There’s no place like home…
Unless, like Kaarl, you are a demon and your home is Hell…literally!
While the rest of Hell enjoys cruel games, Kaarl is looking for a new challenge. So he makes a deal with the devil himself: time in the Mortal Realm in return for human souls…
The Mortal Realm offers a taste of freedom he could never experience in Hell and Kaarl jumps at the chance to fulfil his dream. But gathering human souls comes with a cost and as more and more souls lose their way, Kaarl realises that he is creating Hell on his beloved Earth.
Now to save the Mortal Realm, Kaarl’s going to have to switch sides…
Selfish Beings
J L Morris
J L MORRIS He has worked mainly in sales, marketing and customer relations after discovering he was pretty good at talking and ill-suited to manual labour.
An avid reader, film buff and gamer, he has always loved a good story and decided to finally let his long suffering creative beast out of its cage. His first paranormal novel, ‘Selfish Beings’ is a direct result of feeding said beast and giving it a generous amount of “prowling around” money.
In his free time he enjoys arguing on the internet, avoiding anything that requires going outside for prolonged periods and preparing for the inevitable zombie apocalypse.
A huge thank you to Victoria Oundjian and the wonderful staff at Carina for this fantastic opportunity and all of their hard work.
Thanks also to Emily Ruston for your insight and saint-like patience throughout the editing process.
Last but certainly not least I would like to thank my friends and family. The time we have spent together has made me who I am and no doubt that has rubbed off on my writing. Although many of you are thousands of miles away you are never far from my thoughts.
To my mother Franchesca; without your encouragement I’d still be talking about Kaarl instead of writing about him. I owe you more than words could say or money could buy but my vocabulary is larger than my wallet. This will have to do.
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Epilogue
Chapter One: In the Beginning…
In Hell, as on Earth, the unscheduled call for a meeting of top-tier management brought with it a certain fear and confusion. Demon-Lords had spent the few precious hours after the summoning to work out what they could have possibly done wrong and how best to lay blame for those failings at someone else’s feet. The eternally damned mortals that served them sprinted between file rooms and offices as the Lords pored over reports and inventories. Almost the entire building had been a hive of furious activity up until the final minutes before the meeting.
Only one office showed no signs of movement; its black wooden doors had not even opened since the messenger delivered the summons. Mastema, Tempter of Men and Cursed Accuser, did not harbour any fears about the meeting. In the unlikely event he had made an error he knew he could shift responsibility so quickly and flawlessly it would make a human politician sit up and take notes. The Demon-Lord had instead spent the time trying to rectify his tendency to slice the ball on the drive.
The messenger that had brought news of the meeting lay in front of Mastema’s massive office window. The mortal would have been afforded a grand view of Perdition in its entire splendour, had he been able to turn his head. From Mastema’s office at the top of the tower one could view the almost endless city as well as the beginnings of the sandy plains of Perdition. Only Lucifer’s chambers sat higher than the building they were in. As it was, all the messenger could see was the white marble roof of the office and the tip of the golf tee he held between his teeth.
Mastema leant down and gingerly placed a ball on the top of it. The messenger was rigid with fear, he had already trembled once and the ball had fallen to the floor. The man remembered well the penalty for that failing. The Demon-Lord had “played it where it lay”, driving the ball with tremendous force in to the side of his head. An earthly mortal’s skull would have been demolished by the power; the damned mortal that was the messenger had a splitting headache and a golf ball permanently lodged in his temple.
Mastema kept his knees bent and arms straight, eyes on the ball as he had been taught. He let loose with all his unholy might and the ball sailed out of the window and deep into Hell. He laughed as it struck a minion two miles away square in the head. Mastema did not find the misfortune of the minor demon humorous; pleasures of such a petty nature were below a Demon-Lord. Mastema