A cigarette is struck; a smoke is taken. A deep, quiet thunder rolls in the distance. Around, there is nothing but soft darkness, and the fading afterglow of the dwindling stick of slow death being sucked in, and out. It is all night-quiet. And then a soft sigh.
“This is no heaven,” says a voice, low and husk.
“Yes, I could tell,” responds another. “I figured from the row of severed heads on spikes along the gate.”
“A delightful decoration choice, from last October’s makeover resolutions,” comments the first voice.
“Stupefying dreadful, to say the least.”
“You’ll be one for observing tastes and tenures, Jack. After what you did to Belphegor at the sails.” The low voice is now accompanied by an encumbered movement. Something large rises, casting heavy shadow upon open shade. And then, lightning flashes.
“Looking good there ‘bub,” says Jack, finishing off the cigarette in hand and immediately pulling out a stick of gum. A force of habit.
The Lord Beelzebub eyes the gum chewing man in front of him with feigned interest, stretching his elongated bat wings above and beyond. “There is no business for you here, immortal. State your purpose, or leave this realm of ruin.”
At this, a gold coin is produced and tossed in the air. For a moment, it hangs suspended, before being snatched hungrily by the large monstrous hand of the demon prince.
“Recognise the sigil? Pretty rare stuff, if I do say so myself. And I’m saying it, quite directly…to you.”
Beelzebub inspects the tiny element between his talons. “It is a pretty thing indeed. A remnant of forgone human destruction and despair. Curiosity thus beckons. Tell me immortal what barter do you seek, for this nugget of lavish currency?”
“The prodigal treasures of Atlantis were a bitch to find. Still, I’ve noticed your insectoid buddies along the way. You know what I’m after ‘bub. Tell me what I need to know, before I split your fuck face in half.” Jack blows a gum bubble. It pops.
The Lord of Flies laughs, a rambling crackle of undertones which shakes the ground. “True! True! That is what they say of the nefariously nimble and quick witted Jack, who seeks entry to the Lady Desire’s heart of hearts – you are one for the keeping immortal, and one day, we shall claim your old, old soul. Still, this compact is agreed upon, for now. So listen carefully: the key to Desire’s heart lies along Lucifer’s path of limbo, inside his Demented Tree of Beautiful Agony. There, twelve demon dogs and the twin siblings of Chaos and Order guard the artefact in question. My minions tell me you have already lost precious time in Oz Land. And so an offering is proffered…” A blackish stub is produced to Jack, who eyes it in silence.
“You may reach the outer walls by Babylonian candle. All I humbly ask for in return, is a favour owed. Immortal, are we in accord? If so, then if you will…
Jack be nimble
Jack be quick
Jack jump over
the candle stick.”
