Page 63 of The Accidental Ghost

A beast with horns and tail and lizard-like feet (scales and all. Yikes) approached them with a shit-eating grin. He gave a little wave with his fingers. “Hey, Ms. Tucci. Remember me?” he taunted in a deep, almost movie-demon voice.

Ralph’s eyes flew open wide. Had she taught demons, too? Never, ever, ever again would she refer to the children who’d given her the most trouble as little demons. Never again.

He chuckled, making the walls of the light tremble and shake as he towered above them. “Juuust kidding. I wasn’t a student, but you’re gonna be my student real soon. I got a classroom set up just for you, Ms. Tucci.”

As his black eyes stared down at her, with Michael still holding her captive, she licked her lips, searching for words…but they wouldn’t come.

Demons were real, and they looked nothing like Darnell.

Squatting beside her, small flames erupting on his arms and legs, he nodded as though he understood what she was experiencing. “Speechless, right?” He waved a hand full of talons. “It’s a lot to take in. I get it.” With a sigh, he said, “So, I’m Frank. Frank the demon, and I’ll be your guide today. Please keep your hands and feet inside the vehicle, because I’m here to tell you, the ride’s long and shit happens along the way. Last time, someone lost an arm before we ever even got out of the gate. Talk about premature torture, right? I told him, ‘Listen, buddy. No limb removal till we hit the gates of Hell. Quit taking all the fun out of the element of surprise. Got that?’”

Ralph blinked, her body as weak as a newborn’s. Had she heard right? Gulping, she refused to dwell on his words and instead, focused on finding a way out of this.

Deals! Demons liked to make deals. Maybe she could strike a deal.

But before she could speak, Michael was up and on his feet, his limbs shaky, his body quivering. He patted Frank on the back. “I knew you’d come!” he said with a hopeful smile. “You got the shit, man?”

Frank planted his hands on his scaly hips and gave Michael a scathing look. “Junkies, you’re all the damn same, man. Get the hell out of my face, you useless piece of shit.” He flicked his taloned fingers under Michael’s nose to dismiss him.

His face fell, his glassy eyes going wide. “You promised. You said if I brought her to you, you’d get me the best fix ever and give me her powers so I could stay on Earth!”

Frank took a long, disgusted look at Michael, the silence eerie with nothing but the hum of the light. And then he roared with the decibels of a thousand loud speakers, “I said, get the fuck out of my face!”

With one swipe of his hand, he knocked Michael clear across the glassy floor of the light.

Ralph’s eyes went wide in horror. “Stop!” she screamed, crawling her way across the floor to her former student as he lay broken, unmoving. “Leave him alone!”

She couldn’t believe she was defending the young man who’d killed her, but Michael’s life had clearly been a living Hell. He’d gone the wrong way, taken the wrong path. Yet, she couldn’t help but feel if she’d just pushed a little harder that day, made someone listen…

The face of the child she’d once offered to help would forever be imprinted in her mind’s eye, and she couldn’t bear the ugly consequences of what his life had become.

When Ralph reached him, limp and shaking, she pulled him to her with every last bit of oomph she could summon. “Michael,” she whispered. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

But Frank had other ideas. He latched onto her arm, tearing her from Michael and hauling her upward, where the stench of his breath hit her like a porta potty at the fair on a hot July day.

“I’m so sorry,” he mimicked. “Not as sorry as you’re gonna be, Teach. Now come on. We have a date with some fire and brimstone.”

He began to yank her across the floor, while she dug in her heels. “Wait! Let’s make a deal!” she gasped.

Frank paused but only for a second. “Oh, hell no, Teach. You’re one of the most valuable coups to ever grace Hell. The fuck I’m gonna pass up a chance to impress the living shit out of the boss with a psychopomp by making a deal. Not gonna fucking happen.”

Where the words came from, Ralph had no clue, but she spat them with as much venom as possible. “Suck-up!”

That made him stop dead in his tracks, his lizard feet planted firmly on the ground. “What did you fucking call me?”

The laughter of someone insane bubbled up from her throat, spilling all over everything. “You heard me, Frank! You’re a lily-livered suck-up who needs his boss to pat him on the head and tell him what a good boy he is. Suck-up! Suck-up! Suck-up!”

His eyes went wide, his horns lit up. “You shut the fuck up!” he hollered, literally lifting her by one arm high in the air, only to bring her body back down and slam it against the shiny floor.

Not only was the light’s floor slippery, it was pretty damn hard.

And that hole to Hell was only getting brighter.

Crap.

Ralph cried out from the pain—at the exact moment the voice in her head popped in for a visit.

Frank Balantine, thirty-five. Grew up filthy rich and entitled. Frank took what he wanted, no matter the consequence, and his parents were too busy jet-setting to care.

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