Infernal Insurance, story by Jennifer Weigel
Let us take a brief glimpse into the Infernal Insurance Answering Service… because you always suspected as much.
A cherry-red-skinned woman with slightly pointed ears and long black hair wearing a studded black leather miniskirt and matching corset wakes from her nap. She turns to answer a 1950s era black rotary dial telephone from an office in the depths of Hades. A red light on the phone flashes to indicate that there is a caller on hold, which is released as an incoming call finally rings through after several attempts.
The demonic receptionist spins ever so slightly in the oversized leather office chair, using her barbed tail as a sort of paddle to push herself lightly along. She glances at an old microcomputer on the desk in front of her, its black screen just sitting there staring blankly ahead as if powered down permanently. She coils the tangled phone cord around a long black claw tipped with red.
As the receptionist speaks, smoke and brimstone curls around her yellow jagged rows of sharks teeth barely hidden behind her ruby painted lips. Her small wings rise and fall teasingly. Her flame yellow eyes glow, like those of a cat in the darkest night. She is both stunningly beautiful and terrifying at the same time.
“Hello and thank you for calling Infernal Insurance. May I put you on hold?”
The phone clicks over before the caller can respond. The loudest, most obnoxious elevator accordion and bagpipe music imaginable wafts from the receiver as the receptionist sets it aside to manicure her claws. After a long interlude she picks it up again.
“Thank you for holding.”
“Ok, first I’ll need you to verify your account with us…”
The computer screen in front of the demonic receptionist sits black and vacant until she presses a button on the keypad and it springs to life. An account number must be entered and verified to continue. The receptionist speaks into the phone, pausing just long enough to give the caller time to respond.
“What is your account number?”
“What is your current name as well as any other names, nicknames and pseudonyms you might have used or been associated with over the course of this lifetime and the three prior?”
“Yes, I need all of them.”
“Ok, now what is your most recent date of death associated with this account?”
The receptionist types in all of the information given over the next 12 pages without verifying the spelling of any of it. She enters a string of 6s scrolling through the last three pages until she is satisfied with her entry and hits the Enter button. She turns back to the phone call.
“Now we need a sample of your blood. Use the razor blade built into the phone receiver to slit your wrist and bleed into the phone mouthpiece.”
The receptionist types madly into the system. The screen flashes a red warning error message and goes black again.
“I’m sorry, we have no record of that account number as associated with you. Can you repeat that? Did you perhaps miss a nickname or misread or transpose any of the numbers? Sometimes the account number tattooing becomes less legible or migrates over time.”
The receptionist types the caller’s information in again, this time adding six more 6s at the beginning and again at the end than were spoken.
“You’re right, that was the correct number associated with your account. It seems we didn’t get enough blood to run through our verification process the first time, I’ll need for you to do that again. Try holding the receiver to your wrist for several minutes while you bleed out this time.”
The account appears on the screen, its content information slowly forming character by character in flaming red from the dark void in old school DOS fashion. The screen locks on a bill for $2,720,322.46 owed for services both rendered and not. A payment plan must be initiated to proceed.
“Ok, I found your account. You owe $2,720,322.46 in back policy payments.”
“Yes, I am sure that is the amount owed. Would you like to pay in full today? Do you have a bank account that you would like to use?”
“Yes, we can arrange for scheduled payments but there will be a surcharge for that service.”
The receptionist types in the bank account information given by the caller, this time verifying every figure three times to be sure to plug it in correctly. She hits the button to schedule monthly payments.
“Oh I see that you are already on our scheduled payment plan which is how you came to owe $2,720,322.46 with the surcharges, compounding interest and inconvenience fees. We will up your payment amounts, then. If you can offer a down-payment of your firstborn, we can minimize the amount you owe for each payment processed to the account.”
“Ah yes, I see that you have already done so, Carrie is in the system accordingly. Her balance is $1,425,866.53. We cannot transfer any more of your balance to her account. Do you have any other offspring?”
“Oh, I’m so very not sorry to hear that, what a tragic loss,” the receptionist smiles and runs a forked tongue over her jagged teeth. “No, we don’t cover those circumstances. Let me see what I can do.”
She downgrades the insurance plan from a Deluxe Super Premium plan to a Super Essential Premium Plus account. The resulting savings are -$35,609.24 so that now $2,756,933.70 is owed in total. It doesn’t add up, but that is to be expected.
“Ok, after some changes to your policy, I managed to get your payments down to $527.31 per month. It’s only a 300% increase.”
“I’m going to need to put you on hold again while I make those updates.”
The loud, obnoxious elevator accordion bagpipe music returns as the phone clicks over. The only comparable sound anyone can think to associate the hold music with is that of someone skinning a live cat. Fortunately, few callers have actually heard such a terrible sound as that of a live creature being skinned, but this so-called music is exactly what they would imagine it to be like.
The receptionist continues to file her claws to sharpened points, moving onto her exposed feet as she removes them from her thigh high leather boots to manicure those nails as well, before answering again.
“Thank you again for holding. Now, what did you need?”
She types “Maggots eating face” into the line to open a claim. She hits Enter.
“No, I’m sorry, but your policy type does not insure against maggots eating your face off. You would have to upgrade to a Deluxe Super Premium plan for that, but we cannot offer that policy type with your current amount of back payments owed.”
“Let me put you on hold while I look that up.”
The yowling cat elevator accordion bagpipe music returns briefly, inspiring even the most stubborn callers to want to cut out their eardrums or lobotomize themselves with an ice pick or do whatever it takes to make it stop. The receptionist yawns, takes a swig of coffee, flexes her wings, and clicks over the phone again.
“No, I see no record of your having been in that policy type before. You are in a Super Essential Premium Plus account. This account type has limited liability when it comes to bodily harm, possessions, and damages caused by weather, insects, animals, humans, demons, angels, and any other supernatural or otherworldly beings.”
“No, I’m sorry but as I’d stated previously, maggots eating your face is not covered by this account type. It will cover any routine losses caused by ordinary houseplants, several highly uncommon diseases, and some specific interactions with Azamir but not while online in any form. You will have to read the fine print on the 5,687 pages following the policy account information to discern just what is and isn’t covered in what circumstances.”
“Yes, you can file a formal complaint if you wish. As a receptionist for Infernal Insurance, I am mandated not to give you my name or identity so you will have to file any such complaint without said information.”
“To file a complaint, you will have to call back on Saturday morning between 2 and 5 AM and wait your turn on hold. We do not get to everyone in the queue every week, so it may take several Saturdays to get through. I’d recommend calling as close to 2 AM as possible.”
“All complaints are promptly incinerated the following Tuesday at 10 PM.”
“Thank you again for calling. I will put you on hold until the phone system will allow you to hang up. Have a horrible day.”
The demonic receptionist smiles a wide toothy grin as she clicks the call over to the grating hold music, takes another swig of coffee, and curls up in her chair for a long overdue nap. The red phone caller indicator light blinks that there is a call on hold waiting to be released as she drifts off to sleep again until the next call comes in.
Feel free to check out more of Jennifer Weigel’s work here on Haunted MTL. Or on her writing, fine art, and conceptual projects websites.
So, as you may have noticed, we have a special fondness for spiders here on Nightmarish Nature. Well, they are kind of the spokes-critters for horrifying animalia, perhaps because they are so freakishly different from us. Or maybe it’s because I find them a little disconcerting for all that I try to take the “you mind your business, I’ll mind mine” approach, at least if they stay outdoors. Or just because I really like to draw spiders for all that I prefer not to find them sharing my home (though I’ll gladly take spiders over other bugs or mice or larger critters who didn’t get an invite).
Anyway, this segment is devoted to the largest Giants Among Spiders, as if you didn’t have enough to worry about already. And the top place is contested based upon body mass or leg length. Most of these are tarantulas, which globally take top place among the large arachnids.
Goliath Birdeater Tarantula
The Goliath Birdeater Tarantula of South America is the biggest brute of spiderdom, weighing in at over 6 ounces. They build funnel burrows and are known to eat birds (although rarely), mice, lizards, frogs, and snakes, but largely any big insects including other species of spiders. They have urticating barbed hairs that they fling at would-be attackers as an irritant to escape. And people even eat them after they singe the bristles off. Here’s a National Geographic video showing this spider in action, in case you wanted to see a giant spider take out a mouse.
Giant Huntsman Spider
And with the longest legs, we have the Giant Huntsman Spider of Laos, with a leg-span of 12 inches. Their legs have twisted joints and they move in a crab-like manner, which furthers their impressive appearance. ‘Cause they’ve got legs, and know how to use ’em. They prefer to live in underbrush and cave entrances. These are like the big relatives of their Australian cousins, which we’ve all seen online and developed a healthy aversion to.
Brazilian Salmon Pink Birdeater & Brazilian Giant Tawny Red Tarantulas
Next we have two more South American species: the Brazilian Salmon Pink Birdeater, which boasts one-inch fangs, and the Brazilian Giant Tawny Red, believed to be the longest-lived spider with a lifespan of up to thirty years. Both are in the tarantula family and have urticating hairs, a word you probably never read much before today unless you are in the hobby. So apparently South America is not the best travel destination for you if you struggle with arachnophobia, though I suspect you’d figured that out already. (I wouldn’t recommend Australia or Southeast Asia either.)
Face Size Tarantula
And finally the Face Size Tarantula, which has a very terror-inducing name reminiscent of the Face Huggers of Alien-glory. Anyway, these spiders have an 8-inch leg-span and live in India and Sri Lanka. They look kind of like big hairy wolf spiders with stripey legs, sometimes with pink and daffodil coloring.
If you enjoyed this eight-legged segment of Nightmarish Nature on Giants Among Spiders and their larger than life kin, please check out past segments:
So here is our last installment of our AI journey exploring the idea of Little Red Riding Hood and the Big Bad wolf being one and the same. All of these are based upon the AI generated art and prompts using NightCafe and then created as posters in Canva. Feel free to check out Part 1 and Part 2 of this exploration if you missed them.
A non sequitur I know, but I couldn’t resist. If you picked up where we left off you’ll get it.
Seriously?! Again with the cropped off head cop out…
Finally! That was a journey. And not even worth the result, in my opinion.
Anyway, here is a bonus montage I made out of a bunch of additional Red Riding Hood prompts for an article that never happened…
Prompts for Montage:
1.) What if Little Red Riding Hood and the Big Bad Wolf were one and the same being?
2.) Her wolf face peering out of her red cloak, fangs dripping with the blood of another victim, lost in the forest and never found.
3.) Little Red Riding Hood closes in for the kill, lunging from her red cloak, her wolf fangs dripping with blood.
4.) I am Little Red Riding Hood. I am the Big Bad Wolf. I am coming for you.
5.) Howling within, the rage sears forth from the red cloak, discarded in the deep woods. Red Riding Hood succumbs to the lycanthropy.
6.) Heaving breaths. Dripping blood. Red Riding Hood is not what she appears. She is a wolf in sheep’s clothing.
7.) Her red cloak masks the fangs hidden below the surface.
8.) It starts with a long sighing breath. Waiting. The wolf within stirs.
9.) Red Riding Hood trembles. She succumbs to the lycanthropy.
10.) The wolf bursts forth from within. It takes over Little Red Riding Hood’s mind, her body, her being.
11.) Red Riding Hood howls. She is ravenous with hunger for blood. The wolf within has taken over. Mind, spirit, body. She feasts on the blood of the moon.
12.) Big Bad Wolf Red Riding Hood ravenous blood moon feast
13.) Blood moon beckons. I. Little Red Big Bad Riding Hood Wolf. Freedom howling night curse.
14.) Beware. Bewolf. BeRedRidingHood. Betwixt. Beyond.
15.) I pad quietly as the forest dissolves around me. Red Riding Hood and Wolf, one and the same.
16.) Wolf within howling dark recesses of the mind, Red Riding Hood lost
17.) Red Riding Hood HOWL wolf bane true existence polymorph within-and-without.
18.) Red howl Riding Wolf dark existence brooding within
So thank you for joining us on another AI art journey. You can still catch the last AI art journey on Haunted MTL here. To see more such devolutions into AI generated art, check out the Will the Real Jennifer Weigel Please Stand Up? blog.
Continuing our AI journey from last time exploring Little Red Riding Hood herself as the Big Bad Wolf… All of these are based upon the AI generated art and prompts using NightCafe and then created as posters in Canva.
How very… Phantom of the Opera predatory… this is definitely not what I had in mind. Maybe something more cutesy?
Ugh. Maybe not.
Wow, that seems like such a cop out, cropping off the head so you don’t have to depict it. And I don’t want to lose the Little Red Riding Hood reference completely.
So no surprise there, I knew that was too many references to work.
And we continued to devolve, join us again next week for the final installment to see how this ended… And again, if you want to catch the last AI art journey, you can find it on Haunted MTL here. To see more such devolutions into AI generated art, check out the Will the Real Jennifer Weigel Please Stand Up? blog.
