Hell of a Deal

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Marla finds herself in a mysterious office with no recollection of how she arrived. She has an appointment with a man she's never met for employment even though she has a job. What is the secret behind this company, and the man who runs it? What does he want from her?

Age Rating:

Chapter 1

THERE WASN't anything particular about this particular Tuesday for Marla. It was just Tuesday. She went to work, however reluctantly, bit her tongue as her boss berated her over leaving in time. She pulled down her skirt and picked at her bun, taking the side of her finger into her mouth as she nibbled on her finger nail. Her legs were spread over the work toilet.

She was hiding.

It was Tuesday. She had 5 minutes of nervous squatting on the toilet before she'd inevitably have to go to work again. She opened the stall, washed her hands and took a deep breath.

It was just Tuesday. She walked out, feeling a gust of hair, and then a rush of light.

She turned her head and then that was it.

She looked around the posh office. Then down at herself. Work clothes. But this wasn't her office. The hallway was adorned with red velvet sofas. Behind the receptionist's desk were large words.


She blinked, and cocked her head glancing at the receptionist. She clacked her long nails against the keyboard, popping her gum before looking up and smiling at her guest.

"Welcome to EHLL Incorporated! Do you have an account with us?"

Marla frowned ever so slightly, offering a polite smile. "I...I don't think so."

Marla's eyes glanced down to the name plate.

Ms. Juniper.


Next to her bronze nameplate, was a bell and a sign that said in three languages, Do Not Ring Bell.

She cocked her head and chuckled nervously.

"Ms. Juniper is it?" Marla said softly.

The woman nodded.

"I...I'm sorry this may sound strange but I have no clue what possible business I could have here. I've never even been here."

Ms. Juniper's white hair seemed to shimmer as she grinned widely.

"Hm. We're here for all your employment needs. What was your name ma'am?"

"Marla," she said softly. "Marla Henshaw. But there must be a misunderstanding, because...well I have a job."

The sound of her incessant clacking gave Marla the slightest twitch in her eye. She paused, before looking up.

"I see now! You have an appointment. Please take a seat!"

"But I—" Marla protested.

Ms. Juniper wordlessly pointed to the sign on the wall.

Do not dispute the Receptionist word.

Well, with such clear signage what was she to do? Marla sat down crossing her legs. Her boss was going to fry her alive and force her to work overtime with her shriveled, burnt remains. She looked around the office once more. An employment office? The place looked more akin to a lawyers office. The intricate, expensive art work on the walls.

The floor was marble, the ceilings high. A glass chandelier floating above her head. The room was held up by Greek inspired columns. Her shabby work clothes didn't match the opulence of the room. Then again, neither did the room's purpose.

She'd been to the unemployment office and I'd never looked anything like this. It was always decrepit, uncomfortable, and reeked of desperation and fear.

This room had a slight floral scent. As if every five seconds someone spritz just the right amount of air freshener.

"Ms. Henshaw?" The receptionist called with a smile. "He'll see you now."

Marla stood hesitantly, pulling down her skirt. "Uh...who's...he?"

The receptionist motioned to another sign on the wall.

Do not ask Receptionist questions.

"Just...very convenient signage," Marla chuckled nervously, as the receptionist walked her through the corridor.

At the end of the corridor was one large door. The receptionist knocked once, and then walked away. The door opened with an audible creak. Marla paused by the door, before knocking once more.

"Uh...I'm here for my appointment?" She asked hesitantly.

A tall man stood behind the desk, standing and buttoning his stark black suit. His hair was roguishly missed and black, his skin tan and dewy. Slight stubble covered his immaculate jaw.

He offered his hand as he stepped from behind his large wooden desk.

"I've been expecting you," his voice was deep and rumbling, his smile glistening, almost blinding.

She edged back. He was the most beautiful man she'd ever laid her eyes on. He offered his hand, taking hers, and shaking it. She glanced down at the veins in his hands. Before looking up at his piercing blue eyes.

"Ms. Hensaw. Please, have a seat."

He gestured to the singular chair across from his desk. She sat down in the chair uncomfortably. She felt shabby in compared to him, to the room.

She didn't fit.

"I'm sorry. You've been expecting me but I...well I can't for the life of me recall making an appointment here."

The man just waved her concern away.

"We all get busy, don't we Ms. Henshaw? It's perfectly Understandable. It's like the world is designed to keep us busy, hm?"

He looks down at his desk. It's perfectly organized. The only thing on top is a copper name plate. She squinted but couldn't seem to make out his name.

The only thing on his desk was that name plate and a singular notepad with nothing written on it. He flipped through it anyway.

"And I'm sorry but was that Mrs, or Ms?" He glanced up a twinkle in his eyes.


He raised his thick brows. "Ah...I thought I was reading that wrong."

Marla cleared her throat. "Nope. I am...unmarried. Could you tell me what this appointment is about again?"

He closed his notepad. "Why employment of course."

Marla nodded, her stomach turning. Something was unsettling. The way she couldn't remember how she got her. How she hadn't thought to leave. How everything was perfectly placed.

And how she didn't remember setting an appointment for employment, in an employment office that hadn't asked her any questions about a job.


He smiles. "I'm Mr. Deville. I'll be handling your case personally, Ms. Henshaw. You have my complete And utter attention. My job is to place you where you belong."

He smiles softly, leaning forward. "I have to get to know you very well for that Ms. Henshaw."

She glanced down. His nameplate wasn't copper. It was gold. And now it sparkled as if the letters had been spontaneously engraved.

Mr. Deville


"I think you'll find that I am...through," he said carefully, his eyes raking over her form. "In putting you in your place. It's what we all need isn't it? Not just a job, hm? A place in the world."

Marla got the sickening feeling she never made this appointment, but worse still, that this man was more dangerous than his crooked smirk did to her panties.

Not that it would take much. She'd been too busy for a love life. At this point, she'd wet her panties for the first man who looked at her.

He felt different though. All his words seemed to have a seductive connotation.

"I think I'll stick to my current job," she stood, turning around.

"Hm. I'm afraid just isn't possible, Ms. Henshaw. Please, sit. Let's discuss your options. I'm quite sure I can...do something for you."

Marla paused, her fingers on the door knob. She closed her eyes and sighed, sitting once more.

"Alright, Mr. Deville. What have you got for me?"

He smirked. "I have everything you'll ever need."

Continue Reading Next Chapter
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