tumblr shorts | hell in a handbasket
"Hey, psst, hey kid, c'mere."
"What?"
"Can I interest you in some," and it flourishes its cloak dramatically, "hell in a handbasket?"
The boy squints at it, unimpressed.
"Are you coming back with the water or what?" His mother calls.
"There's a demon in the yard, Ma!" He yells back.
"What does it want?"
"It's trying to sell me hell in a handbasket!"
His mother's voice gets closer as she's walking through the house. "What does it want for it?"
The boy looks back at the demon. "What do you want for it?"
"This is high-quality hell, but I'll give you a bargain," the demon starts before stopping to stare wide-eyed at the boy's mother exiting the house. "Uh, two vials of blood and um, a new sock."
The boy rolls his eyes. "You call that a bargain? I know how easy it is to stretch out a vial of blood. How can I be sure that's really high-quality hell?"
The demon splutters. "Of course it is! Poor quality hell just drips out of its basket and makes a mess. I don't want to have to repair this cloak again!"
The boy's mother joins them and inspects the basket. "Sealed with ocher and blood sap?"
"From dead pines," the demon says proudly. "Mixed it myself."
"I'll give you a half-dozen cockatrice feathers and mend your cloak with spider thread. And you can stay for dinner."
The demon wilts a little. "I really do need the blood."
"Fine, I'll bleed a couple drops into your soup," the boy says impatiently. "Is that okay, Ma?"
The mother looks the demon up and down. "A deal?"
The demon sighs. "Two drops of blood to go?"
"In the soup or not at all."
"It's a deal. Where did you get cockatrice feathers? They're so expensive these days."
The boy rolls his eyes harder and point over the hill behind the house. "We raise them."
The demon blinks at the boy. "So I could've stolen them?"
The mother snorts. "Only if you want to be the one bleeding into the soup."
"Fair enough. Here's your hell. What soup are you making?"
