Lawyers in Hell by Morris Janet & Morris Chris

Author:Morris, Janet & Morris, Chris [Morris, Janet]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: Perseid Publishing
Published: 2011-06-21T17:00:00+00:00

Appellate Angel

by

Edward McKeown

Arkiel, the angel, stood and tucked his wings behind his suit jacket, picked up his briefcase and left his quarters, headed for the Hall of Injustice. In hell, court was held every Sinday: there was literally no rest for the wicked, including, unfortunately, him. Arkiel was an angel sentenced to hell; he worked here. Being cast down was harsh punishment, he felt, for teaching humans forbidden knowledge, taking a woman to wife, begetting a nephil, and then, eons later, indulging in a few weeks’ dalliance with a visiting succubus. Mating with human women and teaching forbidden knowledge weren’t the worst things an angel could do. There were the minor downcast, fallen angels such as he, watchers and helpers of humanity, and then there were the great fallen angels who’d contested with the Highest…. Arkiel wasn’t all-powerful. The demonic temptress had been on earth, carrying a message when he’d chanced on her in a valley he was watching. After that, well … succubi were what they were and while Arkiel had never been a human, his animus was male. At the time it had seemed worth the risk.

Now, on another dreary Sinday, their spectacular pleasures seemed fleeting compared to his continuing punishment. He opened the door of the transients’ compound and stepped into hell proper. Before him lay Pandemonium, stretching out to the horizon. An enormous city, where all the taxi drivers were from NYC, all the trains were run by Slamtrack and the potholes had been known to eat vehicles and occupants alike. The street shimmered in the heat; moans and shrieks filled the air.

His chauffeured black limo waited for him at the curb.

Gravelog, his scaly-skinned demon driver, opened the door and Arkiel slid inside. As usual, the rehabilitated demon said little. He saved his voice for the relentless, and for him, joyful task of howling abuse at the other denizens of hell during the commute. With demonic driving, they made it in record time to the courthouse, a massive, columned, white-speckled granite edifice from whose upper floors unsuccessful litigants were often defenestrated.

Arkiel got out of the limo and walked up the front steps, nodding to the uniformed guards who stared vacantly at the damned souls queuing up for court. The officers passed him through.

“Have a hell of a day, counselor,” said one sergeant, a ghastly soul with haunted eyes who had died only days before full retirement.

Arkiel sighed. The sergeant always said that to him. A bailiff let the angel into his assigned courtroom. He took his seat and unpacked his brief at the prosecutor’s table. His paralegal was absent today, but Arkiel was well-prepared and needed no help with today’s case.

The doors swung open and Arkiel’s plans for an early lunch flew out the window as the androgynous demon, Yoko, one of hell’s highest-ranking advocates of evil, walked in. The demon wore an impeccably tailored suit and too much jewelry. It was followed by its client, an Aztec priest in his ceremonial robe of flayed human skin – in hell, the skin was his own.

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