Another week, another Seventh Sanctum prompt! First line, as usual:
All the demon lords where giggling, but what else was new? They were always giggling. In fact, if Helen didn’t know any better she’d say they always giggled extra on Monday morning when everyone else was sleepy and cranky and unhappy to be there. It would be just like them, she thought, shooting a sour look across the room as she set her bag down by her desk, then turning her attention to her computer instead before anyone noticed.
No-one at the office liked Mondays. Even the demon lords didn’t like them, they just liked everyone else’s misery more than they disliked their own obligation to get out of bed early and wrangle their bed-head hair into obedience and wear real clothes and buy a crummy sandwich for lunch because there’s no leftovers and having to get squished between people on a crowded train… Okay, maybe Helen was projecting a little bit. She was pretty sure the demon lords all carpooled, but even without having to deal with other stressed commuters there was no was they could be this cheerful on a Monday morning without some kind of malice being at play. Either way, the only way through was… well, through. She cracked her knuckles and double-clicked on her mailbox. 46 unread messages, up by 31 from when she’d left last night. She sighed, and a swathe of laughter bubbled out of the chest of Tehl-Ohl-Glurh, the largest and most pierced of the demon princes, and smacked into her temples. Cringing, she pinched the bridge of her nose. She could already feel a headache brewing. It was gonna be a long day.
What felt like roughly half an eternity later, the elevator dinged and Helen stepped out into the lobby on the bottom floor. She felt exhausted, and famished. That sandwich hadn’t been nearly enough. She was ordering pizza tonight, that was for sure. No energy for cooking.
“Night, Walt,” she said as she passed by the grey-haired chain devil behind the front desk.
“G’night, Miss,” he rattled back as she pushed the front doors opened. Strapping her messenger bag across her front, she rolled her shoulders back and unfolded her bright red wings, shaking the stillness of the day out of them before spreading them wide. With a single forceful beat, she taken to the sky, zipping home through the chill Monday evening air.
Silly little piece. Also, I realize now upon rereading it, perhaps not strictly a story since nothing really happens. But I like it anyway, hah! There’s just something really appealing to me about an office drama with a bunch of demons and other paranormal beings. It amuses me even when it’s not strictly funny. I should write something longer along such veins, one day.