain, like when you bluff in poker and win.
Perhaps that love of challenge is why the letter was sent. I'm not sure myself, back to the letter.
My first reaction should have been to assume this was a prank. A few of my friends have my apartment key in case of emergencies, and it would be totally possible, even likely, that they would do something like this. But that wasn't how I reacted. The second I read the letter, I knew its contents to be true. It was something primal, instinctual even. I just knew.
My apartment was cold, almost Baltic, as I stared at the letter. From the moment I opened the seal until then, the room's temperature had plummeted, causing frost to form on the inside of the windows. I could see my breath fogging up in the freezing air and began to shiver slightly, my hands shaking as they held the letter.
It was strange, but in that moment, they seemed to move all on their own. My thumb slid down the side of the letter, slicing open a papercut I couldn't feel. I raised it mindlessly, allowing a single drop of blood to land on the parchment. The second it landed, my apartment went back to normal, the frost melted, and I stopped shivering entirely.
I couldn't tell you how long I sat there, frozen in fear after that. But when I did finally move, it was to reread the letter. The words were different, dyed red and splotched in places like the ink had been smudged. They were written in a nigh unreadable scrawl, looping letters swirling in indecipherable circles that joined in impossible places.
[Welcome to Shade. All new employees are to attend initiation in their local branch. An imp will be dispatched shortly to show you the way.]
Or so I thought it read. It took a lot of guesswork and assumptions to make that out, but I think it was roughly correct in the end. Just as the letter said, an imp soon showed up at my door.
Sitting at my desk in shock, I was startled out of my revelry by a sharp rap on the door. Once, twice, three times, with each successive knock getting louder and louder. I shot up from my desk and ran to the door, hoping to open it before whoever was on the other side broke it down.
After flinging the door open, I could only stand there and stare. The thing, which I later came to know as an imp, had its clawed hand raised, about to knock again. At the time, I didn't notice the scratch marks on my door or the briefcase the little demon was carrying. I was far too preoccupied with the monster itself. I'm sure you are familiar with imps, so I'll leave my description brief.
Smelly, short, scaly. Their most defining characteristics are their fiery red scales and gnarled goat horns. And, as I have come to learn, imps do not shut up.
"Alright, mate?" The imp asked, its voice surprisingly deep.
"Uhm… yeah?"
"The name's Gram; I'm here to collect your soul,"
I took a step back, aghast, "What are you talking about? I didn't sign a contract involving my soul,"
"Yeah, yeah, that's what they all say. Let me guess, you ain't never seen a demon before either?" Gram rolled his gloomy eyes as he spoke, clearly used to this sort of excuse.
Backpedalling, I ran into my apartment and grabbed the letter, thrusting it towards Gram, who looked like he had all the time in the world, "Look, this was my contract!"
Gram frowned, jagged teeth sticking out at funny angles, "I've never seen one of these before…." He muttered, tapping a scaly foot on my wooden floor. I winced as his claws scored the brand-new wood. There was no way I would get my deposit back if my landlord saw this. "Unless… It's that new project the chief has been really excited about. I did hear rumours about humans being involved in it," He looked up at me, his gaze calculating and predatory.
It made me shift uncomfortably, I know Gram is only an imp, but at the time, I was petrified. It was a goddamn demon! And it was standing in my living room, deciding whether or not to take my soul. Of course, I was scared.
I held my breath, watching the imp mutter as he turned the page over in his scaly hands. He smelled of sulphur and burnt toast, and a little stream of smoke poured out of the corner of his inhuman mouth. Finally, he slammed the letter down on my desk, making me jump in fright.
"Right! This is what we are gonna do. I'll leave your soul inside you. For now. I'll bring you to the main headquarters, and someone higher up the chain of command can figure out what to do with you. That being said, if what this letter says is true… You are in way over your head,"
The sinking feeling in my gut was like I had swallowed a cannonball.
"I mean, what did you expect? You signed a contract to work with demons, man."
Not quite able to find the words to reply, I shrugged feebly.
Gram tutted and shook his head, "If people were all as gullible as you, we wouldn't need soul collectors, to begin with. Ah well, let's get going,"
Nodding dumbly, I walked towards the demon in a daze, too confused and afraid to stop myself.
He looked me up and down, frowning. His scalding gaze scoured my loose sweatpants and baggy jumper. "You aren't seriously going to wear that to the office? Are you?"
It was like a switch was flicked. That's right, I am going to an office full of demons. I was scared, but deep down, there was something more… Part of me was excited.
"One second, I'll put on my suit," I said, running into the bedroom and throwing my blackest, most sombre suit on. Somehow, it just felt right for the occasion.
As I walked out, looking like I was going to a funeral, Gram smiled a toothy, inhuman grin. "Now that, is more like it!"
