I pushed open the apartment door and frowned down at the empty bags of garbage against the wall. Carl was sprawled on the couch, his ratty green blanket halfheartedly lain across his body. His PS4 controller was discarded on the secondhand coffee table, Genshin Impact burning a hole in our utility budget. Next to the controller was a half-eaten meatball sub from Subway. My bottle of ranch dressing was next to it. Praying it hadn’t been left out too long I took it to the fridge. The chart on the fridge said it was Carl’s turn to do the dishes. I looked sadly at the dishes slowly going rancid in the sink.

  "Yo, Carl. You said you'd take the trash out today.” I called over. Carl didn’t stir. I sighed and shook my head. I walked over to the wall and picked up the trash bags and carried them back out, and down the stairs. The dumpster was around the side of the complex, and it had snowed last night. Not much, but enough to be unfun. I stopped along the way to grab the mail- something Carl had volunteered to make his daily job. I saw the FINAL NOTICE letter and sighed. I thought I was going to have enough to cover the utilities but maybe it hadn’t covered the late fees.

  I trudged upstairs, feeling defeated. My job wasn’t the worst, I knew people who killed themselves working in warehouses or construction, but the rigors and monotony of retail left me sore and weary. I opened the door and went inside again. Carl had rolled over a bit but nothing else. I walked down the hall to my room, depositing Carl’s mail at his door. I went into my room, closing the door despondently. It was time to see if I had enough to pay the utilities again. I sat down at my laptop and dropped the mail on my desk, pointedly ignoring the other bills there.

  I pulled my weight as best I could. Money was tight and I had student loans to pay. My degree, a history degree, was useful for bar trivia and little more. With rent going up and utilities growing more exorbitant, money stopped being tight and was simply not enough. I finally waved the white flag on living on my own and found a roommate. I hoped that the split rent, utilities, etc would let me keep afloat, or maybe even work on my savings. Unfortunately, Carl was not the roommate for that aspiration. His half of the rent was paid by his family. Otherwise, his money came from inconsistent work doing drawings online. He wasn’t bad at drawing anime girls with impossible figures and aroused expressions, but the market wasn’t exactly empty of those sorts. He also wasn’ the most fervent in searching for work. So I ended up not just covering my half, but constantly “loaning” the other half by paying the entire bill. I knew I needed to get out, but the idea of paying for the security deposit, the first and last month rent, and the time and effort cost of moving out just seemed too daunting.

  Like I said, I just didn’t have the energy.

  I logged into the utilities website, and sure enough, the notice there was apparently because I hadn’t covered all the fees. It was some kind of awful racket where I could pay my entire utility bill but end up owing because I hadn’t paid enough to cover all the fees for not paying on time. As I checked the amount I was paying (highway robbery), I noticed a checkbox for hardship. Why not? This seemed like hardship. I clicked the checkbox and then submitted.

  Immediately my browser began to redirect to something called Wayward Souls. Probably a fitting name. The site loaded with a strange red and black motif. I wasn’t expecting that, I was thinking it’d have some kind of holiday motif- Christmas was just around the corner. This looked sinister. Was that the best way to attract people in need? I had an adblocker so I wasn’t overly concerned about what the website had to offer.

  It loaded a simple form. I put in basic contact information, and at the bottom was a disclosure checkbox for allowing me to be visited by an agent, to vet my living situation. I wasn’t huge on people coming to visit- it meant I’d have to clean up Carl’s messes, but I checked it. It was offering up to $500 in money for covering utilities. That would be such a boon for me. Maybe Carl wouldn’t have to know.

  I checked the box, clicked submit, and went about juggling my tiny bank account and the pile of letters on my desk.

  “Yo, door,” Carl yelled, shaking me out of my gloom. I realized there was a knock at the door. Carl of course didn’t answer it. I got to my feet and went to the front door of the apartment, opening it.

  The woman there was stunning. Her dark navy suit was pressed and creased immaculately, Her white blouse just showing below her neck. The suit, though dark, failed to disguise her feminine figure. Her waist, already slim, was emphasized by the roundness of the woman’s hips, hugged tightly by her dark skirt. Her hair was short, about ear-length and very dark brown, framing a face with Asian features. Those were further accentuated with light makeup, deftly placed. Slightly tilted eyes regarded me initially without feeling but her lips split in a warm smile.

  “Hello, I’m here representing Wayward Souls. My name is Danielle. Are you Jeremy Owens?” Her smile was almost too inviting as she shook my hand. I nodded assent to her question. “Good, I’m just here for a little paperwork. Do you mind if I come in? It won’t take much of your time.”

  “Uh yeah, sure.” I gestured at the small table with an embarrassing number of discarded items. Old mail, fast food bags, one of Carl’s bath towels (how?), and a pack of lightbulbs made me regret the gesture.

  Seemingly unbothered, Danielle sat at the table. She crossed her legs and set a folder down on the table, deftly avoiding touching any of the miscellaneous items on the table. She placidly folded her hands in her lap, looking at me expectantly. I sat down, trying not to look wholly abashed about the table.

  "Firstly, Mr. Owens, I must apologize for slightly misleading you." Danielle's smile didn't waver. I frowned at that. She continued. "You will receive the five hundred as indicated, but that’s not the real reason for my visit. Wayward Souls is not only about helping those in need, but also about finding those with the potential to do and be more. Hold on, your friend keeps staring at my tits.”

  My mouth opened in slight horror. Carl was, in fact, watching in slight fascination, but his gaze snapped to mine as soon as Danielle stood up. She slowly approached him, her hips swaying. Even my gaze was drawn. She reached up, her fingers delicately undoing the buttons on her jacket. The suit slid from her shoulders, showing the white sleeveless blouse beneath. As the suit jacket puddled at the floor, she leaned down toward Carl. His eyes were bright, expectant. She parted her lips slightly, leaning in, and kissed my gross ass roommate on the mouth. She withdrew, and Carl was sound asleep.

  Danielle turned and strode back. She picked up her suit jacket, hit it a few times to smooth it out, and then threw it back on. She sat back in her seat, smoothed her skirt once, and said, “Now, where were we?”

  “What the fuck was that?” I asked, in disbelief. “You can just kiss people to sleep? Are you some kind of succubus or something?”

  The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

  “No, merely an emissary,” Danielle responded nonchalantly. “But it is a good guess. Wayward Souls is all about finding those who would make the best lieutenants for Hell, in its constant war against Heaven. You were identified as a person of interest, so we made it possible to reach you through your utility company. I must apologize again, you were technically current on your utility bill until we added the additional fees. "

  I knew I wasn't processing this properly when the first question out of my mouth was “Couldn’t you have just called?” What was she talking about? Heaven and Hell? Was she insane? But I looked over at Carl’s dozing figure. People also can’t just normally knock someone out with a kiss. I started to go from confused to worried. What if she was telling the truth?

  “Wayward Souls is not allowed to directly reach out. There are certain rules that we must abide by. You must elect to invite us in of your own volition, we cannot impose ourselves upon you at all. It had to be you who clicked on the checkbox and entered your information on the website. It had to be you who invited me in. All your choices. Does that help?” Danielle continued to smile, as if nothing she had said was out of place.

  I felt confused and very, very small. “But you charged me extra! You drove me to do it!”

  Danielle smirked “The Devil made you do it?” She held up a placating hand. “But not to dally in humor, it is through our mortals that we can create situations that might… facilitate our meetings. Besides, you haven’t agreed to do anything, nor have we forced you to. You could ask me to leave right now and I would comply.” Danielle waited. The moment stretched, her deep brown eyes uncomfortably locked on my own.

  “Well I should,” I managed. “I mean, Hell is… well it’s the bad place you know? I’m not a bad person.”

  Danielle nodded as soon as I started talking. “Of course you’re not a bad person. There are two kinds of people who go to Hell, and neither are bad. There are those too weak to not give in to their desires, and there are those who know where true power can be had. Wayward Souls is simply identifying you as one of the latter. If you are afraid of being the former, then let me know, and our business here can be concluded.”

  “What IS our business? You’re giving me money for my utility bill,” I said, almost hysterically. “Can’t you just give me the $500 and do a walkaround of my apartment? Check off a few boxes, and be done?”

  “Yes we could,” Danielle said, her lips slightly pursed in disappointment. “But is that all you want? Don’t you want more than this life where a small fee upends you so dramatically? Wouldn’t you like to do more than live with-” she gestured at Carl “this kind of company? You should be keeping company with kings, not Carls.”

  I hadn’t told her Carl’s name. She seemed to know everything about me. It seemed completely impossible that she was telling the truth. But everything, from the website, to Carl’s sleeping, to the woman in front of me, seemed to lend credence to her motive. And maybe, just maybe, I actually did want out. By any means possible. I swallowed nervously. “Let’s say I’m okay with this.” Danielle nodded. “What am I doing?”

  Danielle’s face bloomed into a radiant grin. “Excellent! As an aspiring lieutenant of Hell, your tasks will be manyfold. You will be required to claim souls for our cause. You will use these souls here on the mortal plane to wage a proxy war against Heaven. Similarly, some of those souls will be able to be put to more direct work- warring against the angels on the plains of Gehenna. You of course will supervise both. You will start to create a foothold here in the mortal world, to better work from. It should be exhilarating, enriching work. And with it will come power and control beyond your wildest imaginings. It will at least beat retail work, for certain.”

  I licked my lips nervously. “You think I can? I’m just a normal guy. Angels and demons and fighting in Hell? I’d die in a second.”

  “Not to worry! As you progress as a lieutenant, Hell will bestow boons upon you to make your job easier and protect you from the forces arrayed against you. You will have to earn them, but that's how power works." She smoothed out her folder. "Now I must ask if you wish to continue." Danielle withdrew a single sheet of paper. She slid it over.

  I was expecting some byzantine tome of legalese. Instead it was simply a rather straightforward request that I would render aid as requested to Hell. I looked up a bit questioningly. "Isn't Hell known for its contracts? This seems incredibly vague."

  The emissary nodded along. "It is. Wayward Souls identified that long specific contracts often created an antagonistic rapport with our prospective lieutenants. Instead, a simple contract with flexible boundaries leads to a more robust relationship. As you grow, you can define what that relationship looks like. With time, Hell can establish its wants and needs without contract clauses. It's nebulous, but has been wildly successful in the field. I just need your signature and blood for my Implement."

  “Implement? My blood?” I knew it was a contract with Hell, but that sort of talk still made me nervous.

  Danielle withdrew a jet black knife from the folder- it definitely could not have comfortably fit there, especially with how flat the folder looked. “This is my Implement, a knife given to me by Hell in order to bind souls through blood. When someone freely parts with control of their soul, they must transfer it. This transfer is most easily done by vocalized intent and bleeding upon an Implement. There are other ways, like contracts sealed in blood, but this blade works just fine. Please sign here.'' Danielle pointed at the signature line on the contract.

  I took a deep breath. “So sign here and prick my thumb or something?” I looked up at Danielle, unsure.

  Danielle nodded. “That would suffice, yes.” She proffered a pen.

  I took it. My hand shook. Danielle pretended not to notice. I took a deep breath, blew it out. I could ask questions forever, but I was only delaying things. I signed the sheet with a hasty scribble, trying not to linger. I then looked up at Danielle. “The… blood? The Implement?” I reached for the Implement. Danielle watched placidly. I grabbed the knife, steeling myself, and placed it against the pad of my thumb. The point drew blood easily and I sucked a little air through my teeth. I watched as the blood ran down the edge. Suddenly I felt a strange tugging at the wound, and the wound flowed, blood pouring out along the blade. None of it dripped free though, all soaked into the black.

  “The contract is sealed,” Danielle said, almost chipper. She withdrew a second blade from her folder. “This is your Implement, Lieutenant. Keep it near you and safe- it is the source of all your ability to come. Your first task as a Lieutenant is to procure that dreg’s soul.” She gestured at Carl, still snoozing. “Remember, a soul must be freely given. A soul given in torture is… tainted. Unusable for most things. Even a lowly one such as Carl is more useful willingly given. The truly talented lieutenant is not one who coerces a lot of souls, but one who retrieves a few, willingly given. Of course the exceptionally gifted can get quantity and quality, but let us start by aiming low. Carl.” Danielle stood up, brushing her skirt.

  “Wait, do you have any advice? How to do it?” I asked.

  Danielle tilted her head to one side. “You must figure that out on your own. If you can’t influence someone you know as well as your own roommate, then perhaps Wayward Souls was wrong about you. You do not want to disappoint us. I'll be in touch." She dropped a little bundle of twenties on the table, gave a little wave, and was out the door. I was all alone at the table.

  Carl awoke with a snort. "Dude, how long have I been out?"

  "Not long enough," I muttered. I turned to Carl. “Hey Carl, can I have your soul?”

  “What the fuck? Dude, no, stop being weird,” Carl said. “Who was at the door?” He picked up his PS4 controller and started playing Genshin again.

  “Just someone here about the utilities.” I left the living room and went back to my bedroom, holding my Implement at my side so Carl didn’t see the thing.

  After a long night ruminating over my Implement, I thought I had a plan.