Angry Angel: A Super Short Story

Copyright 2020 by Nia Venus

I’m Luci, and right now I’m looking up at a viciously red sky. An angry, spicy red color like sriracha sauce.

I’m dragging my long white silk gown around this town because well…

I’m an Angel.

I’m an angel who has been kicked out of angel world, and forced to seek janitorial employment amongst devil kind.

I drag my thin sandals across the stony path. I’ve been in the devil world for all of one day and I’m starving. I’m walking around this steaming red town dripping in sweat, my wings have caught on fire at least twice. Now they’re fucking burnt at the ends. Fuckkkk.

No job. 

No prospects. 

Forever banished from the angel world. 

I swallow and take in the tall red door in front of me. This is the last house on the block. Every devil I came across today told me not to offer my cleaning services here. Do not approach the 666 address, they said. But how could I trust them? They are all devils here! 

I knock three times. The door swings open and I’m blasted with the smell of rotting eggs and sewage. I press my hand to my nose, but quickly pull it down because it smells like shit too. I’m overdue for a bath. Hopefully that doesn’t deter them from my services.

The male before me smiles, revealing yellowing fangs. I already hate his handsome red face. I study the eight foot tall red-skinned male devil. He looks about my age, maybe a few years older. He has low cut blue-black, kinky hair, and he’s wearing a red v-neck almost the same color as his flaming hot cheeto colored skin. His black sweat-shorts stand to tell me these devils are used to all of this damn heat. That makes sense. 

“Wassup.” His eyes lift up to my wings, then quickly back to my eyes. “You’ve got some nice eyes.”

When he smiles, I see dimples form in his red cheeks. My throat is hot, parched, but his smile is a pleasant distraction. How I’ve found pleasure in this horrid place is beyond me. 

Now why the hell is this devil being so nice? Dare I say charming?

I swallow as I cuff the back of my neck. “Hey, I’m looking for Mrs…”

He perks up, sticking his perky fleshy pectorals out, raising his bushy brows. “Mrs. Rice.”

“Yes,” I confirm. 

His face droops. “Yo, she actually died yesterday.” 

I cough. My wings quickly descend down my back. “Really?”

He pauses, his mouth still turned down.

“Nah.” The devil tips his thick black horns at me, with a kool-aid grin. 

“I’m just fucking with you, come in.” 

I follow behind this curious devil who apparently thinks he’s some sort of comedian. He stops briefly and taps my shoulder, making me jump like a timid rabbit. 

“You angels really are high strung, huh?” He says. 

I’d laugh if I wasn’t pissed. For one, I’m starving, but also I really don’t want this damn job. Working for devils was never in my life plan, but apparently when you break angel rules, even just once, banishment ensues.

Therefore survival is my new life plan.

I try to keep my wings still as I follow the young buff devil through the house. I’m holding on tight, careful not to drop any of my cleaning product on their furnishings.

Everything is red in this Victorian style home, except for a black furry rug in the center of the living room. How in the world they live here I’ll never know. The red is way overpowering. 

Hell, how will I work here? I’m already nauseated.

The handsome Devil palms a tufted red chair, sliding it across the tattered hardwood floor. I bite my upper lip at the sight of his long spiky black claws. “Sit here,” he says. 

I take a seat. 

He nods. “Mother will be down shortly.”

Mother? Yuck, he’s her son? What a man child. How is he 30 still living with mommy? 

I grind my teeth and go to close my eyes for a second of reprieve. I wont lie, I am sure to study his firm glutes as he saunters away. 

The thundering of clicking heels forces my eyelids to jump.

I stand when I see his devil mother. “Hello, Mrs. Rice,” I squeak.

I shoot my wings back. She’s standing with near perfect posture, her head so high I can see the entire contents of her booger infested nostrils.

“Mmph.” The devil lady scans me up and down. Her arms are crossed. Her red eyebrows, pencil thin, couldn’t be any more sharp.

She has high cheeks the size of tennis balls. She needs no contour whatsoever, unlike us fair skinned angels. Her chin shape is hard like an upside down triangle. 

She turns her nose ip in disgust. “We don’t…work with your kind. Sorry.” She turns to walk away. 

“Damn it!” I yell, dropping my mop bucket to the floor.

Like a strike of lighting, she snaps her head around. The look on her face is surprised to say the least. Her eyes widen, appearing more round. My heart starts pounding. The house goes deathly silent.

I can’t believe I just cursed. Out loud. Angels don’t do that. But screw this! I can’t get turned around again. I’m no longer accepted by the angels. I’ve gotta survive.

My stomach gurgles like there are mice hunting for cheese pellets inside of it. 

“Did you…” The Devil mom points a silver claw at me. “Just use a curse…”

“I’m sorry,” I plead. I didn’t mean…”

“Shut up, you winged fool.” Her piercing red eyes glare, analyzing me once more. 

The devil lady smiles. Suddenly her entire demeanor changes. What was once menacing is bubbly and fun. “You’re hired! Welcome angel! Let me see what you can do. Sanitize the entire house in less than an hour. Any spec of dirt left behind and you’re fired. Go.” 

Frazzled, and with hurricane armpits, I place my bucket of supplies on the counter. I put on my gloves and pull out a scrub brush ready to take to the floors. she watches me intently for a few minutes. my heart pounds. I wipe my forehead with my dress, making it filthy brown with sweat.

“Like I thought. You suck. You’re fired.” She cackles like a hyena and heads back upstairs. “Handle that son.” Her heavy spiked shoes click away. 

I grind my teeth so hard that one of them chips. A triangular piece of one of my molars falls onto my hand. Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck. 

“How the hell am I supposed to survive in this stupid world?” I whisper to myself. 

“I have an idea.”

Holy shit. Who said that? I turn around to see the handsome devil son again. 

“You scared me,” I say.

“Sorry about that,” he smiles that chipper ass grin again. I watch him lift a chiseled crimson bicep to tap his finger on his chin, thoughtfully. “How about you cut your wings, for one? Or trim them at least? Then maybe get some red clothing? You know, to blend in more?” 

The handsome devil grabs my hand. 

“Ooh, a tooth.” He picks up the tiny speckle of my tooth and lifts it to his eye level. He squints his red eyes. “Hows this happen?”

I swallow. My tongue is still throbbing because I also bit it in my fit of rage. “I…don’t know.”

He chuckles. ”Do you have an anger issue?” 

I smack my teeth, push at his firm chest and grab my tooth back. ”Anger?” I say. “No. Angels don’t get angry.” 

The words feel like slime as they escape my mouth. Sweat beads build on my forehead.

“Oh. Right.” He crosses his arms, looking chummy and devious. “Of course you don’t have anger problems,” the devil says, smiling. “You are an angel aren’t you?”

Ugh, he’s so cute. And so onto me. 

To think I spent a lifetime around angels who knew nothing about me, just to be seen clear as day in a matter of seconds by a lowly devil. I scratch my head in disbelief.

I clear my throat and look up at the red-skinned man. “So how good are you at clipping angel wings?”

He winks. ”I got you.”

Thanks for reading!

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