Almost Unfair

I finally got a spark from the flint, and ignited the pool of oil. Well, technically the fumes it was giving off, but still.

It created a barrier between me and the Beast, which reared back and snarled at the fire. As I finally got a good look at the werewolf that killed the rest of my travelling party, it suddenly transformed into the girl we rescued that morning.

Before I could speak, she took a flying leap and used a chandelier to swing over the fire, right into my favorite getaway distraction dust.

Well, technically, silver nitrate, but still. 

Last One

She found me sitting cross legged on the floor of the kitchen, an open jar of pickled eggs in front of me.

"Hun?"

"They're rotten."

She looked at the eggs.

"Well, you don't like eggs that much, do you?"

I looked up at her, my eyes red.

"I'll go get a new pack from the store then, give me a minute."

"No, no...

Look, my grandmother made all sorts of pickled things, and jams and shit. And this was... This was the last one. The last thing I had to remember her."

"What about the house?"

"I... Fine, that too."

Sending A Message

Every spaceship that travels through Alliance spaceship is required to submit reports once a week through an Alliance comm unit, the whole system informally known as the Captain's Log system based off some ancient Terran storygroup.

The reports are usually brief, often with offensive terminology, and many believe it's a plot to track everyone.

It is true that it has an unstated purpose, but it's not to spy on unimportant traders.

But if we were to tell everyone that they were part of a giant interconnected network designed to fool an inter-dimensional AI into staying away, people would ask questions. 

Such A Prick

I walked into our home and almost didn't see the rose petals, but I luckily dropped the mail and this saw them.

It wasn't the type of apology I was expecting after our fight, when I went off on him for being a manchild and such. But it wasn't the worst way to apologise, so I put away the groceries quickly then followed the rose petals up to our bedroom.

I didn't know what I'd find, but him slowly bleeding out from dozens of thorn pricks over his arms, I probably wouldn't have imagined that, although I probably should have.

In A Heartbeat

Everyone is trying to find a way to transport goods without all that pesky paperwork and laws. A lot of effort has gone into disguising the most profitable of such goods from the various methods of detecting them.

But every so often someone hits upon a method that doesn't need such disguise. Diplomatic pouches were popular for a while, and then more recently, drone submarines.

I have a better solution. Instantaneous transportation. And before you ask, the need for a live human you don't need back is part of the powering process, and that's why I'm not going legit, ok? 

How To Find Him

He woke up, and I placed the water bowl next to his face. Once he realised his hands and arms were tied, he leant down and lapped at the water for a bit before he spoke.

"I found you!"

I laughed.

"So who was it that told you to walk into the desert and you'd find me?"

"Uh, the weapons dealer, but-"

I held out my hand, and thought for a moment.

"He's... 'you have to truly want it in your heart', right?"

"Yeah, and I did, obviously."

I laughed again.

"No, I have to decide to rescue you, actually." 

Burning Paperwork

How i died isn't important (don't bother looking it up, trust me), but what is important is what happened next, when I woke up in a professional looking office, in reds and blacks. I pulled myself up near the window, and looked out across rivers of brimstone and flocks of flying demons, intermixed with bland looking apartment blocks and theatres.

"Physical pain isn't always the most punishing aspect, so we've got a lot of different areas now, for mental and spiritual torture. Variety and all that."

I turned around and saw a femaleish demon in something resembling a business suit, although my eyes watered if I tried to focus on it.

"Ok, and what is this room then?"

"Oh, this is your office. You're in charge now."

I blinked, and not because I was trying to look at her (?) outfit.

"I'm in charge of Hell?"

"Well, not all of it, just this sector. You'll report to the Board, and judged against the other 665 sectors."

"But, why me? I'm the last person you'd choose, surely?"

She smirked.

"Like I said, we have variety now. And this is the most effective way to torture you.

And also reduce payroll, added bonus."