Member-only story
All My Favourite Demons
angst noun: a strong feeling of worry about what you should do, how you should behave, or what will happen in the future
The pungent smell of brimstone wafted through the corridors as Herman hurried along, tea slopping out the sides of his cup as he waddled side to side. His gait was an awkward combination of hop, shuffle and stumble as the ears of his fuzzy bunny slippers got caught on the rough stone surface of the dark hall. It was midnight, the moon was full, and the brethren of hell were gathering.
And Herman was late. Again.
Throwing himself into the door carved with the faces of a thousand souls cursed with eternal damnation, he managed to open it just a crack and slide into the meeting room.
You’re late
The voice rattled through Herman’s skull and made his skin crawl.
“Yes. Yes sir. I’m so sorry, sir. Won’t happen again.” With every word, the diminutive demon bowed his head and spilt a little more tea on his knit cardigan. Shoving his spectacles up on his squat nose, he took one last bow and fled to his stool at the end of the long meeting table. Herman was short and round, especially for one of the denizens of hell. He didn’t fit in any of the majestically carved stone chairs that…
