Jethro's First Soul Reaping

The big day has finally arrived and Jethro cannot wait. His first job all on his own. No supervisor breathing down his neck, no judgy senior colleague Hell-bent on finding something wrong with his performance, and no probation looming over him like the hangman’s noose. His fingers pull and push on his tie as he tries to decide if he wants it loose and casual or slick and proper. All the other demons wear it loose so he decides to do something different and look proper. It is his first soul reaping, after all, and he wants to look his best.

He arrives at 1057 Via Linda with a snap of his fingers. The old apartment building has clearly seen its fair share of demons, with its crumbling ceiling and ratty wallpaper that looks untouched since the construction of the building. In the hallway, the air is thick with anticipation and the smell of old garbage. Or maybe that’s just the leaky plumbing.

His assignment is in Apartment 11, just up the stairs. They give a satisfying creak with each ominous step he takes, making sure to take his time to build suspense. He can only imagine the terror she must be feeling. A demon in the building always has a way of unsettling everyone in the area. Except for cats, most of whom only care about demons if they reap a soul before meal time. Many a demon have been lost that way. He draws a pentagram over himself in the air to honor them.

Luckily, Jethro’s assignment has no cats. Just a single woman in her late 30s who sold her soul to the devil over some boy decades ago. And now Jethro’s here to collect.

“Knock, knock,” his baritone voice booms through the door just before he steps through it and into the apartment.

He’s immediately hit with the stench of moldy food wafting out the open refrigerator door. Hegags. The smell is worse than the brimstone in Hell, that’s for sure. She must’ve left eggs in there. He gags again, struggling to maintain his composure in the filthy living room. His assignment is nowhere in sight.

Fleeing the stench and the mess, he floats over to the closed bedroom door (the bathroom door is open and also emitting a heinous smell…she can’t already be dead, can she?). Just before he slips through the door, he is affronted by a building-shaking sob that cuts straight through his blackened heart.

In the bedroom, his soul-in-waiting is sprawled across the bed, wrapped in her comforter with her face planted squarely between the two pillows. Her pajamas are rumpled and look (and smell) like they haven’t been taken off in days or washed in weeks. Her hair could easily pass for that of a troll doll. And her mascara…the less said about that the better, though she should do something about it before it causes an infection.

“What happened?” Jethro asks, stunned and gasping for words. He’d expected a happy woman in the prime of her life, not whatever this is. When she doesn’t immediately respond, he follows up with her name, which usually gets attention when spoken by a demon in the dark. “Jennifer?”

Jennifer rolls over and sobs in response, seemingly unbothered by the 8 foot hunched demon whose charred wings are scarring the ceiling and whose eyes burn with the fires of a million cursed souls.

This is not at all what should be happening. “You are Jennifer Martinez, yes?” asks Jethro, sure he has simply gotten the address wrong.

She nods, her doll eyes unseeing as they bob with her head.

Jethro sits at the end of the bed, placing a grisly hand on her leg. His talon-esque fingers draw soothing circles along her calf. She lets out a sigh, her breathing slowing.

“Well this simply won’t do,” he announces once her sobs have been replaced by hitched breaths. “I can’t take your soul like this. No, it simply won’t do. I tell you what,” he gives her leg a little smack which releases a fart that had been hiding up her pant leg. “Oh Lucifer, ew.”

He stands back and against the wall, turning his posture into that of a mid-level manager putting on his presentation for the CEO. “Jennifer, Jennifer. You have got it down bad. I don’t know what the problem is but we need to fix this. First, what happened?”

Jennifer sniffles, rubbing a hand across her face then wiping the boogers on her pants. “Carlo left me. Ran off with an old flame.”

“That bastard!” Jethro rubs his hands together like a grasshopper. “Want some revenge?”

This gets Jennifer’s attention and she jolts up in her bed. “Yes! I want nothing more.”

“Excellent! But first, you have to shower and clean this place up a bit. Hell is nicer that this apartment. I’ll be back in the morning.”

True to his word (presumably unlike Carlo), Jethro returns bright and early the next morning with two cups of coffee he scared off a woman coming out of the Starbucks. A bit too sweet for his liking but he has to admit, he is a sucker for pumpkin spice. If only she’d gotten a pumpkin loaf, too. Oh well, perhaps he’ll get one off a victim later.

The apartment is still rank but she’d opened a couple of windows, closed the fridge, and taken out some trash. And, most importantly, she’s showered and changed into clean…er clothes. Good enough. At least they’re heading outside and away from the smells.

“Has anyone ever told you that you look like that alien from that movie?” Jennifer asks, blinking up at him against the bright sun reflecting off his shiny black body.

“You think I look like ET?” Jethro is aghast.

Jennifer snorts. “Of course not. First of all, you’re like three times his height. No, from the movie Alien.”

“Oh yeah, that design was based off an encounter with another demon, Guillermo. Nice guy. Long forehead.” He hands her the spare coffee. “Now, where is this Carlo character and his flame?”

Jennifer’s face twists in revulsion, not dissimilar to Jethro’s face the night before, and her lip curls up, displaying a single fang-like tooth. “They live over in the nice part of town. On Buchanan Street.”

“Then let’s go.” Jethro wraps his long fingers around her arm and suddenly they’re standing in the middle of a street lined with cars worth more than most homes (did back when ‘starter homes’ existed). “One of these?”

Jennifer looks around, her head swiveling back and forth like a fallen metronome. “That one.” Her hand is shaking just slightly, although whether it’s with fear or rage, Jethro isn’t sure, as she points at the third house to their left. It’s a gaudy colonial home freshly painted a light pink that clashes with the dirty brown of the roof. Jethro hates it.

“Yep, they need to be revenged hard. What are you thinking? A drawn out poisoning? Drowning? We could torch the whole place.”

He’s never seen a human’s eyes bulge so far out of their skull before. Well, other than that time he was shadowing Saraya and she squeezed the living bejeezus out of that man to get this soul. Ah, fond memories. Anyway, other than that one time he’s never seen a human’s eyes bulge so far, nor a face turn the shade of the ghostie friends he plays poker with on Tuesdays.

“We- We- No! No murder!”

Jethro is confused. “What other kind of revenge is there?”

Her mouth looks like an engine trying to turn over, just spinning in circles with no sound coming out. Finally, she manages: “Literally anything else! I mean, I still love him.”

“But he left you.”

Heaving a sigh, she collapses onto the sidewalk. “I know, but I still love him. I don’t want to see him hurt, not really. Yeah, I want him to suffer but only like a constantly-stepping-on-Lego situation or all of his socks have that seam under his foot no matter how he turns them.”

“Ohhhhh, so you want the beginner’s revenge package. Got it. Right.” Jethro sits beside her, unable to hide his disappointment. He was sent here today to kill someone and take their soul and now it’s starting to look like he won’t be able to kill anyone. Life is so unfair. He glances over at Jennifer, tears streaming down her face. Darn it all, he’s actually fond of her. Now he’s not even sure he can take her soul.

He tosses an arm around her and pulls her in, letting her shed a few more tears and wipe her eyes with his tie.

“I’ll level with you, Jennifer. I’m here for your soul. I can’t really take your soul when you’re distraught. It would be like eating pizza that had been floating in a fish tank for a week. Just nasty. No offense.”

“Some taken,” she sniffles and blows her nose in his tie.

Ugh, not his silk tie! He lets it slide…this time. “So I can either take your soul after a small revenge or I can spare you and take your ex’s soul.”

At first he’s not sure if she heard him as she pulls out her phone and starts scrolling through Instagram but just as he’s about to repeat himself, she stops scrolling and shows him a photo. It’s of a man and a woman sprawled on a beach, laughing.

“He never smiled like that when we were together. His smiles for me were always tight and shallow. As much as it hurts, I think he’s finally happy with her.”

“So we let him die happy and I get a yummy snack?” Jethro licks his lips as he looks at the happy couple. So much delicious joy.

But Jennifer is shaking her head. “No, take me. For years, he sacrificed everything for me. He worked long, grueling hours so I could pursue my passion and never complained. He gave me all I ever wanted, giving me so many years of happiness at his own expense. Now it’s his turn to be happy for a while. Yes, take me.”

“Well alright then, if you’re sure.”

She nods.

“Can we at least do a little revenge? Please?”

“Just a little.”

“Yes! I have the perfect plan.”

He leads her to the house and helps her climb through a window. It’s unnecessary, of course, as he has decided they won’t be seen but it makes the whole thing more fun to do it this way. Once inside, they tiptoe (again, for fun) along the carpeted hall, up the stairs, and open the door at the end of the hall.

An avalanche of blankets and stuffed animals buries them in seconds.

“Sorry, wrong door.” Jethro opens the next door, which leads them into the bathroom.

“You could’ve just used mine if you have so go,” says Jennifer, looking around warily.

Jethro waves this comment off. He has a genius plan. He hands her a stick of dynamite. “Besides, I wouldn’t set foot in your bathroom until it’s been professionally cleaned.”

“Rude, but fair. What’s this?” she twirls it around like a fairy wand.

“Dynamite.”

She launches it with a start and it lands just beside the toilet. So close. Jethro opens the toilet lid and puts the stick of dynamite inside, along with a few more sticks for good measure. Even though their toilet is sparkling clean (unlike someone’s…he shoots a sidelong glance at Jennifer as if to point this out but she’s distracted with the medicine cabinet), it’s still always funny how weird humans get about toilet water.

“How can she afford these products?!” Jennifer squeals as she pulls out small jar after small jar after small jar after small jar after big jar after squirt bottle after small jar after…oh, who cares!?

“I can ask my boss. He’s usually involved when people have too much money.”

It’s Jennifer’s turn to shoot a sidelong glare and she nails it. If Jethro had a soul, it would be squirming. They’re always looking for people who can master that look…

“These are like hundreds of dollars per ounce. I’ve only ever seen tiny drops used by influencers or movie stars. But she just has jars of them! That is actually insane! I know we’re off to Hell after this but do you think I could take some to try them?” She pauses and her brow furrows in concentration. “Can I wear make-up in Hell or will it just melt off.”

Jethro shrugs. “It depends what area you end up in. But taking those straight to Hell seems like the best use for them. And actually-“ In his attempt at casually offering her a job, he has forgotten that his nails create sparks when he’s excited and one of these has just landed on the dynamite’s ignition cord. He grabs her and runs out of the house via the window they came in, crashing onto the ground below in a shower of glass.

“Anyway, I want you to be my partner.”

Her eyes once again bulge although this time her hue goes to a putrid green, not a ghastly pale.

“No, not like that! I mean like to be a demon and we reap souls together. It gets you a nice penthouse in Hell overlooking the fiery pits of despair, you’ll get to find a lot more rich people products to steal, 30 days PTO, and a great health package.”

She narrows her eyes. “Would I have to look like you?”

“Nah. We come in all shapes. I just like how I look in this body. Gives me a confidence I never had before joining. So what do you say?” He reaches out his hand. An offering.

Just the smallest of hesitations before he feels her warm, squishy hand in his. It’s a deal.

An explosion erupts behind them. Jennifer jolts and turns her head but Jethro reaches out and pushes her face back forward. “Cool demons never look at explosions. I have so much teach you about being a demon.”