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Part 3

The Bloody Cafe sat on the riverside with splendid views of the crumbling banks and murky oily water. Once there was a singular sinister ferryman in a creaky wooden vessel taking departed souls over into the epicentre of Hell but he had been retired from service. Now there was a proper dock for pleasure boats taking sightseers down the gently bubbling waves to the very edge of oblivion where they would shield their curious eyes from the glow of a million suns as the Brim stretched through the universe like a funky sixties disco. Eternity, it turned out, was rather brightly coloured.

The three friends lounged outside the fancy gothic building under skeletal parasols that did nothing practical but looked amazingly dramatic and waited for Crispin to turn up. It was early evening and the fires billowing from the pit glowed a deeper shade of awful just to add that extra touch to the already doomladen atmosphere. Rap was indeed in his favourite dress just as Anar had feared and Rave was getting grumpier by the second as he waited impatiently for something to eat. Anar himself was feeling rather upbeat; he'd had what he hoped to be a good idea. He almost felt proud of himself – good ideas were rare for him. His intelligence wasn't quite at genius level it was true but if you needed someone who could think outside the box then well, the box may as well not even exist to his brainwaves.

“Heyyy," Crispin appeared still in those same clothes and with slightly messy hair smiling widely, “are these your friends? I just knew they'd be wacky."

Rave sat further upright, not at all happy at being described in this way as Anar quickly made introductions. Crispin's smile faltered slightly when it came to Rap; Rap left everyone a little confused. Part hippy yet part lethal killing machine, you never quite knew if he was going to slice your belly open or align your chakras. Pairing a pink satin gown with six-inch razor claws just took it to another level of bizarre.

“Wow. Ok, so I've gone from knowing not one single unusual creature to two dinosaurs and a kangaroo-"

Rave wheezed.

“Is- is he ok?" Crispin asked.

Anar frowned and his ears drooped. Great. He'd forgotten about that.

“Kangarooooooo... kanga- kangaROO!"

Rap slapped his partner on the back as he almost lost his breath with mirth. Rave banged his scaly fist on the metal table, nearly knocking the ashtray flying.

“Not that funny you daft reptile, knock it off," Anar huffed turning to the human and smiling sharply, “I'm an aardvark, actually.

“KANGAROO!"

Crispin gave an apologetic shrug. “Sorry mate, knew you were something out of the ordinary."

Rave finally calmed down and wiped his eyes, tittering to himself, “fucking brilliant. Kangaroo. I'm not gonna forget that one..."

“I'm having a Strawberry Smush," Rap said hopefully, still patting at Rave's back soothingly.

“Oh yeah. Smoothies. Sure. Strawberry Smush for you, Blackberry Blunt Force Trauma for him (when he's quite finished dying), what you having Crisp?"

“Ooh, a Smush for me too please, with chia seeds."

Anar gave a look, one that said 'of course you have to have extra crap in yours', “hmm and I'm having a Watermelon Meltdown. And a drink."

“Ha! Good one!"

He went inside to place the order and Rap turned to Crispin with a grin full of pointy teeth. “So Crispin, we would just like to thank you for taking Anar under your wing."

“What? No, no, it's the other way round, see-"

“I know what I said," Rap cut in, “he's been the most miserable sod imaginable he really has, since all that trouble he got himself into with that mortal demonology student but since you turned up at the office he's actually been smiling and joking. Its been really nice. Bit scary, but nice."

Crispin pulled his hands through his hair and almost blushed, “gosh, wow, I mean we've been having a blast really. It's a pity he's not moving up a few floors with me. If that actually happens," he added quickly, “so which department are you in?"

Rap and Rave looked at each other, “we're lizards of leisure," Rave grunted, “lizards who lunch, you could say."

“You don't... have a position?" Crispin clarified carefully.

“Oh I have a position, usually right on top of Anar's fat arse," Rave grinned.

Rap smacked at his fellow velociraptor chidingly; “behave, dear, we all know if you tried bossing him about you'd get a black eye. Again."

“I should have eaten him when I had the chance!" He sulked, folding his green scaly arms.

Crispin raised a demonic eye.

“Long story short when my Rave and Anar first met it was most definitely not love at first sight."

“Bastard punched me!" Rave spat.

“Yes dear, while your teeth were trying to sink into his jugular – I was there, remember. Well I was there in the nick of time anyway, heard you howl halfway across the clearing."

“It didn't hurt!" Rave insisted pridefully. “I was surprised that's all. Surprised!"

Rap nodded, “yes dear."

Crispin blinked, taking in the six foot of muscle that made up the velociraptor known to him as Rave; he could devour him in one gulp and probably not have to chew. Anar was certainly spunkier than he looked to have clocked this monster one.

“So no, we don't have positions. We were Anar's familiars at Holy College and we couldn't bear to see him waddle into the underworld all on his lonesome."

“Humph!"

Rap continued despite his partner's sullen outburst, “and anyway who would take care of him? He'd been living off Pot Noodles and Haribo before I came along. Of course we accompanied him through the Abyssal gate. We fit right in here, no one bats an eyelid."

“Here – drinks!" Anar plopped them down on the table before getting comfy in the rattan chair, drawing his pack of Marlboro's out of his long black leather coat and lighting one up. “My ears' been burning," he remarked, “you talking about me?" He gave a stern glare at Rap who looked innocent.

“Why'd we wanna talk about you?" Rave snapped, stealing a cigarette with lightning-fast moves.

Rap tutted, noisily. He was not an advocate for smoking but here in the underworld at least it could leave no lasting damage.

“You always talk about me. Nothing else to talk about."

“Got plenty to talk about! How about that bloody tower block-"

Anar leaned forward jabbing a clawed finger warningly, “now watch it you-"

“Drink your flipping drinks the pair of you!" Rap barked. “Our new friend doesn't want to see you two having one of your ding-dongs."

Crispin was lost, “what's a ding-dong?"

“It's not as rude as it sounds," Rap explained, “it's another word for a fight. These two are always having a go at each other. Despite my best efforts to centre them. Do you do yoga at all?"

No, Crispin did not do yoga. No, Crispin did not want to try out yoga. No, Crispin did not fancy breathing exercises neither. Poor Crispin sat for ten minutes anyway under the friendly dinosaurs instruction breathing in through his nose and out through his mouth while Anar and Rave watched with high amusement and a fair bit of relief that it wasn't them this time while puffing on their Marlboro's like delinquent twelve year olds.

“You feel better now, don't you?" Rap asked, nodding hopefully.

“Yeah, much better. Thanks Rap," Crispin replied in a 'I hope this will do and he will leave me alone now' tone.

They drank their smoothies as the sky darkened and the boats returned from the Brim to dock for the night. Crispin found his voice once more, feeling brave now he knew the dinosaurs weren't actually as scary as they looked and began retelling the tale of the stolen Millenium Bug virus and his dad's imminent demotion. “I just don't know what to do," he admitted wretchedly, “I feel like this is my time to shine; to show my dad that I'm not actually useless but truth is I don't really like conflict, I've coasted through life. Had it easy. Sorry to bring the mood down-" he added, “it's been really nice to make new friends and meet another troublemaker."

Rap patted him on the knee and made him jump, “we're glad to have you as a friend, too. It's not the best place to find yourself stuck for ten years but when you've got good company it's not so bad."

Crispin looked at Anar who had leaned back and closed his eyes, arms folded. Dozing. “Actually it's twenty years for you, isn't it?," he said, “you extended your contract. Anyway, I was hoping maybe with your influences you could help me out?"

Rave snorted, “influences?!"

Anar shot an eye open, “yeah, influences?"

The human demon was taken aback slightly, “of course, I mean if you could just have a word with your father on our behalf..."

“Oh boy!" The raptors shuffled in their seats and glanced nervously at each other.

“If he could make the Board see reason, give my dad another chance," Crispin continued earnestly.

The dinosaurs looked at their mammalian friend as though he were a bomb about to go off but he simply stretched out and yawned nonchalantly, “that's a mighty big ask," he said, “I can't make any promises," he said.

Crispin nodded, sweating, “of course. I'd owe you a big favour. I hear favours are pretty coveted Downstairs.

The dinosaurs moved their heads from the aardvark to the human and back again like they were watching a Wimbledon match.

“It's late," Anar declared, standing up and dusting down his long dark coat, “I'll catch you tomorrow. Coming, guys?"

Crispin stood up quickly too, “why don't you come back to our place for proper drinks? We've a full cocktail bar-"

“We'd love to!" The raptors cried in unison.

Anar rolled his eyes, “trust you two."

“Actually," Crispin thought aloud, “it's strange how I've never seen you around on the Ridge. Nor your car." As he lead the company to the far point hanging over the river where the gated residences had been erected for the high rollers and senior demons he missed the sight of his aardvarkian friend bribing Rave with sweets in return for his silence. The dinosaur chewed happily on Starmix throwing Rap the fried egg gummies that he didn't like. “You know," he said as he turned his key in the mahogany door, “I'd have given anything for a loyal familiar at Infernal Holy College, all I have is an imp named Blink and he was too shy to even turn up to class."

As they walked in the entrance vestibule a small brown blur hurled itself at Crispin and sat, shaking, huddled in his arms. It cried noisily and fearfully pointed down the hallway, its sharp ears drooping as it keened.

“Blink! What on earth is up with you?"

They entered the apartment proper but couldn't feel the presence of anything malevolent. Apart from themselves, of course. If they did find trouble then they had an assortment of claws and sharp teeth to make swift work of it.

Crispin turned the corner to the kitchen and nearly dropped the terrified imp, exhaling loudly as he stepped back in retreat. On the floor, hunched over a pool of spilt milk and lapping hungrily was a sparkling black panther.

“Bad Guen!" Anar scolded, brushing past and standing over the magical animal, shaking an admonishing finger, “bad cat!" he turned to his friend, “sorry, I forgot to feed him. He tends to follow me around until I do."

Crispin's face was pale and his voice a few octaves higher than usual, “how did he get in here? Is he... dangerous?"

“Ah see, Hell's security measures don't work on Guen. He pops in and out of the Astral plane as he chooses. A law to himself, really. Watch-"

The starry panther knew he was in trouble and rolled onto his back, sprawling and purring loudly. Flicking his tail he swiped a playful paw cutely.

“No fuss for you! Home! Now!" Anar ordered and in a moment he was gone. Vanished into thin air.

Crispin's jaw was almost on the floor, “I want a magical pet! How did you get a magic disappearing cat?"

Anar merely shrugged, “weird shit always happens to me, I told you."

“Can we get drinks now?" Rave asked, rubbing his skinny hands together. All those Haribo had given him a thirst.

“Oh, er, sure." Crispin dropped his imp who started clearing away the mess that Guen had left behind, darting his beady eyes around in case the monstrosity returned to torment him further.

They gathered in the lounge and admired the cream leather recliners; the dinosaurs playing with the extending footrests, popping them in and out until they squeaked while Crispin made tumblers of rum and coke filling them with ice. He gave a quizzical look to Anar who shook his head and looked rather embarrassed, “they're having fun," he sighed, “in their own unique way."

“I wanna come live with you!" Rave grinned. “Last chair I tried sitting on nearly fell flat!"

Crispin was surprised, “really?"

Rap gave his partner a poke and the big brute fell silent.

“I suppose ordering new furniture can be a hassle, filling out the paperwork and arranging delivery. If only we could simply snap our fingers, eh? All this magic around and we can't use it for ourselves. Still, it's dangerous stuff isn't it? Some people are born with it you know. Natural magic. Now that's truly terrifying – can you imagine? Just having raw magical energy in you?" Crispin rambled, unaware of his audiences held breath. “I mean, just look at them wrong and poof! You could be obliterated. Who wants another drink?"

Anar cleared his throat, “sure. I'll take another."

The dinosaurs nodded.

Crispin changed the subject and topped up the rum, getting the distinct impression that he had said something unwelcome, whatever that may have been, “dad doesn't spend much time here at the moment, he's spending every minute he can over at his office. He thinks if he can just get one of those American nuclear missiles to fire on China then he can fix his reputation and save his job." He stared down at his glass, “if he can't, if he does get demoted then I think I'm going to be stuck on Floor twenty two with you, Anar. It'll be a laugh though, right? We'll drive Alexis mad together. Hey here's a super crazy far-out thought, what if we actually did some work and got ourselves promoted?"

The dinosaurs started laughing, “you're so screwed," Rave wheezed.

Rap held up his hands, “that does sound far-fetched I have to say, sorry dear. Hard work gets you nowhere in Hell!"

His face fell, “oh, yeah, I guess so."

Anar nodded. Besides promotion was impossible for him anyway with his past shenanigans on record. Crispin was really holding out hope that he could help him and he hadn't made a fuss about it, not in front of Rap and Rave, they had no idea what was brewing between his ears. The poor human was obviously desperate and desperate people could be persuaded to do extreme things. It hadn't escaped him that this could all just be a ruse, a trap, some sort of scheme by a senior manager with a grudge to finally get Anar deleted for good but the more time he spent in Crispin's company the surer he was that he was genuine and in need. The man had come through the Abyssal gate thinking he was the shit and had had a rude awakening; much like Anar really. A fellow troublemaker and boy was there going to be trouble! He eyed the clock. “I don't suppose you can put the telly on? Who wants to be a millionaire is starting," he said, 'and we can't pick it up on our six measly channels,' he thought.

Crispin was pulled from the well of self-pity and brightened, “sure!" He flicked the remote as the music blared and began to forget his woes as he watched his three new friends sling insults at the contestants loudly as they made their way down the rum bottle. Shouting at the television certainly brought out their enthusiasm. They'd never been so animated!

The closing music started up and Crispin was now much more knowledgable on the subject of Australian soaps thanks to his aardvark demon coworker and had learnt at least three new unusual insults thanks to Rave. They stretched and shuffled out the front door slightly worse for wear after demolishing the rum and making fair progress through the vodka, thanking their host for a lovely evening and proceeded to wander off in totally the opposite direction to the one Crispin was expecting. He peered through the gloom to the gates of the dark and unlit Warlock residence and he began to wonder about all those awkward silences and negative reactions he had been receiving. A crunch of tyres on gravel took his attention and the three peculiar creatures bundled into the Ferrari, Rave folded up on the back seat grumbling loudly. What kind of guy had dinosaurs for friends? What kind of demon had a magical vanishing panther for a pet? What kind of level ten Turned sat in administration all day bumming about? The kind that he hoped against hope could achieve the impossible and save his dad from being sent into the basement for the forseeable future with the other Disgraced minions. Tomorrow was Friday and Mr. Huttgart's time was running out. He was being striked first thing during Monday's a.m. Board meeting. Word of his disgrace was already filtering out through the levels and goodness only knew what was going to be in store for Crispin come morning. He drew a ragged breath and returned inside to the safety of his bed.

The next morning Crispin sat at his desk and waited for Anar to arrive. He'd already received some dark looks and heard a few hushed whispers as he'd made his way into the office. His fears were very much coming true, even Alexis had lost his respectful air when they'd encountered one another in the corridor, a sneer all over his ugly face and a sharp reminder that he would be expected to get some work done today and not sit around chatting thank you very much. So he'd booted up his PC and tried really hard to remember how to enter the data from the archive files that he could actually read. It was slow going and the thought of having to do this for the next ten years was not a comforting one. The vellum printed in Infernal was placed on the other side of the desk where the aardvark would be sitting. He supposed he'd better ask about translating while he was here. Mind you, if he could wrap his head around Draconish then the ancient language of the Underworld shouldn't be too tricky. He spied a familiar yellow and black book cover and picked up the dog-eared copy of Learning Infernal for Dummies, flicking through and sipping his coffee.

The click of New Rock boots on the shiny floor sounded out and he lifted his head to see Anar striding over looking like he owned the place as usual, sunglasses on and shoulder bag swinging with his rhythm.

When he'd first been told he was working with the guy, he'd been warned about his grumpiness, surliness and downright bad-temperedness; “he's a right miserable bastard," Alexis had warned, “but if you catch him on a good day you'll be amazed what he can teach you." So far Anar had taught him how to get free Coke from the vending machine, how to threaten a computer into submission with a screwdriver, how to fix an error code with a swift kick and how to wield sarcasm like a weapon.

“I've already made a start on today's pile," he said as Anar sat down, his chair emitting a squeak, “got you a coffee too. Thought you'd need it after that late night and drinkies. You ok? Can you even see me with those sunglasses on? Coo-ee!" he waved a hand in front of the aardvark's funny grey face and watched his brow furrow in a scowl. He shrunk back, considering himself warned. “Hungover, huh?"

With a heavy sigh, the unusual mammal raised a hand and removed his sunglasses.

Crispin blew a low whistle at the shiner of a black eye he was sporting, “you look like you picked a fight with a brick wall, mate."

Anar pulled his mouth back in a pointy-fanged smile that contained no humour, “words getting round that you're not a cool guy to hang with," he said smoothly.

Crispin gulped.

“Don't worry, I gave them as good as I got; they're taking a nap in an industrial trash compactor. I hope they have sweet dreams when that crusher starts up."

Demons were dead, it was an irrefutable fact. Dead as doornails. Could still give them a good mangling though; render their forms unusable. Oh, the paperwork involved! Signatures in triplicate for days... actually expiring would be a mercy for them.

Crispin's mouth turned dry and he wondered if getting punched was going to turn Anar against him. He hoped not. It seemed as though everyone and everything had already got him in crosshairs.

Anar watched the once breezy human demon stoop in his chair and he pressed the power button on his PC tower with extra forcefulness. “I know what you're thinking. But I already told you kid, I hate bullies. I'm up for a scrap any time of day, they can bring it. You're my friend now for whatever that's worth. I don't think it was just some rando that had it in for me, neither, I have a gut feeling whichever Director has your dad's stolen virus disk was behind it. I do have a reputation as someone you don't fuck with after all. Ordinary fiends wouldn't dare."

“Oh crap, you think so?"

Anar nodded, pulling paperwork towards him. He spied Crispin's book, “learning Infernal huh? I just use the translation software. When it works."

“Arcane language is a kind of hobby of mine I guess. One of my chosen studies at Infernal Holy College, not that I was very good at it. It's a bit nerdy though so I keep it to myself. Found this over on the corner table."

Anar gave a hollow laugh; “I can barely cope with English. Infernal's a dead language like Latin, anyway, no-one actually uses it."

“Science people still use Latin," Crispin objected. “Anyway dead languages can be interesting. Like Draconish."

Anar's ear flicked, “yeah you mentioned that. Something about a dragon working in one of the offices?"

Not much work was getting done again. Talons-crossed Alexis wouldn't catch them chin-wagging. “That's right. He works in Contracts. Very dusty office apparently, filing cabinets crammed with old parchment; well our contracts are all on paper aren't they? Mind you it's a wonder they let a dragon near them – one hiccup and whoomf! Gone. I wonder what would happen if one caught fire?"

Anar hadn't really forgotten about the contract dragon that Crispin's dad was pally with and Anar knew only too well what would happen if his contract were to accidentally become incinerated. It was all part of his good idea. All part of a plan that he'd concocted by himself. A plan that was going swimmingly so far but was getting to the tricky part. And sooner or later Anar was going to have to tell Crispin exactly what it was he wanted to do. “Who was the arsewipe who nicked your dad's disk anyway?" A tiny flutter in his stone cold heart prayed it wasn't his own father.

Crispin tapped a pen on the desk, “Frank Matlock. Worked with my dad for a good while on the Trojan Horse project, sleazy as they come, you know the type," he pulled a face, “they nod and smile and seem nice but stab you in the back."

Anar blew air through his large nostrils, “that's all of us," he said.

“You don't seem like a backstabber," Crispin said slowly. “Though I do think you're hiding things from me. But that's ok," he added quickly raising his hands, “we're Underworld minions, can't go round trusting demons right? What would the world be coming to?"

Anar gave a thoughtful nod, “you're absolutely right, I am hiding stuff from you. I hide an awful lot from everyone. When I got dragged over the coals from the business with the mortal girl it really fucking helped that nobody really knew anything about me. I was just classed as a bit of a nuisance and put under a watchful eye. I would have been gone otherwise. Proper gone."

Crispin fidgeted, obviously wanting to know what Anar was hiding from him, desperate for some gossip or a bit of leverage. His mouth flapped.

“If we can make it through today without either of us getting into shit I'll tell you a thing or two," he offered.

The human nodded. “Seems easy enough," he agreed.

Anar raised an eye, “then you're not paying attention. You've got a Director baying for your blood, pal," he gestured to his bruised face, “and they're not mucking about."

“Why can't they just leave us alone? I don't get it-"

“Because," Anar cut in, “stealing and lying are the ways of demons, accepted and encouraged but if you're actually caught, if you're found out to be doing these things in broad daylight, it's curtains for you. Being two-faced is part and parcel of what we do. This Frank fella is pissing himself that he's going to be revealed as a thief, that's what this all boils down to. If he can keep you – us," he corrected, “quiet until Monday then all will be rosy for his sorry ass. Disgraced minions aren't listened to, no matter what your dad might say after that Board meeting he will be completely ignored."

Crispin's eyes grew wide, “so we get him to say something before the meeting! Yes?"

Anar leaned back, “words are cheap. Accusations without evidence will be seen as desperation. Your dad knows this otherwise he would have spoken up already."

“Yeah, yeah, course. Argh! I just don't know what to do now. I thought I had an idea then but you're right, can't just accuse a Director of theft without anything to back myself up with. I wonder how he's getting on with those missile codes? Oh the stress is just too much. Maybe Rap was right to give me that breathing technique..." he sat and closed his eyes, breathing in through his nose and out through his mouth steadily as Anar watched on rolling his eyes at him.