By Audrey Lambert, TIWP Student
The wind whipped my hair as I swayed back and forth, trying not to lose my balance along the rail. The ocean to my left and the freeway to my right created a contrasting song of peace and chaos. The music pumping through my headphones drowned most of the noise out but left enough space for the honking of horns. I knew I should be running, moving faster. I didn’t want to make the boss upset, but was it really worth it? I began to jump from rail to rail on either side of the track. Soon enough, my clumsiness overtook the rhythm I had and my feet slipped on the gravel. That’s when I started to run. The rocks crunching beneath my Converse gave me a sense of power and momentum. The rhythm of the waves crashing, the cars rushing by, and the music blasting in my ears, came together and created a mesmerizing symphony. I ran with all the pent up anger and tiredness I had and soon enough I was enclosed in the darkness of a graffiti-covered tunnel. I traced my hand along the left wall, searching for the small divot that would take me into another world.
As I stepped through the secret door, I pulled out my headphones. The blue and purple lights covered the room, even though we didn’t open till 3AM. I always had to be here by 4PM though. Preparing for seventy of the highest class demons and monsters was a lot of work—plus, they partied pretty hard, so we had to clean up from the crazy night before.
“Hey, Say,” I said to the tall stocky man in the corner by the speakers.
“For the last time, Fey, it’s Mr. Satan, okay.”
“Yeah, whatever,” I replied while he muttered something along the lines of ‘I should’ve just banished her to the pits of hell when she first accidentally walked in here.’
I rolled my eyes and turned to the bigger teenage guy at the D.J. table, “Hey, Vash,” I said.
He looked up and nodded to me, “Fey,” he said.
Ahh yes, Vash, a man of few words.
“You have some nacho sauce on your face,” I said tossing him a napkin off of one of the tables. He ignored the napkin, wiped his face off with his sleeve, and then proceeded to lick it off of his sleeve.
“Chop, chop, Fey, get to work,” yelled Satan.
“Right-O, Mr. Satan,” I said sarcastically.
I turned to the bar, my station. The colored bottles glittered along with the multi-colored lights. I wiped down the mahogany bar counter.
“Stations, stations,” yelled Satan, “Opening in three, two, one!” He swung the door directly to the underworld open and in poured a variety of demons and monsters. Vash pressed a button dramatically and music pounded through the club.
My first customer slithered up, “Welcome to Club Limbo,” I said, “How may I help you?”
He eyed me up and down, judging me with his bright red eyes. “So, they still allow a human to work here, eh?” he croaked out.
I opened my mouth, ready to clap back with a major burn about his horns or something, but nothing came out.
“Get lost, man, she does her job and she does it well,” said Satan, the last person I would ever expect to stand up for me.
The demon whimpered and backed away. I turned to Satan, “What was that?” I asked with a laugh.
“A thank-you would suffice,” he said as I continued to gawk at him.
“Oh come on Fey, you didn’t really think I hated you, did you?” he said.
I grinned at him and I swear I could see a hint of a blush on his face.
“Back to work,” he said.