Jasfoup peeled a sticker off the newly acquired tortured soul and stuck it onto his notebook. John Yardley was literally rooted to the spot. As a successful suicide he was condemned to spend eternity as a tree of mourning, forever tormented by harpies.
A face forced itself through the bark. “What’s that then?”
“That’s my sticker,” said Jasfoup. “It shows that I collected you. When I get enough of them I get another promotion.”
“How are you doing?” John watched as the demon leafed through several pages all full of the tiny yellow marks. He could see that the book was about two-thirds full.
“Better than you.”