Blessings

Prompt 9: To the well-organized mind, death is but the next great adventure. - J.K. Rowling

It happened in an instant. Venice felt himself drift in hot air as heat encased his neck, his face then his whole body. “Weren’t my fingertips freezing a minute ago? They’re always so cold.” He thought “this isn’t right”. He could smell burning flesh mixed with gunpowder. He forced his eyes to focus beyond the angry yellow flames. Realization dawned upon him just as he saw a ball of fire erupt towards his right and then everything turned black.

Weightless. He felt himself float through the air. “Is this how it feels in outer space?” No resistance. It was peaceful. He could rest for a bit, he had had a long night.

A bright white light entered his sight as he fluttered his eyes open. It danced with grace as it consumed him. It was warm. A good kind of warm like a mother’s hug after a long tiring day. The next thing he knew, he was standing at the edge of a cliff, facing the sunset.

“You are dead.” A person next to him said with a bored expression as he stared at the sunset through his black shades. He wore plain khaki shorts and a black half-sleeved V-neck T-shirt, his hands hidden inside his pockets.

Venice smiled and nodded his head, “I know.”

The person who had just informed him of his demise frowned. Strange. Not a lot of people accepted being told they’re dead that easily, and happily, for that matter.

“So you are Satan? Hades? Lucifer?” Venice asked with a questioning glance.

“That’s a first and I thought I must’ve witnessed every first century ago.” The man in the khaki shorts said. He smirked. “Satan is fine. It’s got a nice ring to it, don’t you think?”

“Sure.”

“Well, now we can skip the pleasantries and come down to business.” Satan removed his shades and placed one arm of glasses under the V dip of his neckline. Venice frowned. Apparently, red eyes were a bit too cliché to be associated with the devil.

 “You are going to Hell.”

Satan’s silver eyes gleamed, contrasting the soft golden glow of the setting sun.

“I know that’s not all you have to offer,” Venice stated with a passive expression, his face aglow from the orange streaks above.

“Seems like you know who you are then.” Venice nodded before Satan continued, “well this makes it a lot easier. You are once in a century mortal to dangle between Hell and Heaven by 0.1% which gives you a lottery ticket,”

Venice nodded in understanding. This is what he had been preparing for 4 years. All those sleepless nights planning, he knew his actions would yield consequences. He just had to make sure they were in his favor.

“Defeat me and you shall receive a direct entry into Heaven.” Satan finished.

Clouds shifted lazily across the gradient sky like horizontally overstretched cotton balls. The sun dipped behind a mountain, ready to take its leave and pass the responsibilities of the day to the faint half-moon with dark grey sports on the opposite side of the sky.

“Your scorekeeper was way too generous if you ask me. I know all the wicked things you did to earn death at such a young age.”

Something flashed in Venice’s eyes but it left as quickly as it had arrived. He maintained a face of indifference. Venice remembered every single action that had decreased his count, leading him to his death. Through a lot of trial and error and after being called a freak most of his childhood, Venice knew he was born different than everyone and he learned to use that to his advantage. He could see people’s ‘Sin Count’ on their forehead.

In his world, mortals were 100% pure when they were born. However, their count started dropping whenever they’d commit a sin. Once` it hit 0%, they’d die a situational death. Their Life Score was then analyzed by the Management Department of the Horizon; also called Libra, and then their soul was allotted Heaven or Hell based on it. Most people died a natural death before their sin count ever hit zero, but there were always Satan’s favorites like Adolf Hitler and Genghis Khan. And now Venice Azcurf’s name would be added to the history books like the former two.

“What do I defeat you in?”

Satan smiled like a child who had been offered chocolate without doing his homework.

“According to Hell-Heaven Peace Treaty, Volume 311, Article 90, I have the power of deciding any competition I see fit for this special event. However, father insisted it should be ‘doable’. Didn’t want to give false hope now, did you, kind father” Satan spoke in the air and rolled his eyes. He conveniently left out the 751 clauses under Article 90. ‘Debriefing the subject’ does not fit under the profile of Master of Evil after all.

Venice stared at Satan with raised eyebrows, his deep blue eyes mirroring the question formed by the three uneven creases on his forehead. He would do anything. He will do anything to see her again. He had to.

“Fine!” Satan blinked once and turned to Venice. His cheerful smile all gone. He shrugged and muttered something about crappy fathers before plastering a smirked on his face.

“My dear sweet Venice,” contradicting the words, Venice felt a poison lace the words he knew would decide his fate from now.

“You have to use your powers and defeat my sin count. Do this, and you shall walk to Heaven.” Venice closed his eyes and concentrated. He opened his eyes in a few seconds and gaped in horror.

Satan’s Sin Count wasn’t just visible on his forehead. Numbers covered every inch of skin visible through the summer clothing he had decided to style.