The Department of Hate - A Love Story by Anthony O'connor Page A

Jarrod
    “All’s quiet on the Western Front my Lord .” Jarrod wondered where he’d managed to pick up that expression. It sounded ridiculous. He replied tersely
    “Yeah whatever.” He glared at Abaddon. He knew what this little monster would do to Cassandra if he could. He wondered what would happen if he ordered Abaddon to throw himself into the Pit. That would be amusing. But instead he simply asked him
    “How often does this happen? The attacks I mean.” Abaddon replied
    “Until recently, my Lord, not often - once or twice a year. But over the last few months almost every night.  Always the Nordic Gods, I don’t know why.  We’ve never got one of them before though.” Jarrod was bored with him, he spoke abruptly
    “Yes, I gathered that. All right, fuck off then, we’re going back inside .” Abaddon bowed
    “Yes my Lord .” He walked away. He was used to being treated harshly. In fact he was pleased to see glimpses of the Master shining through the hopefully very temporary and oh so incredibly weak and pathetic human facade.
     
    As Jarrod and Cassandra walked back to their room they were both feeling quite overwhelmed. Jarrod sighed
    "I don't think we'll ever get any rest down here. But at least we know why we're here."Cassandra was puzzled
    "Why?" Jarrod was trying to make light of it all
    "Well apparently, I rebelled against God right back in the beginning - and lost. While you, by your own admission, like fucking men - in a non-biblically approved fashion ." Cassandra laughed
    "You think He takes a dim view of that?" Jarrod smiled.
    "Well it's not actually mentioned anywhere - no explicit prohibition. I don’t think they even thought of it back then. But yes I'm pretty certain he does. He doesn’t seem to tolerate much. He is obviously fairly limited in scope ." Cassandra seemed to be thinking about it, she replied slowly and more seriously
    "You know, I didn’t really like it that much - but it paid well and I needed the money." Jarrod couldn’t think of any kind of smart response to that. So he said nothing.

Chapter 8 – Social Stability
     
     
    Jarrod had taken the tube to Piccadilly Circus and was now walking along Blithe Street looking for the restaurant. He was in a foul mood, worse than ever - a long way from his normal carefully restrained placidness. The Golden Cat! What a ridiculous name for a restaurant! He already regretted agreeing to go out for the evening. But his friend Robert McDowell had been unrelenting. He saw Robert everyday at work - though he hadn’t seen Robert's wife Wendy for quite some time. She was not completely unpleasant - sometimes. Just the three of them might make a tolerable night of it. But what annoyed him immensely is that they'd set him up on what was in effect a blind date - one of Wendy's friends, Caroline. He didn’t understand why they felt the need to periodically inflict on him this kind of misery. Robert had told him all about Caroline - he had seemed quite enthusiastic. But Jarrod couldn't remember any of it. He knew he was in for another long and awkward evening and wasn’t looking forward to it at all.
     
    It was bitterly cold. He was wearing a large thick coat - he adjusted it, trying to pull it around his neck more tightly. What sort of idiot went out for the evening in January!  And yet the street was full. People everywhere, rushing about.  A small group of them were standing outside a pub arguing. Jarrod had to walk around them.  He was becoming increasingly agitated. As he crossed the next intersection a car sped towards him not bothering to slow down. He had to jump out of the way to avoid getting hit. Regaining his balance he span back around in a rage all but ready to haul the driver out through the window and smash his head into the pavement. But the car had already made it half way down the next street - the driver surely yet another dull unthinking cretin, probably completely oblivious to his offense.  Jarrod took a few deep