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Sell Your Soul and be SavedThis story may contain adult content. |
| Written by Chris | |
| Monday, 11 February 2008 | |
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Share it:      His soul ran like liquefied butter into the devil's hand bag. His last fleeting glimpse of the world was Big Ben, in all its persistence. Michael Azazel sold his soul for the first printed Bible...He was only able to enjoy it for the split second the devil required to open his handbag. Now his soul flooded into to the Devil's abyss. "Why aren't I in hell?" Michael asked himself as he was cast into absolute darkness. "Why you're in the devil's purse," a cracked voice answered. Michael remained too stunned to speak, "the devil must have put him in hell already...he beat Hitler's time," the voice wondered aloud in response to the silence. "Damn it. I'm still here," Michael responded. "Oh, I thought we might have met someone worse than Hitler..." "Well, at least I'll have something cheerful to think about now." Michael asked, "How long do we stay here?" "Oh, it's like the opposite of purgatory--depends on how much good you did," the voice answered. "Alright..." Michael answered, already trying to guess how long he would be trapped in the devil's handbag, "who are you?" "Well," the voice began, "I was the Holy Spirit, but now I obviously can't do Holyish things anymore..." "You mean I was praying for no ******* reason!!" Michael screamed. "Well, Jesus and the Father are up there somewhere," the Holy Spirit answered. "So..." "It just means that none of your prayers will be granted," the Holy Spirit replied in a resigned voice. "How did you end up here?" Michael asked, now becoming increasingly enraged. "Well, I found this guy with no soul, so...I inhabited him and offered to sell our soul, figuring I could steal the Devil's bag," the Holy Spirit again answered. "So, it didn't work..." Michael asked; now full of wonder the type inspired when one comes to a revelation of this sort. "...outsmarted..." the Holy Spirit mumbled, clearly still sore over the defeat. "Is there anyone else in here?" Michael asked, changing the subject to hopefully uncover more answers. "The devil's soul is in here somewhere, but I doubt we would ever find it because of how SMALL it is," the Holy Spirit answered, placing an emphasis on 'small.' Seeing the confused physiognomy of Michael the Holy Spirit said: "I've been trying to provoke him into talking for a while now...Nearly 900 years." "So...you disappeared during the Middle Ages. Way to ******* go," Michael scoffed at the Holy Spirit. "...Actually, it was just before the First Crusade..." the Holy Spirit replied, trying to preserve some dignity. Michael thought of a reply, but restrained himself. "So, who else is here..." Michael asked the darkness. "Well...the devil believes in keeping his enemies close so its: Me, his soul, your soul; I can't figure why you're still here, Judas', Patton's, and um..." "Henry the VIII, you blithering moron," King Henry shouted. "Thank you," the Holy Spirit sarcastically replied, "and of course Eve is in here somewhere." "Is there a way out?" Michael asked. "Do you seek to insult my intelligence!!! What the bloody hell do you think we've been doing?" King Henry bellowed. "Well then...I think we should pray-"Michael began. As he finished the Lord's Prayer, something miraculous occurred: A single beam of light sliced through the bag. * * * "You were in there for 900 hundred years and you never thought to pray?!" Michael bellowed at the Holy Spirit. Copyright 2008 Chris |
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| Last Updated ( Monday, 11 February 2008 ) |
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