Tales of the Imp

Welcome to the complete collection of the 'Tales of the Imp' drabbles. A drabble is a short story that is exactly 100 words, like my other drabbles these are first published in the Indie Book Bargains website (http://www.indie-book-bargains.co.uk/ - which is a great place for readers to discover UK Kindle bargains). Unlike my other drabbles these form a series all about a man and his imp.

Here's the Imp in glorious technicolour! He's been drawn by Vicki, you can see her other great art here:

http://kafirasky.deviantart.com/gallery/

The Imp's origin story is part of the Off the KUF collection, you can buy it from Amazon here:

http://amzn.to/1k9Z1UJ


Meet the Imp

I have an imp on my shoulder. He’s always there, whispering malevolence into my ear. He’s three inches tall, with olive skin and two tiny horns on his forehead. His hair is bright red hair. His teeth are small and sharp.

He reeks of burning sulphur, which like him, follows me everywhere.

He says he’s here to protect me, that I am someone special. What can such a diminutive creature protect me from? He doesn’t answer my questions, but he enjoys telling me things.

Like whom I should kill.

I don’t listen to him.

Not yet.

The Imp goes to church

My grandma died recently. Naturally I attended her funeral. The service was at her parish church, an impressive old building with ornate decoration and surrounded by crumbling graveyard.

The Imp didn’t like this at all. The moment we entered he uttered a dreadful howl unlike any I’d heard before. Imagine a puppy that has been left alone in the house, now set its paws on fire. It sounded like that, straight into my right ear.

I put up with it for two minutes before I had to leave. Well I was told to leave as apparently I was screaming too.

What Imps eat

This morning I lay in bed, caught up in that wonderful moment between sleep and not quite being awake. I noticed an odd, damp probing sensation in my ear.

It felt strange, but not exactly unpleasant so I lay there for a while.

I guess I thought it was the remnants of a dream, but eventually I realised that I was fully awake and that the peculiar feeling continued. I glanced to my shoulder and the sensation suddenly stopped.
The Imp wore a guilty look on his face; he then slowly licked his tiny lips with an inch long tongue.

Birthday Treat

I turned 30 yesterday. I had the usual celebrations planned. I rented two movies and bought a crate of beer. The Imp asked me what I really wanted for my birthday.

Well, I thought about it for maybe a nanosecond and told him I’d like to get laid.
“No problem,” said the Imp and out we went.

That was last night. I’ve woken up in a strange bed, I don’t remember what happened, but I am naked and there is a burly arm holding me in a tight embrace. And I’m pretty sure that is a beard scratching my neck.

Imp Rhymes

Like us, imps have nursery rhymes which they learn while growing up. Imagining imps smaller than the one on my shoulder freaks me out a bit. Are baby imps scary to look at? Or are they cute and vulnerable too? Anyway here’s one he says that they learn.

This little imp went to the soul market,
and his little imp stayed in Hell.
This little imp feasted on roasted human,
and this little imp had none.
And this little imp will stay on your shoulder,
‘till Satan no longer reigns in Hell.


I think he might be having me on.

Silky Beard

I’m proud of my beard. I’ve had it for many years and it does a wonderful job of covering my face. So much so, that children no longer scream in horror when they see me.

It’s also a fun thing to stroke. It gives me a philosophical look, like I’m pondering the mysteries of the universe.

Anyway, I realised that my beard has become softer recently.

I asked the Imp if he had anything to do with it. He replied that he did. So I asked him what he did to it. He answered that I don’t want to know.

Saved by the Imp

It was a tense moment. The drunk towered over me, bits of kebab spluttering from his lips. In a slurred voice he demanded an apology. I had looked at his woman without prior permission.

In a flash the Imp leapt from my shoulder and onto his. The little creature stuck his head in the brute’s hairy ear hole.

The next thing I knew, the bruiser had vomited everywhere, all down his front and all over me. He then lurched away in a confused daze.

The grinning Imp hopped back onto my shoulder. For once he smelled better than I did.

The Imp Rides a Bunny

Today I discovered one of the Imp’s favourite pastimes – bunny riding. Now rabbits aren’t the smartest of creatures, but they know that an imp running towards them is bad news. So they did their foot tapping thing and retreated into their warrens. The only problem was that an imp can follow them.

I watched as the poor animal was dragged squeaking out the hole by its ears. It tried to escape, but with a joyous cry the Imp leapt onto its back and held on to the rabbit’s ears as it bounced around the field.

His laughter echoed my own.

The Imp and the Cat

My next door neighbour has a cat. Well, they had a cat. No-one has seen it recently. They keep asking me if I’ve seen their precious Tiddles. I never liked Tiddles, he crapped in my garden.

Although it occurred to me that Tiddles was the only creature, besides me, that could see the Imp. I also remembered that they had a fight.

I demanded to know what he had done with the cat. He gazed at me with that innocent expression and claimed that he didn’t know. 

He does have some scratches on him though, and they weren’t from me.

Five Star Imp (Special for Ignite)

“She has nice ankles,” the Imp told me as he watched me update my blog.

“Who does?”

“Her, the lady in blue, with the stars around her.”

“She’s not really blue.”

“That doesn’t matter to me; I’m not prejudiced, besides I’m yellow, blue goes well with yellow.”

“How do you know she has nice ankles?”

“That’s easy, look at her smile. Anyone with a smile like that must have nice ankles. It’s a law of the universe or something.”

“That doesn’t make sense.”

“It’s true though. I wouldn’t lie to you.”

His terrible wink put an end to that conversation.

Imps Have Feelings Too (Special for Patti)

“I feel left out,” The Imp told me as I drove home. I’d enjoyed the gathering, it’s not often I chat with other authors, face to face as it where.
“Don’t ignore me. You talked about evil and didn’t even mention me once.”
I enjoyed a few minutes of silence.
 “Where was my hug?”
 “What hug?” I asked innocently.
“You know damn well what hug I mean, as you walked out, bold as brass and you hugged that woman.”
“She couldn’t see you.”
“But you do. I have feelings you know.”
The Imp sulked for the rest of the journey.

Change is Coming

I’ve become used to having the Imp around. When I struggle with writer’s block, he’s there with little suggestions. They’re always inappropriate, but they do get me going again.

He’s also fun to have around, although I often forget that other people can’t see him and receive some puzzled expressions from people when I talk to him.

I still don’t know why he’s here though, apart from that cryptic comment that he came to protect me. Protect me from what though? It’s been two months now and I have decided that it’s time for him to reveal what he knows.

Bright Future

“I am here to make your life better,” the Imp told me.

“You said you were here to protect me.”

“That too.”

“From who?”

“Ah, well, that’s where we get to it.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well if I wasn’t here then you’d end up somewhere you wouldn’t want to be.”

“Stop being cryptic! “

“I’m here to protect you from yourself.”

“What?”

“Don’t worry about that, first we need to get you a new job.”

“But I like my job.”

“The pay sucks and so do the hours. I can get you something better. Do you have a suit?”

The Interview

I felt nervous. I didn’t want this job, what fun is working in a bank? Sure the money was better and I’d work fewer hours. The Imp pointed out that I’d have more time for writing – which sounded good.

A pretty secretary called me into the office. I walked in, shook the man’s hand. His suit fitted him much better than mine did me.

“Hello, please sit down. Why do you want this job?”

The Imp leapt from my shoulder and climbed into the man’s brain through his ear.

I didn’t say a word and I was offered the job.

Chubby Little Buddha

You should have seen him. He sat there cross legged in the sun like a chubby little Buddha. He wore a beatific smile as if he’d never imagined a perverse thought in his life.

And do you know what he said to me?

“I am at one with the universe.”

“What?”

“You should relax more.”

“How can I with you around?”

“That hurts, I’m here to make your life better. You already have a better job.”

I nodded.

“You should be more grateful.”

“Thank you for my new job.”

“No problem, now assume the position and say with me. Ooooommmmm.”

Dead Man’s Shoes

Okay, I’ll admit that the new job hasn’t turned out so bad. I soon fell into the new routine and having the Imp on hand made the whole experience a lot easier. For starters I didn’t have to do any real work, he’d climb into one of their facial orifices and mess with their brains and then they did my work for me.

‘You can’t get better than that,’ I thought.

The Imp had other ideas, he had ambitions for me. He wants me to become the Manager.

“How do I do that?” I asked.

“Dead man’s shoes,” he replied.

Second Thoughts

 “Dead man’s shoes,” he told me. Unfortunately the Imp refused to do the deed for me. I dithered for days while he whispered what the promotion would mean. More money and my own office, with everyone doing my work for me I’d have even more time to write  - great!

But still...

How to do it? Here he was full of advice, but it had to look natural. The thought of murder made me queasy. The Imp soothed my fears, said he’d talk me through it; I only had to perform the act.

The question remained, could I do it?

The Best Laid Plans

For a long week I struggled through possible scenarios. It needed to look natural, preferably an accident. I harassed the Imp for suggestions, but he told me that it had to be my plan. I’m not sure why, he wouldn’t explain. He did point out however that my boss smoked and drank a lot.

Now there was an interesting thought.

I wondered know how many smokers die in their sleep while drunk.

I know that he likes to get hammered on a Friday night, too drunk to walk home sometimes.

 It’s Friday today. I think I’ll murder my boss tonight.

Tales of the Imp - Booze and Fire

The Imp guided me, he didn’t do anything directly and he still insisted that I do everything myself. We followed my boss as he staggered home from the pub. We then waited until all the lights were out before sneaking into his house.

In his bedroom I spread his clothes near the head of his bed. I locked the windows. I then poured whiskey onto the clothes and dropped a lit cigarette.

The clothes spewed smoke and left as the flames took hold. As I closed the door I inserted a wedge of paper into the hinge to prevent escape.

Wishing on a Star

The long walk home seemed too normal; I didn’t feel like a murderer. It was a cold night, but I barely felt the air’s chill. The sky was crisp and full of stars. The Imp danced a merry jig upon my shoulder. He kept congratulating me on a job well done. His shrill little giggle filled my ear.

It took forever to walk home; I kept to the quiet streets, guided by the Imp and kept out of sight from the few people out at this strange hour.

Did I feel regret? Not then, that would come, but not yet.

The Imp Rocks Out

Heavy bass shook the house; you could say that it literally rocked the house. The little yellow demon bounced off the furniture while banging his head to rhythm of the pounding drums. I was surprised that the neighbours weren’t complaining.

Scratch that, no I wasn’t, the Imp had tamed them. I don’t know how, but he had them eating out of the palm of his chubby little hand. They even knew that he existed, his dominion was expanding.

And then oh my God, he started to sing.

“Like an Imp out of Hell I’ll be gone when the morning comes...”

The Boss

It took a while for everything to settle down, I counted time’s passing in sleepless nights. The Imp kept me going through those dark days. At every moment I expected the police to knock on my door.

Work was even worse, as you can imagine the boss’ death was the hot topic for weeks. It became a personal hell for me, the guilt of what I had done reflected in the gossip of my colleagues.

The Imp was true to his word though. One month after the involuntary demise a letter arrived from head office congratulating me on my promotion.

Imp Dating Service

I enjoyed my new job, I now had my own office and that meant more time for writing. I would finally finish my novel. I still suffered from the occasional nightmares, but the Imp soothed my guilt.

That night I arrived home and he instructed me to put on my finest suit, we were going out. He told me that he’d set me up on a date, that every successful man needed a good woman by his side.

My objections didn’t stop him, he’d already convinced me to commit murder, making me go on a date wasn’t hard at all.

The Imp's Christmas Carol

“I am the ghost of Christmas past,” the Imp said and I remembered all too many lonely Christmas days without turkey or gifts.

He nodded, “And now your Christmas present.” My mind passed over the guilt of the murder and settled on the joy of more money and respect in the office.

“I have brought you the good life and now see your Christmas future.” He promised me everything, my book would sell millions, I would marry a lovely woman and all it would cost me is my soul, what every imp wants for Christmas.

I agreed.

Wait a minute!

A Drink and a Dance

The Imp is a charming fellow when he wants to be. I don’t know how he’d set the date up but he’d chosen well, Lorraine was funny and smart and the girl of my dreams, literally in this case.

I joked, I reminisced and I charmed her with wit I didn’t possess. The evening wore on and a piano played slow numbers for lovers to dance the night away to.

The Imp has some moves on him too and I followed his moves to dance like I’d never danced before.

But in the back of my mind I wondered, why?

A True Gentleman

Like all good things that amazing first date came to an end, my usual nervousness returned as I escorted her home. Should I kiss her? The Imp said yes and so we kissed and she tasted of strawberries, which was unexpected but not unpleasant.

She invited me in and I was very much up for that idea, but the Imp said no. A bit unfair I thought, but he seems to know best, keep her keen for next time was his advice.

Besides I had some tests to undergo before I first mated, I wonder what he meant by that?

A Trip to the Doctor

I arranged our second date, an intimate dinner in a fine downtown restaurant. I wanted to taste strawberries again. I didn’t know if I could wait two days, but the Imp convinced me to play it cool and not appear too eager, not yet.

He also told me that I had a doctors appointment. When I arrived the nurse told me they needed a sample and handed me a small plastic bottle. I asked her why I had to pee in a bottle and she looked at me confused.

They didn’t want a urine sample, they wanted a semen sample.

Suspect Research

Another wonderful date and you know what, I’d never been so happy, even the Imp seemed pleased for me with his toothy grin flashing in my direction.

He still wouldn’t let me consummate the relationship though, he permitted only kissing and some light petting, anymore and he would howl like a werewolf dipped in silver, right in my ear.

Tonight though I couldn’t find him, I saw that he’d been on the computer and I expected to see the usual zombie gnome porn, instead found something very different.

Now why would an imp want to read about genetic memory research?

While the Cat’s Away

Happy days are here to stay! The Imp departed on secret business, I had the whole night without his interference.

I wore my cleanest shirt; a bit rumpled, but never mind. A splash of aftershave and I was ready. I arrived at the restaurant an hour early, so did she.

Drinks and food passed by in a blur and here we are in the bedroom and oh my word I’m trembling with excitement. She is too; it’s going to be amazing. Naked we embrace and an unwelcome shrill voice pipes into my ear.

“What’s going on here then?”

Damn him!

Sharp Scratch

I shouted at the Imp. I demanded to be allowed to make my own choices. He told me that the time had arrived; I needed one more change to become ready. And God help me I asked him what that was.

He showed me a syringe, it looked huge in his tiny hand.

I could have sex that very evening if I let him inject me with his secret concoction. I immediately offered him my arm and he shook his head and pointed down below. I hesitated, but figured it would just be a sharp scratch.

How wrong I was!

The Morning After the Night Before

I floated on cloud nine. Naturally I felt exhausted, but in a good way. It wasn’t my first time, but I’d never been much of a ladies man. For the first time I’d made love rather than simply having sex.

And in so many different positions as well.

I grinned with joy and later I hoped to return for another evening of delightful discovery. My love had finally found its physical counterpart. This was really it and she most definitely the only woman for me.

“Nice work!” The Imp wore a smile of his own. “And now onto the next.”

The Stud

Someone once told me that you can’t have too much of a good thing. Well they’re wrong! I’m absolutely bloody knackered. Every night the Imp brings me a new woman and he makes me have sex with them.

It doesn’t sound so bad when I say it like that, but before each session he injects me in each testicle.

That gets old quickly I can tell you!

When I complained he gave me an energy drink and told me to man up and get on with it. After all I have an army of bastards to sire.

Wait a minute!



The Imp in the Flesh

“After all I’ve done for you,” the Imp told me, “I think it’s time for you to demonstrate proper respect and devotion.”

“Am I not working your evil plan?”

“You are, but I desire something more permanent?”

“You have my soul.”

“And I would have more. I want my visage upon your flesh.”

“A tattoo? But they’re painful.”

He grinned at me, “Just so.”

I was wrong. It didn’t hurt. Well not much and not for the first few hours. Eventually it was done and I showed him the results.

He smiled. He always does when he gets his way.

Duck Face

Sweet Jesus what had the yellow horror done now! I ran in the room and discovered feathers and blood all over the room. My lovely sitting room with my expensive new TV all covered in gore. I’d heard a strange commotion moments before, quacking and screaming like nothing I could have imagined and now I saw why.

“What have you done?” I asked him.

He turned to face me and I beheld the true horror of it. He wore a duck’s face stretched across his own. The beak flapped as he spoke.

“I have a duck’s face,” he told me.

Missing in Action

It’s been months since I last saw the Imp and my life’s become a mess.

I don’t know where he’s gone, only that he’s not here and I don’t know what to do. Considering all of the crap he’s put me through, my feelings come as a surprise.

I’m sat in front of the computer trying to write and the words just won’t come. He claimed to be my muse and maybe that was truer than I realised.

All I know is that he understood me in a way no person ever could and now I’m alone.

Where is he?

Ritual Interrupted

Still no communication from the Imp. Life is just too damn quiet without him here. Everything continued to fall apart around me so I took matters into my own hands. As is often the case in these situations the internet provided the solution.

The salt circle and chalk markings around it were relatively easy. Sacrificing the chicken less so. It wouldn’t keep still, but after a few attempts its head and a pool of blood lay at the centre of the circle. I then attempted the summoning. Latin isn’t my strong suit either.

“That wouldn’t have worked anyway.”

He’s back!

Have a Cigar

I was so jubilant with his return that I didn’t notice the cigar at first. It stood taller than he did. He flashed his toothy grin and said, “Congratulations”

“Whatever for?”

“I understand that it’s customary to smoke one of these on such occasions.”

He passed it to me. He then produced another from a place best left unmentioned and lit it. He inhaled deeply and blew a smoke ring towards the ceiling.

“I have some good news for you.”

“What do you mean?”

“You’re a father.”

“What!?”

“Many times over as a matter of fact.”

Son of a bitch.

A Magic Number

The news that I was now a father came as quite a shock, but I handled it pretty well.

“How many children do I have?”

“Six hundred and sixty five. With one more due any day now.”

“How can it be so many? I haven’t slept with that many women!”

“Well I provided some help on that front.”

“How?”

“Have you heard of ‘milking the prostate’?”

I shook my head.

“That’s probably for the best. It almost didn’t work anyway because my arms weren’t quite long enough.”

“But why?”

“A good question and it’s time for you to find out.”

The Plan

“It all comes down to souls,” the Imp told me. “To become an adult demon I need a soul.”

“You have mine.”

“Yes I do, but to become a powerful demon I need more.”

“How many?”

“All of them.”

“That’s impossible.”

“Well obviously not every single soul, but as many as possible. Thankfully, like any true parasite humans reproduce remarkably quickly. It should only take ten or so generations to tip the balance.”

“I don’t understand.”

“You were the first and your children are the first generation.”

“I still don’t understand.”

He sighed.

“What do you know about genetic memory?”


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