Hell
on Tuesdays
By
Stuart Robinson
Matt was sat in his dull grey office cubicle. Staring
at the blinking dot of an opened word processor document with no word
processing done. His mind is blank like the screen in front of him. Matt’s head
was resting upon his palm, his elbow on his desk and his other hand nursing a
cold cup of milky chemical-tasting coffee.
Matt was wondering how long he’d been at work, he
felt like it had been hours since he had started that morning. Matt barely
moved a muscle in his body, bleary red eyes turned and focused on an ancient piece
of utilitarian plastic called a clock. It read five minutes past nine. Matt let
out a baleful groan and immediately realised his mistake.
The noise had attracted the attention of his boss.
It felt like a cold and heavy stone had materialised into his stomach, then he
heard the words he was dreading.
“Matthew I’m going to need you to stay till seven
tonight, alright? Thanks pal”
*
Matt woke with a jolt, the searing red hot bed of
needles ripping into his flesh as his body moved instinctively and the insects
that lived under him fed on his fresh dripping blood.
“Oh thank God it was just a dream!” thought Matt and he settled back into his bed, the incredible pain was just a comforting reminder that he was dead and never had to work another damn day.
Matt looked at the thin layer of flayed skin that served at the entrance to his cell and thought the colour of the hellfire outside suggested it must be morning. Suddenly the skin ripped open and in stomped an enormous hulking beast, a patchwork of scales, skin and fur that covered rippling muscle and it roared at Matt, the breath smelling of rot, sulphur and sin.
“Oh thank God it was just a dream!” thought Matt and he settled back into his bed, the incredible pain was just a comforting reminder that he was dead and never had to work another damn day.
Matt looked at the thin layer of flayed skin that served at the entrance to his cell and thought the colour of the hellfire outside suggested it must be morning. Suddenly the skin ripped open and in stomped an enormous hulking beast, a patchwork of scales, skin and fur that covered rippling muscle and it roared at Matt, the breath smelling of rot, sulphur and sin.
“Good morning
Nigel” Said Matt
“Good morning Matt” said Nigel and buried a heavy
mace into Matt’s intestines “You’ll be delighted to know today is Anal bestial
infection day!”
“Lucky me!” Said Matt enthusiastically
Nigel helped Matt off the bed of nails and escorted
him out into the corridors of hell and they past a cell of a man who was
screaming in pain, crying and shouting for forgiveness from god.
Matt and Nigel shared a knowing look and chuckled, “He new here then?” asked Matt
Matt and Nigel shared a knowing look and chuckled, “He new here then?” asked Matt
“Not even a century!” replied Nigel and they both
laughed.
On their walk to the specialised torture chambers,
waving at other experienced members of hell, Matt said “I had the most horrible
dream last night, I was back at my old job, it was terrible, and I was so
bored”
“Yeah? Ah well, never mind, you’re here now!” Nigel
gave Matt and gentle push into the torture room and pulled over a co-worker of
hell “Frank... I’ve got an idea for a new method of torture... have we tried
boredom?”
