We’ve all had our fair share terrible customer service lol

“What do you mean the bellboy just said no?!” An aggravated damned soul yelled over the phone to the imp receptionist.

“Look sir, we have a strong employees first policy here and-“ The surprisingly tired imp plainly replied.

“Oh bullshit! I’m literally at the top floor of this shoddy hotel! If it’s anyone who needs service it should be me!” The damned soul yelled even louder.

“Sir there’s no need to-“ The imp attempted to calmly answer.

“You know what, I wanna talk to your boss!”

Behind the phone the imp’s face grew into a twisted smile. They could not wait to not have to get any more calls from this prick anymore! The imp cleared its throat and put on the tired voice once again and responded.

“It’s likely gonna take a while because the boss is a busy man but I’ll gladly put you in line.”

“Wait! Where the hell am I in the waiting list?” The still agitated soul impatiently asked.

“Let me see… You are at…” The imp responded while holding onto the ‘t’ to prolong the anticipation.

“Ah, There you are! You’re going to be on the 789th spot in the waiting list! That’ll likely be an hour or two of waiting. Welp, bye-bye now!” The imp quickly revealed not letting the angry soul interfere.

“Wha-? Hey!” The furious soul yelled at the old landline phone, only getting low quality hold music in return.

The soul simply groaned and put the phone on speaker so he could hear when he was taken off hold. He was not going to be waiting in customer support hell again.

Rubbing his temple the soul moved over to the silently humming fridge and opened the door.

“Oh fuck you too.” He sighed. All of the beer he liked was out and that bellboy had his damn restock. There was a single glass bottle the soul had for emergencies only (emergencies like now)

“Fuckin’ A… Am I really gonna do this?” He asked to no one. Cautiously he raised the lip of the bottle to his mouth and

The flushing of the bile down the toilet bowl gave the soul a stark reminder to why he never drank any hard liquor.

While still hunched over the toilet, the hold music constantly mocking him, the damned soul heard a new sound hit his ears. But where was it coming from?

Was it in the kitchen? No it only got quieter and was replaced with the humming of the refrigerator.

Maybe the TV was on? But that couldn’t be possible, it had been broken for a while now. The hotel said it was something about rats chewing through wires and they’d be going around room to room fixing them before next year. They said that in 2021.

Could it be the lounge chair? That old chair always did make a squeaking noise when the toilet was flushed. Or was that the old table he got rid-

That’s when it was finally clear where it was coming from. It was coming through the wall! Specifically, the only other ‘luxury suite’ on this floor.

It was hard to exactly figure out what the sound was, it was only when a loud moan leaked through the wall was it clear what had cause the squeaking.

“Great. Just great.” The soul sighed. This asshole was always doing something to piss him off when he was dealing with stressful shit. Maybe the liquor wasn’t the worst thing in the glorified Saw trap.

The soul slouched into the lounge chair and thought of why he’d even said anything. Maybe he should’ve just kept his mouth shut and let The Devil choose his torture for him. Or maybe he just needed a nap.

The tired soul let the hold music fill his ears with corporate lullabies. He let his eyes close and imagine punching the asshole on the other side of the wall straight in the nuts. He let his body finally surrender to the liquor’s effects on his energy, and-

“Mr. Jackson Marr are you there?” A deep, harsh but kind voice called out through the terrible speakers on the landline’s body.

“Y-Yes! Th-That’s me!” The soul scurried to the phone making sure every word he said was heard.

“The receptionist told me you wanted to file a complaint, am I correct?” The voice, while still imposing, kindly asked.

“T-That’s correct sir.” The damned soul, Jackson, nervously answered. The voice on the other side of the phone sounded worryingly familiar.

“Well, normally I would gladly listen to any complaint or comment an occupant has.” The voice, now less considerate, continued.

The damned soul felt a chill run up his spine. But not for the same reason as before. Now it was because it sounded like the voice was right behind him. The voice was too high quality. It didn’t sound like he was speaking through an outdated piece of tech. Now hearing the voice more clearly it became obvious who the boss was.

“But for you Jacky…” The Devil sneered. “You don’t get to complain about your level of luxury.”

Just as quickly The Devil spoke Jackson’s old name was the beeping of a dead line rung through the room.

The expired liquor looked even more enticing than before.