Jody in Accounting

Jody McKemp worked in an office. It was okay most of the time, except for the fact that she couldn’t smoke inside, since smoke was what Graxos the Conqueror ate.

Graxos was her indwelling daemon, and he was particular about getting his meals on time. She’d been written up twice by Nancy in HR for lighting up at her cubicle. But what could she do? It was her beloved’s command.

Her mother had always said only bad girls smoked, naughty girls who did other naughty things. Jody had supposed she was right. But that was before she’d had to strangle her mother with the telephone cord.

Before the fire at the Applebee’s and all the signs and portents it wrought.

Before she met the agent of the damned that was her neighbor Frank, with his potbelly that held a thousand snakes.

Yes. She was bridegroom and mother to the Bringer of Death, and one day Nancy in HR would suck his fiery cock and beg for her sad little soul. And yes, Jody would watch and laugh.

But until then, she would smile at the bitch. Wait for a sign.

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