The 144,000

My name is Azel and I fucking love my job. Not many people can say that, but my
job was tailor made for me. I stand outside the ninety second house of the night
checking my little clipboard. I’ve got one hundred and forty four names and
addresses on my sheet and I know there are exactly one thousand others out there
with similar lists. I’ve got to visit all these people tonight and tonight only. Santa
Claus never had it so hard.

With my little red fountain pen I scratch number ninety two off my list and walk up
the path and knock the door. Nice little neighbourhood this. Not really warm enough
for my liking, but then where is?

a short little fat woman answers the door and crinkles her nose at me.

“Yes, can I help you?, she asks.

“ yes Mrs McClusky, sorry to bother you. Is your husband Trevor at home?”

She thinks for a moment. Maybe I should have introduced myself first, but it’s been
a long shift so far and I’m not really into the formalities anyway. She plays with a
little golden crucifix around her neck before committing anything further.

“Yes, but I’m afraid he’s asleep”.

That’s good enough for me. I push her aside and stride through the threshold. Her
protesting begins immediately, but I pay it never mind. Boy is this house cold, don’t
they ever turn on their central heating. Before I can reach the room where Trevor
McClusky should be sleeping, he comes running out. No doubt, attracted by his wife’s high pitched whining. Poor guy’s trying to get some kip and I come crashing
in. Oh well, he’ll get plenty of sleep where he’s going. I pull out my curved machete
and lop the unsuspecting guy’s head off. Another job well done.

The wife’s stopped whining now, but she’s still making a sound. it’s like a small
bleating sound from deep in her voice box. Sure she’s shocked, but I don’t have time to console her. Maybe she should clean her husband’s arterial spray off the walls
before it stains, I offer. She’s not listening.
When I get back in the van I look at my list and start the engine. Turning the heating
up high as it goes, I drive off to find number ninety three.

By the time I reach the last name on my list my cutting arm’s starting to twinge, so I give it a stretch. The name and address at the bottom of my paper look familiar. I’m
sure I’ve read it before. It’s only when I reach the neighbourhood and find the house surrounded by police cars and an open-back ambulance, that it dawned on me. I’d
already hit this house.
As I told you I love my job, but this really stinks of poor planning. Not that I’m the
one to argue with god’s master plan, but would it not have been easier to kill the
husband and his wife at the same time. I had to laugh.

Static broke on my van’s radio and a voice crackled over the air.

“Azel, what’s the hold up. All the other demons have finished. We’re just waiting for you.”

It was my boss. Not thee boss you understand, but more like a supervisor in charge of a specific area. Hell being that area and Satan being his name. There was an impatience in his voice, but you could hardly blame him. He’d been waiting a while
for this night.

“Ten - Four big buddy. Got ourselves a dilemma here sir. But I’m on it.”

The static on the radio dies abruptly. A man of few words.

watching the emergency services busy themselves around the house, I see my

mark. She’s following the zipped up body bag onto the ambulance. The heavy doors
slamming behind them. When the ambulance moves off, I follow. The police officers
around the house are busy searching the garden. They probably think I dropped the murder weapon before leaving. I don’t give up my machete that easily.

Once we’re out of sight of the police. I floor it until I’m bathed in blue and white
flashing lights. The driver is leapfrogging traffic as they pull over out of his way. They
must just like driving fast because I can’t see why they’d be rushing a headless
corpse to the hospital. Maybe a new head graft operation. Laughing again, I ram their back. shunting them forward does nothing, but alert them to my presence. They pull away from me.

“Uh - huh. Not so fast.”, I say out loud.

Pulling out until I’m running alongside the ambulance, I knock it’s rear wheels. The
effect is perfect. Not only do I put it into a skid, but I topple the fucker over. It skids down the street spraying sparks everywhere. I push the brakes and stop as it hits a
small car.

Without stopping to breath, I’m out of the van and into the back of the ambulance.
The little fat woman who lost her husband is lying bleeding from the nose and
mouth. Internal injuries could carry her away, but that would take too long. I pull out my trusty machete. She screams and tries to claw her way deeper into the ambulance. A long black bag containing a body lies underneath her. Realising she’s
lying on her headless husband she screams some more. The screaming stops when her mouth is no longer attached to her vocal chords and I’m clutching her head
by the hair; the mouth still hanging open.
Mission accomplished.

A crowd are starting to gather around the rear of the ambulance. People just can’t help themselves, but stare at grotesque spectacles like car crashes and natural
disasters. Well they’re not going to be disappointed for a little while.
Not while my boss and his son are in charge.

“The gates of heaven are closed.” a voice calls over the van radio; “Well done. Now
go and enjoy yourselves.”
As I told you I love my job, but the thing that makes it even more enjoyable - pay
day.
Machete in hand, I turn my attention on the staring crowds.