A Demon in Afghanistan. Adult. Ozymedius searches for Bin Laden. (standard:action, 3312 words)
Author: Oscar A Rat	Added: Jun 25 2020	Views/Reads: 1165/852	Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
After a brief stint as a terrorist hostage in a previous story, Ozymedias the demon remembered all that talk of terrorism in the newspapers. Since it was winter in the US and being a demon from hell, he decided to go to the Mideast instead of Chicago.

After a brief stint as a terrorist hostage in a previous story,
Ozymedias the demon remembered all that talk of terrorism in the 
newspapers.  Since it was winter in the US and being a demon from hell, 
he decided to go to the Mideast instead of Chicago; figuring it should 
be pleasantly warm there and he could investigate personally. 

Ozy wasn't a very good demon.  In hell, he'd liked to help the poor
souls, rather than cause them pain.  For that misconduct, Master Satan 
temporarily banished him to earth.  Ozy's mandate here was to help 
people all he wanted.  He could also send evil souls directly to his 
master.  Since coming to earth, Ozy's bumbling around has helped some 
and damned many more.  Satan is happy with the arrangement. 

From first sight, Ozy was happy in Afghanistan.  At over a hundred
degrees in the shade and little shade, it was his kind of weather – 
though kind of chilly.  And the countryside looked pretty much like his 
native land with miles of arid desert.  Even the people seemed friendly 
compared to hell.  Of course he changed his appearance to emulate them, 
not wanting to stand out as a westerner. 

Language was no problem since in their daily rounds demons learn a
little bit of many languages -- mostly pleas for succor.   Satan 
encouraged multilingual demons, since it helped to torment souls in 
their native speech.  Little things like reminding them that the wife 
that killed them was living well with her new lover off their insurance 
had much more impact if the soul could understand you. 

Looking like a typical native male, Ozy asked around about finding Osama
Bin Laden.  Nobody seemed to know where he was.  Some walked away 
without answering or accused him of being a foreign devil.  He wondered 
how they knew?  Others said they didn't know where the guy lived.  A 
few even ran away when questioned.  Ozy had heard that Osama was the 
king of terrorists.  It was strange that nobody knew where the king 
lived. 

He found himself in a small illegal bar.  Though drinking was forbidden
in that land, there were such places. 

“You know a guy named Bin Laden?”  Ozy asked a bartender, who shook his
head, going back to washing glasses in a sink behind the bar. 

Ozymedias sat slumped over a drink, his eighth of the morning.  He was
getting a little high on the alcohol.  They didn't have much of it in 
hell.  It evaporated in the heat. 

“Hi there, handsome.  Buy a girl a drink?” 

Ozy looked over, and down, to see an attractive young lady, looking
about twelve to fifteen-years-old, standing next to him.  She was made 
up like your typical floozy.  Her face held several layers of makeup on 
top of a mostly flat-chested body dressed in colorful blouse and 
pantaloons.  Looking over at a waiting bartender, Ozy ordered,  “A 
glass of milk for the lady.” 

“I'd prefer whiskey, Ahmed.”  She appeared annoyed, climbing onto an
empty stool next to him and trying to raise her elbows to bar level, 
which looked silly in her case. 

“Milk or nothing, and my name's Ozy, not Ahmed.” 

“How 'bout whiskey in the milk then, Ozy?  That's a funny name.  Nobody
here has a name like that.  You a foreign devil?” 

“You could say that, and you're too young for whiskey.” 

“Okay ... I guess.  You wanna go to my room then, after you finish your
drink?  My name's Fatima.” 

“You look hungry.  You want something to eat?”  he asked.  She was
thinner than most hellish residents, with pipe-stem arms and skinny 
neck. 

“Sure, I guess.  You still gotta pay later though, if you want to go
home with me.” 



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