Rising

Wes stopped abruptly. He could not see through the darkness, but he sensed there was an opening in front of him. He guessed he was at the entrance of hell, he had to ascend no more.

What? Why am I ascending into hell?

His eyes darted in trying to discern what was past the gateway in front of him but he only saw a reddish black wall. He heard a click

Suddenly light swarmed into his vision and Wes was blinded. He inhaled sharply and expected hell to descend on him, but he heard a voice.... a nasal and tired voice...

"What the fuck are you doing, get the hell in here"

Wes stood stunned and blind: who was this??

"Get in here, you're letting in the draft!!"

Wes felt a calloused hand grab his shirt collar and pull him into the room and onto the soft wet ground, and then the sounds faded too.

Wes woke up on his back, he knew this because he was staring up at a light bulb suspended from the cramped cieling and millimeters from his mouth. He heard the incessant clicking of a pen. Someone was very irritated...

Wes sat up abruptly, avoiding the low light bulb. He examined his world...

"It's a room" he spoke from shock and regretted it at the immediate stopping of the pen.

The nasal voice spoke from behind him: "Here, sign this"

Wide eyed, Wes turned and saw a lanky demon with nothing on his green callous skin but glasses and a red and white striped tie. He was slouched behind a cheap wooden desk, scattered blank papers and piles of detached sticky notes was all that was on it. Oh The Horror!

The Nasal One spoke: "You have a choice between tea with Moloch, Badminton with Beelzebub, or a sermon with Lucifer. Sign."

Wes glared at the demon.

"Thats all I get? What is this?? I demand my service!"

The green receptionist took a blank sheet from his desk and blew into it with his nose.

"You now have the choice to sit here for fifteen minutes. Sign."

Wes, in contemplative gesture, considered his alternative.

"I'll take it. What do I sign?"