Tag Archives: devil

84. This be the account of my untimely death

This be the account of my untimely death and the ungodly acts that follow’d.

‘t was the year of our Lord 1666 and being 66 of age on the sixth day of the sixth month the cabin crew became convinc’d the Devil now walked among them, a grotesque delusion fuel’d by the demise of two powder monkeys and our vessel’s surgeon, disembowell’d, all three, their half-eaten hearts purloin’d.

Under the veil of night they attack’d. Still under Hypnos’ spell I had to wrestle the slumber before I could fight my assailants: a battle Hercules himself could not win.

I received no respite for my supposed villainy. Under a blood-red moon thick cords soon tied figures of eights round my joints as I was strung upside down from the mizzen-mast. The ship’s pastor mutter’d saintly incantations as each crewmember carved a pound of flesh from my shiv’ring body.

After they tarr’d me a torch set me alight, condemning me to a death so gruesome no description could do its horror justice. Yet the cheers sound’d louder than my excruciating screams as the crew celebrated Light’s victory over Darkness. A victory prematurely proclaim’d.

For in the fortnight since my charr’d remains blew across deck terror ruled the vessel. The boatswain excreted insects from all orifices before he ripp’d his innards out. The master carpenter flung his boil-riddl’d body from the stern and the quartermaster gauged out his eyes after feeding his manhood to the sharks that circled the ship. The most horrific demise was reserved for the captain. He was slowly pecked to death, bound to the same mast that had before held my body, his organs eaten by crows and seagulls.

They might have exorcis’d the Devil during that dark night but they did not escape his eternal wrath.

 

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Did you enjoy this story? Then why not try the 101 stories in 300 words or less in YOU’RE GETTING SLEEPY, THE HYPNOTIST’S APPRENTICE YAWNED.

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72. Svetlana was now the richest person in the world

Svetlana was now the richest person in the world. Five million people worked in her stores, selling the innovative product that had come to define the business boom of the past decade. Her bank account was twelve figures and she lived in a stunning Caribbean villa where old masters adorned the walls. Even though she donated one third of her annual profits to charity Svetlana’s wealth kept on expanding. She had truly made it.

And to think it all started in a remote Siberian village when she was barely a few months old, sitting on a dinky carriage pulled by the seemingly dim-witted goat she would wind up selling her soul to.

 

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Did you enjoy this story? Then why not try the 101 stories in 300 words or less in YOU’RE GETTING SLEEPY, THE HYPNOTIST’S APPRENTICE YAWNED.

Available at the Createspace Store, at amazon.com, amazon.co.uk or any other Amazon store in your territory.  E-book is also available.

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41. Beelzebub was having a decidedly off-day

Beelzebub was having a decidedly off-day. Hell was having its coldest winter in eons, his most recent plan to enslave humankind was temporarily put on the backburner due to budget overruns and now it transpired that Jesus Christ’s comeback tour was outselling his own Hellzapoppin’ extravaganza by a considerable margin. Normally the evil overlord would counter his mounting depression with some mindless sadistic torture but all the fun had been sucked out of that since Hell had been overrun with lawyers all too willing to countersue.

Walking amid the furnaces he contemplated throwing in the towel. Running Hell wasn’t the great job it once had been. How he longed for the days when he didn’t have to fight unions on a daily basis, the Catholic Church could still be counted on to reach its quota of heretics and any harm he inflicted on his tortured souls didn’t seem peanuts compared to the Patriot Act.

A couple of centuries ago he had almost handed over the reins to Hell to his eldest son, but he’d backtracked at the last minute and fed him to the dogs instead. If he hadn’t done that someone else could have sorted out this bloody mess while the Prince of Darkness sipped hot lava in the porn actress section of the underworld. Maybe he should call it a day, Beelzebub pondered. See how they’ll like that.

So the next morning he officially resigned from his post, packed his bags and was never seen again. After a brief period of confusion and turmoil, an accountancy firm acquired a controlling majority of the underworld and put forward plans to cut costs, maximise profits and increase brand recognition among Hell’s residents. As Beelzebub had foreseen in his cunning move, the place would never be more insufferable.

 

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Did you enjoy this story? Then why not try the 101 stories in 300 words or less in YOU’RE GETTING SLEEPY, THE HYPNOTIST’S APPRENTICE YAWNED.

Available at the Createspace Store, at amazon.com, amazon.co.uk or any other Amazon store in your territory.  E-book is also available.

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