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Disclaimer:

This is a work of fiction and any resemblance to real people or events is unintentional. Transgender themes and other mature themes are included within. If you would be offended by these, please don’t continue! I, the author, reserve the right repost this work As always, I am very aware of the wonderful group of proofers that take my rough-hewn idea and sand it smooth, turning it into a readable story. Thanks to Jamie Lou, and as always to Paula.

A Christmas Visit

by

grover

The early winter storm raged, slashing and tearing with icy blades at the weary Christmas decorations along the street vainly trying shine though the wintery onslaught. Ice glazed the poorly heated apartment windows erasing all signs of the holiday season as the storm howled.

Oblivious to the ice and snow outside, a tall poorly dressed young man stood reading from an old worn book with a fierce concentration. His poor posture and ill-kept manners were at odds with how carefully he pronouned each word of the ancient text. As he spoke the final syllable the power released from the mystical summoning spell echoed in the small room. It rang with a surge of magical energies that ignited the wards he'd laid down earlier in salt with a brilliant flare that shined forth into the cold forbidding night with a baleful light.

Shivering in the ill heated room, Godfrey ignored the chill and the blizzard outside the thin walls. Finally after all these years he would achieve his most heartfelt desires and dreams. The smokey stench of brimstone filled the drafty single room. The wards’ blinding glare slowly faded revealing within the pentagram a rather clichéd demon.

Well, almost… It was most emphatically male and sported red skin, forked tail, bat wings as well as the traditional cloven hoofs. But strangely rather than horns of a ram it had antlers any stag would be proud of. And it was reclining in a uncomfortable, worn looking chair with a pair of reading glasses perched upon its snout reading a book held in his paws.

Godfrey waited a few moments but finally impatiently spoke up, “Excuse me, but isn't this where you threaten me and demand to know why I summoned you?”

Looking up from his book across the top of his glasses at Godfrey, the demon sighed and carefully marked his page as to not damage it with its razor sharp claws. “I was getting to a good part.” Slowly shaking his horned head, “Happens every single damn time.” He muttered sadly, “Well that's un-life in hell.”

Standing, the demon was an impressive sight, rippling with muscles and its antlers and bat wings scraping the eight-foot ceiling. That is if you ignored him awkwardly teetering about on his cloven hoofs. He had to use the aged, battered recliner to help him balance.

“I suppose I'm to grant you a wish in exchange for your mortal soul, right?” the Demon asked resting his book in his chair and placing his glasses into a passing cloud of hellish gases wafting around him.

“Yes!” Godfrey replied excitedly. “I want to be a young, beautiful, sexy woman, with loads of money! Here is the contract I wrote out giving all the exact details,” holding out the thick stack of papers.

“Hold on there buddy!” the demon said looking down at the actively blazing wards while tapping a hoof. “You break your wards and there'll be hell to pay.”

Abashed, Godfrey blushed, knowing if the pentagram were broken the Demon would be free to do him harm.

Rolling his cat-slitted eyes at Godfrey's clumsiness the demon asked, “Are sure you want this? I mean life as a woman sucks. Just look at Anna Nicole: beautiful, rich, I mean she had it all! Look at what happened to her, very sad.”

Godfrey's eyes widened. “She went to hell?”

Holding up his paws in denial, the demon answered, “I can not confirm or deny the final destination of any soul. Privacy laws and agreements even in Heaven and Hell don't you know. Besides why would you want to go though menses, childbirth, menopause and all that other icky stuff? You're a guy! You've got it made. Low maintenance, no responsibilities wham, bam, thank you ma'am! It's Paradise!”

Godfrey, violently shaking his head, disagreed. “No, it's not! From my earliest memories, I've always felt more like a girl than a boy. Growing up was no fun at all. The girls wouldn't play with me because I was a boy and the boys didn't want to have anything to do with someone as girlish as me. Even now it's the same. I've tried to be who everyone tells me to be, but I can't! I have to be who I really am! Please you have to help me!”

“Whoa there buddy,!” the demon said holding up his paws. “This is a demon you're talking to here. We don't do the help thing.” He said making flaming ditto marks in the air with his claws.

The Demon expelled a small snort of flames. “Okay, let me get this straight. You want to become a woman because being a guy is just like being in hell?”

“Yes, yes! That’s it exactly!” Godfrey nodded excitedly.

Rubbing the bridge of his snout the demon sighed, “Houston we have a problem.”

Godfrey, confused shook his head. “Problem? I summoned you. I get my wish. You get my soul in exchange. What's the problem?”

“Okay let me break it down for you. Selling your soul to a demonic presence, me, means that after you die you have VIP tickets to the front of the line to the Big Inferno. Hell isn't just about being burned alive; that stuff is all allegory. Hell means whatever events and or conditions torment you the most, you suffer for all eternity. You get the picture?”

Godfrey blinked a couple of times. “You mean I get my wish, but after I die I experience whatever causes me the most pain?”

The Demon nodded. “Yeah. And if being a guy is what causes you the most torment...”

Godfrey leaned on the shabby wall in shock. “Oh crap! For all eternity?”

“Or forever. Which ever lasts the longer.”

Shaking his head, “I don't want that! What am I going to do?”

The demon went to scratch his head but stuck himself on one of his own horns, “Ow!”

“I hear surgeons in Thailand do good work, if you know what I mean. Your other choice would be to tough out the next fifty, sixty years and wait for judgment at the Gates.”

Godfrey slumped down by the wall and began to cry.

“Oh for ..., don't CRY!” Looking upwards exasperated the demon asked, “What did I do to deserve this? NO!, don't answer that!”

Agitated the Demon tottered within the wards. Causing himself minor wounds with his own claws while trying to drown out Godfrey's crying and tears. “Can't you stop that crying? You're driving me nuts here!”

Wiping at his tears Godfrey sobbed, “It's hopeless! I thought I had found a solution and now you tell me the cure is worse than the aliment.”

Pulling a hankie from a small cloud of brimstone he said, “I'm a demon. Were you maybe expecting good news? Buddy, Kid, just let this whole thing go. I'll tell my supervisor there was a technicality and I had to let you go. This will never get to your permanent records. How's that? We'll just call this a visit. All you have to do is end the spell. I get to go back to my book and you don't spend all of eternity as a guy. Alright? ” he asked dabbing at the ichor running down its face.

Godfrey standing up demanded, “NO! You will help me! I've learned enough magic to summon you. Teach me the transformation spell and I'll use it myself.”

Taking care of its last wound, it flicked the hankie into the air where it was consumed in short-lived ball of fire. “Kid” the demon sighed, “I can't do that in any reasonable length of time short enough for my supervisor to buy the “technicality” angle. The longer you keep me here the more danger you're in from having “consorting with demonic agencies” hitting the Big Book. Please Kid, let this go. Alright?”

Dejected, his last hope dashed, Godfrey hung his head and gathered up the ancient text. Reading the old words until the wards blazed bright once more he fought his tears. As they died the demon was gone leaving only an odor of brimstone behind.

He'd hoped so much that this would be his answer. After putting out the banks of candles he poured himself a drink. With the wind-driven ice and snow striking the windows like a snare drum, he downed the drink in a single burning gulp.

The demon settled back into his creaky, uncomfortable recliner, pulled out its glasses and looked for the page he’d marked. Just as he found it, a swirl of sulfurous fumes enveloped him signifying he was being summoned... again.

He'd waited for this book for months and Hell being hell they always got their copies last. Now he was at the climatic fight scene and twice he'd been summoned. “Now what?” he grumbled.

However to his surprise, he did not appear in front of his supervisor or surrounded by a pentagram. Looking about it took him a moment to recognize Purgatory. It was as close to the GATES one such as he could venture and even then, he couldn't stay long.

“I want to thank you for what you did. You didn't have to and I must admit I'm curious as to why,” said a melodious voice behind him.

Twisting around and finally having to stand by his chair to see, the demon half-shielded his eyes, against the shining angel standing there. “Oh yeah I'm a real good Samaritan alright. Speaking of which, you have a hell of a way of showing your appreciation. I'm sure my bosses are just going to love this little pow-wow we're having. Thanks a lot,” he snorted.

Smiling and glowing even brighter the angel replied, “This is off the record. What you did for Godfrey prevented his damnation. In exchange the front office is willing to bend the rules. Call it a visit if you will. The question still stands. Why did you go out of your way to help him?”

Taking a longing look back at his book the demon sighed, “Don't play dumb here sister. You know exactly how and why I ended up taking the “LOW” road. I got handed that summons precisely because of the nature of my sin. It was meant to rub salt into that wound. The Kid isn't a bad sort. He just has his judgment a little twisted because he's hurting that's all. That’s something I know all too much about.

“So maybe I could've let him stumble over his own wards or let him make a bad decision based on not thinking things though. Either one would've been easy and I could've yanked him straight down 666 flights of stairs. I didn't. And if my or your boss has a problem with that, tough. This was supposed to make me hurt and if I catch hell because of spitting in eye of my tormentors, so be it.”

The Angel softly objected, “But you didn't damn him, even when all you had to do was nothing.”

His tail lashed as the demon replied, “Yeah, so he gets another chance, but that doesn't mean squat. Too many hurting like him take the other way out. I gave him the chance I didn't have. If only I'd known what I know now…”

Bowing her head in remorse the Angel said, “Freewill is a double-edged sword. It gives you the opportunity to succeed, but also the chance to fail. The difference is that forgiveness is always there for those who have the strength to ask for it.” Looking up she met his eyes.

“No, not for me. Remember I'm damned for taking a life?” He shook his antlered head slowly.

“Will you come with me?” she asked, extending a graceful hand.

Blinking in surprise while glancing at his own black razer tipped claws, “Go with you? Where? This is Purgatory. There are the escalators up and the express elevators going all the way down.”

She just smiled and held out her other hand. “Exactly.”

“Lady, you are nuts! You think it's that easy? Just walk away? My boss is the possessive type you know! I've been damned for my sins! There isn't any redemption for such as me,” he finished sadly.

“Sometimes rules are made to be amended. You say you were being defiant, but you can't hide that you cared about what happened to Godfrey. You cared enough to risk even more attention from your tormentors. That means something. Besides, it's almost Christmas and as I said before the front office is willing to bend the rules. You'll have to spend some time here in Purgatory, but you will lose those,” the Angel replied gesturing to his wings and horns.

With a gentle smile she reached out to him once more.
This time he took her hands.

He steadied himself on his hoofs; they turned and walked away together as the mists closed about them.

Alone in the mist, the battered recliner sat with the open book with its often-nicked pages resting on the frayed arm. Just visible under the opened cover was a empty prescription sleeping pill medicine bottle half stuffed under the thin cushion. Abruptly the chair erupted into a ball of flames and was no more.

***

Godfrey had pushed his sofa back to where just a few hours ago magic had burned. He was unable to sleep because of the storm outside and his own sad disappointment with the night's events. Curling up with a blanket, he was watching the only station his TV could get with this early winter storm causing problems even with the cable.

Well at least the demon had gotten his drafty apartment toasty warm, even if it did stink like hell. Pouring the last of the liquor into his glass, he saluted George Bailey in “It's a Wonderful Life.” At least he had that kooky town of characters to help him when everything looked its worst.

What did Godfrey have? The wrong body, a stack of magic books that could get him damned for eternity, and an apartment a month behind on the rent. Well, maybe he was overstating things a little. Ever since he'd found that Web site with this list of books, he'd pretty much ignored everything, parents and friends included, for a chance to achieve his so longed-for dream.

Tomorrow he'd call home and see about visiting for the holidays. The movie was winding down to its end. George's daughter Zuzu was saying “Every time a bell rings an angel get his wings.”

Just then Godfrey heard an odd chiming. Turning down his set, he couldn't figure out just what it was or where it was coming from with noise from the blizzard outside. Then just as unexpected, it ended. The movie ended and half drunk Godfrey turned off the set. Whatever that chiming had been it definitely hadn't been a bell ringing. As sleep claimed him he thought, ”Nope, no angels had gotten any wings around here tonight.”

Happy Holidays!

The End.