Sometimes the demons of hell take inspiration from earth
2021-01-01
”So, like, I can’t even believe Ricky would say that to her. Like Jessica deserves so much better”
”I know right girl, I don’t know what she sees in him”
”It’s those abs. They are in-sane.”
”Oh my god, they are”
These two women sitting next to me had been talking about the same garbage reality show like this for the last half hour. I don’t know who Ricky and Jessica were, but I swore to myself that if I ever ran into them, I would strangle them both with my bare hands for being the reason why I had to listen to this conversation.
Just sitting and waiting for an hour at the DMV was enough to make me think about going postal but this was slowly pushing me over the edge. The only thing preventing me was how much work going on a killing spree seemed like. Also, it would make renewing my driver’s license take even longer.
I glance down at the faintly glowing brimstone-like vertical scars on my wrists that remind me of how I got here in the first place. In the past, that would have seemed like one way to escape this kind of situation, but now I’m afraid that I would just wake up in an even worse nightmare. In some kind of Uber-hell for the very worst that humanity has to offer.
”Number two hundred and fifty three!” Yelled the lady from behind the counter with a raspy voice and flat tone.
I took a glance at the now crumpled-up paper I had been holding for the last hour. I had to make sure for the fifteenth time that 253 was really my number and it had not changed from 5 minutes ago since I looked at it last.
“Two hundred and fifty-three!” She yelled, even louder than before.
I got up from my seat and walked up to her at the counter. The counter was wide and had little dividers at even intervals indicating that there could be up to six people working behind the counter, seeing customers. In all the times I had the misfortune of having to go to the DMV I had never seen more than 2 people at a time behind that counter.
“What can I do for ya, sir?” She asks with a thick Boston accent.
“I need to get my driver’s license renewed.”
“Right”
I hand her my existing license and the forms I was instructed to fill out beforehand by the website. As she was going over my documents, I noticed the white wings she had tucked away behind her.
“I don’t mean to be rude by asking this, but are you a fallen angel?”
She glances at me for a moment before shifting her attention back to the computer and answers flatly like she had gone through this conversation many times before “Yes sir. I am.”
“Can I ask why you’re here?”
“The same reason as everybody else. I did something the big man wasn’t keen on, so he threw me down here with the rest of ya.”
“Okay. So, why are you here, at the DMV?”
She stops typing for a moment and seems even a bit wistful for a moment. “Look, everybody needs a job. It ain’t glamorous, but it pays the bills and keeps me off the streets, and trust me if you was like me you really wouldn’t wanna be on the streets. Humans ain’t too fond of angels like me.”
“I can only imagine what it’s like for an angel to be stuck in hell.”
“Let me tell ya, it sucks. This place used to be alright when it wasn’t full of people. You’ve seen what happens on earth when charismatic assholes get their hands on some money and power. At least on earth you got some good people that kinda balance it out so it’s mostly okay, but here it’s nothing but assholes and douchebags for as far as the eye can see, with a few okay people mixed in who just got abortions or slit their wrists like you”
At her remark I instinctively sink my arms deep into my pockets, out of shame as if it had any use now.
“You seem like a good kid, so I think you understand what it’s like to be trapped in a place where you don’t really belong.” She remarks.
“Yeah, I get what you mean.“
”So back to the matter at hand, you’re going to need to fill out form 26-B before I can submit the application for a new license.”
“Well do you have one here or can you print out one for me so I can fill it out?”
“No. You’re going to have to walk over to that table over there and grab one and then grab a new queue number for yourself.” She says, pointing to the table on the other side of the room.
“Wait, you’re not serious, are you?” I ask, confounded by the stupidity of how I need to wait another hour because I can’t just walk over and grab a form and walk back to the counter.
“Oh I’m serious. It’s company policy to take a new customer as soon as the previous one gets up. Sorry, I don’t make the rules, I just work here.”
“For the love of God…”
“God doesn’t love you sir, that’s why you’re here.”
Written in 2022 for the prompt “Do you know what fallen angels do in hell? We cry in a corner. The only people in hell who torture humans are other humans.” by u/GreggoryBasore in r/WritingPrompts