T. A. Chase

Wednesday Work in Progress…

Thought I’d give you another peek at Teivel and To Hell With the Devil. 🙂 Re-reading this really makes me want to finish it…lol. Have to figure out how to fit it into my schedule to get done.

To Hell With the Devil copyright 2013 c. T.A. Chase

Excerpt:

I shift on the hard seat of the horrific throne I was led to after I killed the devil.  I really need to get a grip on my temper because killing Achan had to have been the worst mistake of my entire stupid life. Now I’m surrounded by demons, imps and other denizens of hell. All of whom expect me to tell them what to do.

I sigh and rest my elbow on the arm of the throne, propping my chin on my palm.  Achan had seriously bad taste in furniture.  My new seat of power is made from human bones with skulls acting as feet for it. Sick twisted bastard.

My ass grows numb. I feel it spreading and flattening. Hell no. I might be stuck in this psychotic asylum, but I won’t let my body go to seed.  I’m brooding about how to get a gym down here when something tugs on my pant leg.

I stare down in astonished fascination at the horned toad talking to me. Who the hell knew toads grew to that size? It stands on two feet and its large gelatinous lips flap at me for a minute. I can’t understand a fucking word it says.

“What,” I ask as it stares at me with what I suppose is a look of anticipation.

Spit lands on my face when it speaks again. Wiping it off my cheek with disgust, I shake my head.

“I have no clue what you’re saying.” Looking around the room at the other hellish host, I point to the toad. “Do any of you have a fucking idea what he might be saying?”

Feet, hooves and claws shuffle. No one meets my gaze.  Damn my temper. I killed the only person who could have told me what I needed to know.

“Master, I might be of assistance.”

A high squeaky voice grates on my nerves and makes me grit my teeth.

“Not if you continue to talk like that you won’t.  Like fingernails on a chalkboard.” I feel a brush on my shoulder.  Nothing’s there. “Where the hell are you?”

“I’m beside you, Master, but I’m merely a spirit and have no corporal body.” The shrillness of the voice has been tempered to a level I can tolerate. “You simply need to touch the imp and take his language into your head.”

“Simply? Of course, why didn’t I think of that?”

“Maybe you should have thought about your actions before you killed Achan, Master.”  There’s a hint of sarcasm in the disembodied voice.

Great. My assistant is a freaking comedian.

“No shit, Sherlock.  Just so you know, I don’t think before I act and I never apologize.  Understand those two things about me and we’ll be best friends.”  I grimace, reach out to lay the tip of one finger on the toad’s head.  “Is there a spell I need to intone or anything like that?”

“This isn’t a fantasy movie.  You think about what you want and it shall be given to you.”

“I want an overstuffed arm chair in a nice shade of periwinkle blue. One of my best colors.  This stupid throne is going to give me middle age spread and I’m not even in my late twenties yet.”

Swoosh. My ass sinks into the cushion of a blue armchair.  I grin. “This is more like it.” Wrinkling my nose, I touch the toad again. “I want to understand what this thing is saying to me.”

My head wants to explode.  Too much information appears in my brain. Jerking away from the toad, I fist my hands in my hair and moan.  Taking deep breaths, I calm down enough to get a grip on the words tumbling around in my head.  When I no longer want to cry out from the pressure, I sit back and stare at the toad.

“All right, Jeremiah, what do you want?”

The toad’s enormous cranium tilts like it’s puzzled by what I say.  “Who’s this Jeremiah?”

“He’s a bull frog.” I wave a hand. “Never mind.  What do you want?”

“I’m not a bull frog. I’m an imp.  I wonder if you would be willing to lift the curse on me.” A webbed appendage flaps at me.

“What did he do?” I lean closer to where I assume the spirit still hovers.

“He broke Achan’s favorite glass. It was the one he got at Disney World. It had Mickey Mouse on it.” The spirit’s voice seems to shrug. “He was unnaturally attached to that glass.”

“That’s fucked up.  Turning some guy into a horned toad for breaking a glass.”

“Yes. Well, it wasn’t really the breaking part that pushed Achan over the edge. It was more the trying to slit his throat with a shard of it part.”

I squint at the toad.  Its innocent expression doesn’t fool me.  “I think you need to stay in that form for a while.  Teach you not to mess with the master of hell, no matter who he is.”

I reach out and grip his slimy wrist in my hand, jerking the imp as close as I could stand him to be without passing out from his foul smell. “If it ever crosses your mind to try and kill me, be aware that I’ll simply kill you, not turn you into a toad.”

With a causal toss, I fling the imp across the room. Splat goes the toad, I think. A long suffering sigh issues from the non-existent person beside me. I glare at the spot where I think it stands.

Wednesday, August 7th, 2013, by and is filed under "Excerpts, To Hell with The Devil, Wednesday WiPs, writing ". You can leave a response here, or send a Trackback from your own site.