Career management in one easy step

Career management in one Easy Step

Luc is sprawled on the overly large bed that takes up half of the all expenses paid hotel room. I’m trying to type up some of the back-story for the article I’m supposed to have ready by the end of the week. I should be concentrating but the presence of my annoying smirking benefactor. Sometimes I regretted making the deal: usually when he is getting on my nerves.
The news has already reported that protestors are gathering in front of the Palace of Peace. So much fuss about a few hundred miles of reinforced concrete.
I don’t even know why I’m suddenly here on this story. Usually I report on armed conflicts and wars. Reports and hearings aren’t my thing but I’m being paid and get a luxury hotel all expenses paid and while I will eventually be writing the damn article eventually but that doesn’t mean that I won’t take a few days off for a mini vacation. Maybe I’ll go see a few windmills and tulips or something.
Luc is apparently taking a vacation as well. When he is busy I don’t see him for months at a time except for lightning visits to bitch about his job or to tell me about other people he is sponsoring. I am always surprised to hear how many people have the same deal with Luc as me.
I had met Luc just out of college while I was struggling to pay off my loans and get a job that would actually make me some money. I was a pretty good writer but I was also young and with barely any experience. Luc had liked my work from the start and we became something like friends. Then suddenly just a few months after we met I got a job offer from a prestigious paper. I wrote local news and small articles. It wasn’t anything prestigious in itself but it was a start. I didn’t suspect any meddling until Luc came out and asked how I liked my new job. He said that I could do even better if I signed a contract that I would make him my estate executioner after my death. Since I didn’t own shit and desperately needed money I agreed. From that moment my career seemed to skyrocket. Inside of five years I was writing articles about subject that actually interested me, big papers and magazines were offering me contracts left and right.
The back round information wasn’t yelling so I decided to go look at the protestors outside the court. Luc seemed to have fallen asleep and I needed some space. Grabbing my bag and a coat I left the room public transport wasn’t my favourite way of getting around but getting a taxi would take too long. In the bus I noticed an old woman staring at me from across the lain. That wasn’t so unusual really I had spent a lot of time in Middle America lately so my clothing wasn’t exactly up to date or particularly intact. But I had decided that since no one had to look at me while I was reporting I didn’t have to look my best. So clothing wasn’t high on my list of things to do. I ignored her looking out of the window. There days it seemed like weirdoes crawled out of the woodwork everywhere. Still I could feel someone looking at me. If one spends enough time in hostile situations one will learn to sense it when someone else is paying attention to them. It wasn’t comfortable but I had only a few more stops to go. At my stop I was forced to walk passed her to get out of the bus. As soon as I was in her hearing range she started mumbling crossing her-self as I walked passed. Weirdoes really were everywhere.
Protestors of the investigation were on one side and the protestors of the wall were on the other. They had come to the palace in a protest march. The police and ME were keeping them away from the entrances. People were not happy I imagined that I could smell strong emotions in the air. To my surprise there was potential for a story, a good one and not the usual overbearing dribble everyone else had been sprouting for years now. Positioning my-self so I could see all parties I made my-self comfortable leaning against a fence and watched. Something was bound to happen and I was going to make sure that I would see it.
I come back to the hotel blood soaking the sleeve of my coat and images of carnage burned on my retinas. I have no idea how I have managed to get back, all I really know is that I have to get to my laptop and write. The story will be good, maybe my best article ever. I find my-self at my laptop still bloody and not caring. Words tumble out of my mind without any conscious decision on my part. All I know is that they have to be written. I hadn’t expected something like this when I went out this afternoon. I don’t know what I had expected but not this not a real story. For the first time in my career I have the exclusive, and exclusive in human nature. An insight so priceless I would give anything for it. My fingers fly over the keyboard as the story becomes longer and longer. It seems that as the article gets longer more insights tumble out on to the screen. I feel like I am in a haze floating over my body and looking at my-self from the side. For a moment I wonder if it’s really me who is writing the article and dismiss the question immediately; who else would? After what seems like minutes but is probably hours I am finished. I press the ‘send’ button and the story in on its way. After I am sure it has arrived I collapse.
I wake up from the heat. How the hell can it be hot when it’s mid winter? Last I remember it wasn’t freezing but there was also no heat wave expected. The first thing I see is Luc sitting across from me looking…different. For example he has horns. A sinking feeling starts in the pit of my stomach.

“I expect you have questions?”

The words remind me of the day I signed the contract. He said the same words after pulling out the contract. Now the words sound sinister then they had sounded simply amused.

“Where the hell am I?”

“Hell.”

I wonder if Luc has gone crazy but then the horns are kind of a giveaway of the opposite. And it is awfully hot.

“I didn’t tell you my full name did I?”

“Your full name?”

“Yes, shall I properly introduce my-self? Lucifer the Ruler of Hell.”
Flames dance in his eyes and it suddenly gets hotter. The walls of the room fall way and I get my first look in to hell. As the fires come closer Lucifer addresses me for the last time.

“O by the way your article made you famous. You died from the piece of metal that had wounded you in the explosion, bleed to death right after finishing it. They named a new journalism award after you. Now tell me dear, was it worth it?”
And the flames start scourging my flesh.