The Shade, Keeper of Destruction stopped outside the door of the meetinghouse adjusting his hideous cowl around his head to ensure that his features remained obscure. There had been a meeting called, in the palace courts of Hell, requiring every Shade to attend.

He brushed his cold, long fingers down his cloak smoothing away any wrinkles. He couldn’t let himself look bad in there. Once he entered that room, everything he said, every reaction he gave would be analyzed like hungry wolves looking for a weak link in their prey, waiting for a chance to pounce on the weak one and tear him to shreds. Politics was never fun. And Demon politics was even worse. He let an artful sneer besmirch his features (the only visible part of his face) as he pushed open the door and stepped into the room.

The tall, ancient, metal door that looked like it weighed quite a bit due to the size, the intimidating locks and chains that adorned it, moved noiselessly on its hinges as it swung open. He bowed slightly as was the greeting of all Shades before he made his way to his seat at the round, metal table.

It was quite a beautiful piece of work. The table was large and circular; it was as hard as steel, and glistened under the great chandelier showering sparks of light down below. The different metals of the table caught the light. Silver, iron, marble, steel, and even small streaks of gold and studded with large gemstones like: rubies, topaz, diamond, opal, teal, emerald, and a special moonbeam stone, lay embedded in fancy patterns that depicted screaming souls, and writhing spirits.

The Shade glanced approvingly at the extravagant decorations. He hadn’t been to a meeting in ten years and he hadn’t realized he’d missed the beauty of the evils of this place. He’d seen so many agonized spirits of the dead, massive amounts of torture, and he’d drunk heavily from the pain of the others, so much, that he’d taken it for granted. But none of it could be compared to such taste as this table that he was so fortunate to have a seat at. He glanced around at his fellow Shades, similarly clothed like him, in cloaks and hoods, and robes of darkness, their features obscured. The fellowship of brotherhood hung darkly in the room, poisoning anything good.

As the last stragglers entered and found their places, the doors swung shut and at an invisible cue, silence descended upon the group. Very slowly, like death, sneaking up upon an unsuspecting wretch, a Shade sitting on the tallest-backed chair rose from his seat. All the Shades, the Keeper of Destruction included, bowed their heads in acknowledgement to him the Keeper of Death, the right hand Shade, second only to Lucifer himself.

“Welcome, my brothers,” his voice was cold, raspy, and shrill at the same time. The other Shades murmured greetings back.

“Another thirty years have passed away since we all last assembled,” the Keeper of Death announced, “it is once again, time to give reports of all your business, and all that has taken place so that they may be given to the gargoyle that guards all of Hell’s records and he may sort them where they belong. I understand that there have been…” he paused and his voice got darker, despite its shrillness, “difficulties for some of you. My spies from the surface have reported to me a few disturbing pieces of information.”

At this, the Keeper of Destruction sat forward barely. His thin, white lips stretched into a hideous smile as he wondered who had dared to fall short of their assignments and missions. The consequences would be very interesting to observe and he clenched his hands under the table in delightful anticipation.

“But before we get into the pleasantries, let us get the tedious reports out of the way,” observed the keeper of Death. Turning, he gestured to the Shade immediately on his right, “Keeper of Punishment, you shall be the first to report,” he said before resuming his seat.

Immediately, and silently, almost impossible to discern, the Keeper of Punishment was on his feet without any noise to indicate his chair being pushed back or the rustle of clothes to show he’d stood. His dark hood did its job at hiding his features from the dim light of the chandelier and he opened his mouth to speak.

“I have had twenty Devils assigned to me these past thirty years. I have monitored them every week, and am proud to say that already five of them have completely taken control of their charge to the point that those G.A.s (he said the term in absolute disgust and contempt-as if he had to swallow acid) can no longer influence them. The rest of them are diligent at taking every opportunity to tempt their charges. I have sent Demons out to scout for possible allies, to keep the angels of heaven on their toes, and cause pain to those mortals who have sworn allegiance to the Dark Side but then turned their backs on us. I have brought my report,” he continued and withdrew from his robes, a thick scroll containing all the small details of what he’d said on it, and it magically drifted to the center of the table, hovered, and then vanished, placed in the archives of Hell to be sorted by the gargoyle.

As he sat, the Shade beside him, The keeper of Hatred stood, and gave a similar report. He hadn’t done as spectacular a job as the Keeper of Punishments, but he’d done a far better job than the Keeper of Pain and the Keeper of Malice. As the line proceeded onward, and The Keeper of Dread, The Keeper of Anger, The Keeper of Fear, The Keeper of Greed all made their rounds, The Keeper of Destruction got ready for his own report. Soon it was his turn.

With a graceful confidence, he rose from his chair as silently as the others and said with a cold smile, “I have dispatched twelve Devils to the surface in these last thirty years. They all send back good reports of their successes, and goals. Some of them are progressing far more slowly than could be wished, but they are all progressing. I have sent many other Demons and Spirits to help rile the angels of heaven and weaken their defenses, and to wreak havoc and panic and destruction to the world. Because of some of the natural disasters I have helped create, many have turned their backs on the idea of heaven and have embraced our King Lucifer and his ideals. I have also filled out my reports,” here he withdrew his reports and also sent them to the center. “And that is all that I have to announce.”

Once he sat down, he concentrated thoroughly on listening to everyone else’s reports. He had to know who was ahead of him, and who was failing in their tasks. He had to make sure he climbed the ladder of importance. He had to make sure that he wasn’t a victim, but a wolf to tear apart the victim that obviously was here (according to The Keeper of Death).

When the reports finally wound down, the Keeper of Death, rose dramatically from his chair once more. “Everyone’s reports seem to be in order,” he intoned, “You all seem as if you have done well, however, one of you has made a mistake. I would like an explanation for it.” Tension mounted in the room and it seemed almost electrical.

“Keeper of Destruction,” The Keeper of Death seemed to smile. Immediately the Keeper of Destruction sat up straight, confusion and sudden fear hidden beneath his cowl.

“Me?” he inquired, fighting to keep his voice expressionless.

“It appears that one of the Devils under your command is not doing his job. A certain Jang Geun Suk has not tempted his charge once, rather he helps protect her. That is treasonous. Find out the reason for this, and get him to change, or the both of you will be sorry. Very. Sorry.”

“Yes, my lord,” the Keeper of Destruction bowed his head and stood swiftly with a flourish of robes, “I will attend to it this instant.” And he swept through the door and back towards his underground mansion. He had just taken a steep fall in those council chambers, and everyone else would be eyeing him, just waiting for him to make another mistake. He gnashed his teeth furiously as he slammed through the door, and scurried along a hidden side passage which would lead him to the surface. He would figure out what was going on, and he would put an end to it. How could Jang Geun Suk betray him? It was not possible! How could he defy his master?

The Keeper of Destruction would get to the bottom of this…he had to.

There was no other choice.