Samael's Sweets

“I hope you’re sure about this.” Samael nudged the trays of sweets, walking around to the front of the display case to ensure they were most aesthetically pleasing. The trays of the ugly ones were hidden beneath. He still didn’t know why he’d bothered making them.

“Have a little faith, Sam. If anyone knows what sells to humans, who better than a human?”

Samael looked at the woman. She was a head shorter than he, with no wings, no horns, and strange, fleshy feet rather than sensible hooves. Dressed in a bright blue dress that made her pale skin and blue eyes shine, her blonde hair braided into an elaborate updo. “Fine, Gwendolyn, I will trust in your judgement on this. But none of this food has any nutritional value.”

Gwen laughed. “Of course not. These are treats. Something special. And I’ve told you, you can call me Gwen.”

“When you use my proper name, I will use your preferred name.” Samael spread his wings in a great stretch before folding them with a shudder.

“Relax. It’ll be great.” Gwen walked to the front window and looked out on the black road that ran past. “We’ll get plenty of foot traffic here. The shuttle drops off just there,” she pointed, “while most of the tourist traffic will be heading right past our door to the downtown area.”

“And they’ll pass again on their way back to the shuttle,” Samael finished. Gwen had laid it all out for him many times, but with no experience to compare, he still worried how it would work.

He returned behind the counter and made sure the till was properly stocked for the third time of the morning. Turning to the small mirror on the side wall, he checked his appearance.

His jet-black hair lay smooth on his head, his black horns shining. He practiced a smile of sharp, white teeth in his deep red face. The trick, Gwen had taught him, was to not show too much fang. “Look friendly, not hungry,” she’d said.

“Do you really think we’ll see more humans?” he asked.

“Of course,” she answered. “We’re curious apes, after all. Why do you think I worked so hard to get permission to come early and help set up small businesses?”

“For the profits?”

She laughed. “That’s part of it, sure. But…mostly because I was curious.”

“What is it about this place that so fascinates you…humans?”

“I guess it’s hard to explain, since you’ve always known about the other realms. But for us, this was myth, legend. Hell, we called it, and we called you demons.

“We thought those who died after living an evil life were condemned to spend eternity here…tormented in flame while your kind, demons, tortured our souls.”

“But if you’re dead, how would…?”

“I didn’t say it made sense. Myths are just that. Imagine, then, how surprised we were when a group at Cambridge figured out how to step between dimensions…realms you call them…and they found hell.”

“But this is not hell, this is Anlakh.”

“Right, but it sure looks like our stories of hell, and you look like our stories of demons.” She motioned out the window.

“Anyway, they found hell but no tortured souls; no humans at all in fact. There was also a serious lack of fire and brimstone. In the place of what they expected, they found a highly advanced, pacifist society.”

“We are to blame for how we were perceived, perhaps,” Samael said. “Our early exploratory devices were crude, and often subjected those close to their operation to glimpses into the adjoining realm.”

“It may not have been the intention, but it sure made for good publicity…well, not good, but effective maybe.”

The clock on the wall chimed and Samael flipped on the sign an unlocked the door. The first tourist shuttle trundled past to its stop.

They watched the tourists empty to the street, phones in hand taking pictures and recording video. A few seemed perturbed that they had no connection.

Samael tapped Gwen on the shoulder. “That group the other few humans are in a hurry to get away from; why are they dressed like that?”

“Called it,” she said. “Goths. Not like the historical kind, but the kind that are into the goth musical genre.”

“They look dangerous. There won’t be trouble, will there?”

Gwen chuckled. “They wear black and leather and ‘spooky’ clothes but they’re not dangerous. No more than any other human, at least.”

She dashed behind the counter and started changing out the displays. “Get out there and welcome them in,” she said.

“What are you doing?”

“Making your first sales.” She had replaced half of the trays with the black, blood-red, and spider-web designed sweets, and cranked up the sound system playing Sisters of Mercy.

Samael stepped out the door and waved toward the goths. “Come to Samael’s for sweets. We’re open.”

“We’ll have to work on your sales pitch,” Gwen said. She stepped out past him. “Samael’s, home of infernal treats. Only the most decadent and depraved delights from the dark! Come, seekers of night, find sweet release within!”

Her spiel combined with the chorus of Lucretia My Reflection caught their attention and they filed in after Samael. One of the other tourists tapped her on the shoulder. “Do you have…regular candies?”

Gwen laughed. “Of course. That was just a little salesmanship to get the goth crowd in.” She looked at the bustle in the store, and back at the woman who had stopped her. “They’ll probably be in there a while, and I’m guessing you’re tired of them after the long shuttle ride. What’s your name?”

“Alicia.” Her deep brown hair with a few grey strands was pulled into a ponytail, showing off her olive complexion and large, brown eyes.

“Well, Alicia, my name’s Gwen. If you stop by later, on your way back to the shuttle, I’ll give you a ten-percent discount for the inconvenience.”

“Oh, thank you.” She smiled. “I didn’t expect that kind of customer service here. Then again, I didn’t really know what to expect from hell.”

“I’ve been here about six months now, helping Samael and others set up shop. I think you’ll be pleasantly surprised.” She leaned close and whispered conspiratorially, “But I think our goth friends here will be disappointed; it’s not all dark and spooky.”

They laughed, and Alicia waved her goodbye and headed toward the downtown area. Gwen put on her professional face again and entered the shop. The trays of “dark” candies were emptying fast, and fewer than half of the goths had ordered.

She ducked down behind the display case and pulled out more of the dark designs and swapped them for the nearly empty trays. Using the picked-over trays she filled out a new mixed tray for later when they were low.

Only after every member of the group had ordered and gotten their purchases, did the goths leave the store to wander toward the downtown area. Gwen patted Samael on the arm. “Looks like the first rush went well.”

“Those…goths…are the reason you had me make the ugly candies?”

“Yep. But they’re not ugly. Just…a different kind of beauty.” Gwen sighed. “I look at the landscape here, and I find it beautiful, even though it’s nothing like the green hills where I grew up. At first, I thought it was hideous, but after some time, I see the beauty in it.”

Samael nodded. “I know of those green hills. They seem so…alien and weird, but somehow right as well…at least for there.”

Gwen nodded. “Well, Samael, I think we’ll have to make more dark candies tomorrow. As far as the bright colored ones, let’s see what happens later in the day.”

“Sure, Gwen.” Samael bowed slightly. “I bow to your superior wisdom about selling to humans.”