Baal, commander-in-chief of the armies of Hell and Grand Cross of the Order of the Fly, was in a particularly bad humor. He sat behind his desk of skulls studying the assignment requests submitted by countless demons under his command. This was not work he enjoyed to any extent whatsoever, but it had to be done. He needed one more demon to send to earth for his monthly quota. His boss, Beelzebub, was a stickler for efficiency and did not take procrastination kindly.

Baal had spent the last three days interviewing prospective hellspawn for missions and with only the final position left to fill, he was down to his last nerve.

Hezra, his secretary, entered his bone-encrusted office and addressed him.

"Sir, we have your final interviewee waiting."

"Who is it?"

"It's Zag, he calls himself 'The Destroyer'"

Baal looked up in shock, "Zag? That moron? That can't be right, come to think of it, I'm pretty sure I asked to see 'The Devastator'."

"No," Hezra insisted, "I'm certain you said 'The Destroyer'."

Baal slapped himself on the forehead, injuring his hand on his central horn, "It was an accident. I did not mean to summon 'The Destroyer', he couldn't damn a serial killer. He's a complete waste of evil. I can't believe he's still a field agent."

"Shall I have him leave, sir?"

Baal was about to give that instruction when he went silent in thought. A smile spread across one of his two mouths, "No, Hezra, send him in, this is my opportunity to be rid of him once and for all!"

Zag hated Hell, it was hot and stank of sulfur, the meals were terrible, and the constant din of screams from the damned played havoc with his seemingly constant migraines. He tapped the claws of his feet nervously on the marble floor as he waited to be interviewed. He was surprised that he was even being considered for an assignment, having always suspected that Baal did not like him.

He looked at the walls of the waiting room. It was covered with portraits of the great demons he had always admired. Zag often fantasized that one day his image, painted in blood like all the rest, would be exhibited here, next to his heroes.

Zag practically salivated at the possibility of returning to Earth. He loved it there, fresh air, freedom, cotton candy, all the luxuries lacking in Hell. He had not been there since 1958, when he was recalled in disgrace for inadvertently inspiring a community of atheists to embrace God. He had not considered the possibility that seeing an actual demon might make non-believers reconsider their position in respect to salvation.

Hezra re-entered the waiting room and addressed him, "Baal will see you now, you can go on in."

Zag stood, preened for a moment, swallowed hard, and entered Baal's office.

Baal barely glanced at Zag, "Take a seat."

Zag sat in front of the desk and leaned forward, "I just want to thank you for the op....."

Baal cut him off, "Yes, yes....let me be frank, I think you are a disgrace to the corps. How old are you?

"Fourteen hundred and twenty-seven years."

"And how many souls have you harvested in that time?"

"Um....I'm not sure of the exact number," Zag answered nervously.

Baal glanced at a document in front of him, "Sixty-seven and of those, thirty-eight were voided because of faulty loopholes in your contracts and another twenty-two were souls that were already damned to Hell. That leaves seven in fourteen hundred years," the demon laughed, "and even those are questionable. I see this one here where an individual sold his soul to have his nieghbor killed..."

Zag smiled, "I remember, I fulfilled that contract and harvested his soul."

"It says here that the victim in question was kicked in the head by a mule by pure accident."

"A happy accident," Zag offered.

Baal stared daggers at the ever more discouraged demon, "You are quite possibly the worst demon in all of Hell. How you remain a field agent is beyond me. You should be a mere tormentor, flaying the damned,"

Zag's heart sank. Tormentors were the lowest of the low. Their ranks were filled by the dullest and most ignorant of all demons. The idea of spending eternity grunting greetings to that squad of imbeciles was possibly the most depressing existence that Zag could imagine.

Baal continued, "however...protocol does not allow me to simply demote you without one last chance to prove yourself."

The relief Zag felt was immeasurable. He felt dizzy. "I know I can make you proud if you give me a chance, sir!"

Baal snorted, sending a stream of saliva in Zag's direction. "I doubt it, but you'll get your chance, your last chance! Fail and you will immediately be sent to the lowest level of Hell to poke, prod, and torture the damned until the end of time! Do you understand?"

"Yes sir, I won't let you down!"

Baal smiled, with both mouths this time, "I'm fairly certain you will. In any case, there is a summoning taking place in one hour, you shall appear to the summoner and will have two days to harvest a soul. Now get out of my sight!"

Zag did not say another word. He quietly left the office, trying very hard to hid the shivers running up and down his body.

Zag made his way to the temple where the travel to the earthly realm always began. There were several demons ahead of him in line. They glanced back at him and giggled in disdain. This reaction to his presence no longer bothered him. After centuries of humiliation, he no longer cared. All he thought about now was returning to Earth.

When he reached the front of the line, Zag stepped forward into the cursed circle and sat in the center of the pentagram. He closed his eyes. He could hear his summoner across the spiritual plane. The sacred words echoed through the massive temple. The room began to spin. He opened his eyes and saw the temple begin to dissolve. Then there was darkness. Slowly light returned and with it the smell of clean air. He was on Earth.