Verbal3

Again and again the pattern on the wall repeats. The hallway goes on forever, as

properly descripted, however it seems that its only a section that merely repeats

itself. I can no longer see the homely desk-lady behind me, just more and more

expansive self repeating god damn boring hallway. Honestly, I don't think it would

bother me as much if it changed in some way. I walk to the wall closest to me,

leaning the brief case against the drab wood paneling. The wall paper was a pale

wrinkly pink, almost like skin stretched imperfectly across a board. How could

anyone feel "comfortable" in a place like this? I take the note out of my pocket

and look at it again. Unpronounceable. Its not even a word, let alone anything

recognizable. Its just plain gibberish. Disgusted, I fold it up and place it

back into my jacket pocket. I shift uncomfortably in the suit. Somehow I

remember not really liking dressing for the occasion.

"You look like a bag of bones." A voice from everywhere. Startled, I get up not

really sure what to make of it. I look around, nothing but the same old hallway.

"Looks like he's got some life in him." Again, it echoes. I grab my briefcase and

continue down the hallway, ignoring the voices that clearly indicate my madness.

If only it was a different bloody color...

"My color is perfectly fine, thank you."

No. It can't be. 

"Well why not?

 ...

"You know this isn't the normal world. Anything goes!" 

 This, I do believe, is true.

Since technically there is no one here, I do a sort of turn about as I ask, "Who am

I talking to?"

"Why, me of course." This time I notice a sort of vibration, a humming when the

voice spoke.

"I'm on to you specter. Show yourself and your torture will be brief." I have no

intention of torturing anyone, but maintaining appearance is a must!

"Hahahahahahahahaha you couldn't torture a stuck pig! Not in 4 millennia has a more

lowly demon come through here! Hurry up and die of boredom, worthless pawn."

I am shocked. The passageway is mocking me. Then suddenly, an idea.

"Ha! If I am such a lowly demon, then why did they give me this special knowledge!"

Here I remove the note from my pocket, still folded. "I bet you can't even read

what it says, being a stupid passage that you are!"

"Passage! Don't mock me like some common walkway! The evil that drives me sends

Succubi in a frenzy! Show me your infernal news!" The wall behind me lets out a

sickening crack, red liquid oozing out of the wound. A newly formed eye blinks at

me grotesquely. I bring the note over to it, keeping my distance while trying

not to heave.

"What, are you stupid?! That is simply-"

I'm lying on my back on cold concrete, a billboard for a product I don't recognize

looming over me, its neon signature blinding. There's a cool breeze that carries

the sound of construction, car horns, and men shouting from below. I can smell the

pizza stands below on the dirty garbage filled streets, the thick smog filled air filling my lungs. The demon inside me grinned.