[Living World | Hollywood, Los Angeles, California | Nine days since the deal | Vincent Whittman's Private Office | Vincent Whittman's POV]
***
There was a knock at the door. "Excuse me, sir," a woman said.
Vincent stopped eating after hearing Sarah's voice. He put down the his fork, grabbed a napkin, and wiping his mouth. After a two seconds he dropped the now-dirty napkin onto his half-eaten A5 Wagyu rib and pushed the plate to the side. "Enter."
Sarah tentatively opened the door and walked into the office with a stack of papers clutched to her rather large chest. She had a nervous and infatuated look on her face as she shyly stole glances at Vincent—at his handsome face—before looking back down at the ground, slightly confused.
'That's strange. I was never able to look him in the face before. In the past he was just so incredibly handsome, the most beautiful person in the world. It was like looking at the sun.'
Sarah gulped nervously as she walked toward his desk and placed the papers down. She then stepped back, gripping the edges of her pencil skirt, shyly avoiding eye contact with Vincent while still sneaking occasional glances at him.
Vincent watched her for a bit before dismissing her with a wave and grabbing a paper from the stack to read. He then realized Sarah hadn't left and was still standing there. He stopped reading and looked over the paper at her.
"Sarah, tell me, why are you still here?"
Sarah gulped audibly, gripping the edges of her pencil skirt and looking everywhere but at Vincent's eyes, a deep red blush on her face.
"Sir… one of the news directors is here to see you."
Vincent smiled at that.
"Haha, of course. Which one is it?"
Sarah quickly answered, "It's Joe, sir."
Vincent frowned before it was quickly replaced with a stiff smile.
"Th—"
The door was suddenly busted open, slamming into the wall. Sarah jumped in alarm. Revealing the one who slammed the doors open was a middle-aged man in his early fifties wearing a two-piece gray suit that was clearly too small for his obese body. His brown hair was thinning on top. This was Joe, one of the news directors.
His face was dark red—looking angry, or maybe it was from a lack of breath from walking and slamming the door open. "How dare you have me wait! Have you forgotten who gave you this office, this position?!"
Sarah said nothing and slowly stepped to the right, trying her best to make herself as small and invisible as possible. Vincent, still wearing a stiff smile, stood up.
"Forgive me, Joe I was just about to come and get you myself, but I was in the middle of something."
Joe glared at Vincent before snorting through his nose like a pig. He walked fully into the office, took a seat, and pulled Sarah into his lap. She froze with a look of horror and disgust on her face but didn't move or make a noise as he began to fondle her.
Sarah stared at Vincent with a pleading look and unshed tears in her eyes while Joe continued to fondle her. Vincent slowly sat back down, folding his fingers on his desk and completely ignoring Sarah's silent plea as he looked at Joe.
She had a look of hurt, betrayal, and disgust on her face, but still carried that infatuated expression as she stared at Vincent. Joe had begun licking Sarah's neck as his hands slowly snaked up her leg and under her skirt. "mmmaaahh" Sarah unintentionally and involuntarily moan at Joe's touch, which only fueled his advances.
"Um, Joe… while I do enjoy your visit," Vincent said through clenched teeth, looking like he had swallowed something sour. Just as quickly he schooled his face back into a fake stiff smile.
Joe hadn't noticed, too focused on Sarah. Realizing Joe was distracted, Vincent cleared his throat loudly. "Joe, I doubt you're only visiting me for pleasantries."
That seems to bring him out of his lust, and back to the present. He squeezed Sarah's breast one more time before unceremoniously pushing her off his lap. There was a soft thud as Sarah hit the floor with a barely audible "eep."
She quickly and carefully got off the floor, trying her best not to attract Joe's attention again. Joe stared at Vincent with an irritated look as Sarah slowly fixed her clothing. "Get out of here, woman. The men are talking now."
Joe shooed her off. Sarah didn't need to be told twice. She walked to the door as quickly as possible without seeming rude, giving Vincent one last look of yearning before leaving and gently shutting the door behind her with a soft click.
Joe and Vincent were left alone in the room with an awkward silence between them. Vincent still wore that fake stiff smile. Joe either didn't notice it was fake or simply didn't care.
The room stayed silent for a minute as they stared at each other before Joe broke it, still wearing that irritated look. "Me and my brother talked about whether we should promote you to Chief News Anchor." Vincent had a real smile at hearing this, getting excited.
"After all," Joe's tone changed, causing Vincent to pay closer attention, "your ratings in the past were slowly declining. You were about to get fired. But all of a sudden your ratings spiked out of nowhere for the last couple of days, with all the lonely housewives tuning in… not for the news, but for you."
"That's the only reason you got your own private office even though you're just a news anchor. Now, sadly for you, your age is finally catching up with you. In the last two days your ratings have been the lowest I've ever seen—even worse than before. Hell, just today I went over the reports and your rating is at an all-time low."
Vincent was still smiling, but frozen. "Ha… ha… ha." He laughed awkwardly, forcing a fake stiff smile that twitched occasionally. "That's a very good joke."
SLAM!
Joe slammed the desk, causing some items to knock over and fall to the floor. "Joke?! Joke?! Do you think I'll waste my damn time coming down here just to tell you a goddamn joke?!"
His face was bright red as he huffed and puffed. He slowly calmed down and fixed his tie. "I understand. I get how you're feeling."
Vincent stopped paying attention to Joe as he looked over at the mirror and saw his own reflection.
He still looked handsome, but that was the problem. He should have been incredibly handsome. There were even barely noticeable wrinkles slowly forming on his face. A couple of white strands of hair. He was aging. Vincent felt apprehension.
He quickly looked over at the calendar, staring at the date marked T.D., and mentally counted from there to today. He came to the realization—it had been nine days since the deal, and today was the tenth.
Vincent stared at the calendar.
'So the deal ends today… but why does it look like I am rapidly aging? I didn't look like this before the deal. After all, Trigon did say this was a ten-day trial and it didn't cost me anyth—' That was when Vincent recalled the cost of the deal.
[Trigon:] 'No. Not only will it cost you a kill, but it will also cost your soul. Since I am giving you so much, it will cost a body and your soul. But you have a ten-day trial, so you don't have to worry about the soul and kill cost… unless you take a life before the ten days are up.'
A cold feeling settled in Vincent's stomach as terror ran through his whole body. He came to the realization.
'Trigon never said the trial was free. He just said don't worry about the cost if I don't go through with it.'
He gripped the edges of his desk as his fingers dented it slightly in fear when he realized he'd been played by the demon.
He looked at his own reflection and saw a hideous creature overlapping with it—bald-headed, wrinkled, skeletal, with sunken lifeless eyes and yellow missing teeth. It was himself at the end of this day. After all, it couldn't decide what was original.
'He knew. He knew that once I realized it, I would kill. I never truly had a choice.' Vincent slowly brought his attention back to Joe, who had a pleased look on his face as he continued talking.
"I'm glad you're not fighting this, boy. You'll be able to keep your office. After all, you were our golden goose for a while… but your looks are fading. We need new blood. You understand. It's nothing personal. It's business."
Vincent put on a fake smile. "Yes, Joe. I understand. It's business after all." Joe smiled even wider, pleased with Vincent's response.
"Good, good. My helicopter should be here, so I should be going. I have an important meeting to attend to."
Joe took a couple of seconds to get out of his chair, stood up, and walked toward the door. Seeing an opportunity, Vincent spoke up. "Joe, you're heading to the roof, right? Would you like some company?"
Vincent stood up smiling, but there was a dark glint in his eyes that went unnoticed by Joe. Joe turned around looking like he was about to refuse, before pausing and rethinking it.
"Fine. You can keep me company." Joe turned back around, opened the door, exited the office, and left it open.
Vincent's smile dropped into a deep frown, a murderous look in his eyes. He glanced down at his right arm, where a barely visible tattoo was poking out from his sleeve. It was fading. Time was running out.
He schooled his features, putting on that fake smile as he followed behind Joe and shut his office door—his soon-to-be bigger and nicer office. As they made their way to the elevator, Vincent had to listen to Joe talk about his new partner who would be replacing him. Some young guy named Buddy. Every time he heard the name, Vincent clenched his fist and ground his teeth while keeping that fake smile on his face.
Ding. The elevator doors opened as Vincent and Joe walked out onto the roof. It was lightly raining.
"Of fucking course it's raining." Joe grumbled, but he didn't seem bothered by the rain. He walked over to the edge and looked out at the city.
"You know, boy, I love this view. It does something to me… knowing all these bottom feeders in this beautiful city. Knowing they follow my every whim, eating up every little thing me and my brother air. We own this city. Hahaha."
***
[HBHades Here]
Hey, I'm going to be real with y'all. I'm having problems with writing this one out. I couldn't think of anything good… I don't know, man. Hope y'all are enjoying this chapter so far.
Grabs your shoulder aggressively while staring at you. But seriously, I need your guys' feedback. I can't improve without it. PLEASE!
Clearing throat. Sorry about that. You can go back to reading now that I've completely fucked up your immersion.
***
Vincent slowly walked up to Joe, taking a moment to look at the city himself. "Yes, it's a very beautiful and lovely city. I can't wait to become a god of it." The rain got stronger. "What?" Joe was turning around before—
Push. Slip. "Ahhh!"
Joe fell off the roof but managed to grab the edge. He was slowly losing his grip thanks to the rain. Looking up, he saw Vincent standing there with his right hand stretched out.
"Vincent, don't fucking stand there—help me!" Joe screamed at the top of his lungs.
He was slowly losing his grip thanks to the rain, his weight, and gravity. Vincent, with his hair drenched and slightly covering his eyes, had a smile on his face as he crouched down and looked at Joe. Soon Vincent's smile twisted, becoming ugly, monstrous, and terrifying—demonic in Joe's eyes. It scared him so badly he almost slipped, but he managed to keep his hold.
Vincent had a look of disgust, hatred, and pity in his eyes as he stared down at Joe. "I'd like to thank you for reminding me that my trial was running out."
Joe tried to grab Vincent's legs. Vincent stopped him by grabbing his wrist. "What trial? What are you talking about? Just help me up!" Vincent let go of his wrist and stood back up as Joe grabbed the edge in panic. The rain was getting stronger.
"I'm sorry, but I have a price to pay… and you're the cost. After all, if I don't do this, I will lose everything. But be happy—you're going to help me ascend to godhood, Joe. Truly, thank you."
Vincent raised his left foot. Joe realized what he was about to do. "Wait, wait, wait! Is this about the promotion—about replacing you?! You can have it! You don't need to do this!"
Vincent tilted his head slightly to the right, looking down at Joe.
"Of course I have to. You're just unlucky to be the first one. After all… this is just business. Nothing personal. So just be a footnote in my history." Crunch."Ahhh!"
Joe lost his grip after Vincent stomped on his hand, breaking his fingers in the process. He watched Joe fall about six to eight stories. He fell pretty fast, his weight not helping. Then he hit the pavement—Splat. "Ahhh! HELP!"
People on the street below screamed and ran around calling for help. The rainfall grew harder. Vincent watched it all from the rooftop, feeling a strong burning sensation run through his right arm.
He rolled up his sleeve and looked at his arm, seeing a slight dark purple glow—but just as quickly it stopped. The tattoo was now very visible. Something deep inside of him felt missing… hollowed out. His soul was gone. Permanently gone. "I did it. I—"Hahaha!"
Thunder illuminated the sky, lighting up Vincent as he laughed chaotically.
***
[HBHades]
So you think you're cute, huh? Think you could sit back, relax, read my damn story and not do anything for me? Nah, we don't play those games here.
Now here's what you're gonna do for me: slap down a belt, a chancla, a tub of Vaseline, and a half-eaten jar of peanut butter on the desk.
Now, I don't want to get creative with you, so let's make it simple. You give me some stones, a comment… maybe a review? What the hell—add it to your library too.
Get on my ass about not uploading for too long. Tell me what you like about my story. Stuff like that. After all, You don't want me to get creative with you right?
I'm happy that we had this little conversation. But on a serious note—please tell me what you think of this chapter. Interact with me. I just want to see what you guys like and what you don't.
Another thing: should I be stockpiling stories? Because like I said, the process of how I do these stories is just off the top of my dome. I'm just raw-dogging it with no kind of safety. It happens as it goes. I am just as clueless as you.
And because I really only sit down when I feel inspirational… Now. I'm not saying I can't write something out it just when I try to force myself to sit down and write, I don't get shit done.
And I kind of just fuck off and go do something else. I've been working on trying to force myself to write even when I don't feel a strong motivation.
But to be honest, I might start stockpiling future stories and just not post them whenever I have a good idea or something like that.
Ah jeez, y'all let me start yapping again. Anyway, thanks for reading. Hope you guys have a good day, good night, afternoon wherever. Stay safe out there. Bye…
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
I come back looking around, making sure you're not here before I take the tub of Vaseline and walk toward the bathroom. "Man, I've been holding this in."
Did you dead ass stay around just to see this? Man, if you're that bored, just go read another fanfic of mine.