“Now listen, Moseley,” the director said. Moseley’s attempt to refrain from cowering failed.

“This is the fourth time this month,” the director continued, “the fourth time I’ve had reports of your utter incompetency. That makes close to thirty complaints this year alone.”

Moseley flinched. The director grabbed a folder and started flipping through it.

“What in the underworld made you decide to possess an eighty-five-year-old lady?” the director snapped. “And why did you make her go on an exercise regime?”

This project had seemed more logical in Moseley’s head.

“Well, sir,” he squeaked, “I was going to give her a heart attack.” Alas, things hadn’t gone quite as planned. Moseley’s face clouded over. “Unfortunately, the lady took to the regime quite well, and…” He cleared his throat. “Her cardiologist believes her heart beats stronger than ever.”

The director heaved a frustrated sigh. “Fantastic.”

He continued perusing page after page — failure after failure — in Moseley’s folder, his expression of disgust growing more prominent by the second.

“What happened when you possessed this clown?”

Moseley gulped. “Apparently I made him less scary than before and he got promoted…”

The director slammed Moseley’s folder shut.

“Frankly, I’m tempted to fire you right now,” he said, throwing the folder aside. “But I’m a kind person, Moseley.”

Moseley eyed the director’s steely gaze and sharp, glinting teeth. Kind indeed.

“I’m willing to give you one last chance to prove that you deserve to be at this agency. Do you understand?”

“Yes, sir,” Moseley said meekly.

“Good. Now get out and make someone’s life miserable.”

Moseley floated along the pavement, letting the tide of people guide him forward.

He couldn’t believe that so many — or rather, all — of his projects had failed so spectacularly. Was it his fault that his inner benevolence just couldn’t be suppressed? Regardless of past mistakes, however, Moseley was acutely aware that he had a last opportunity to prove that he was evil enough at heart.

He began scanning the crowd for a potential candidate. Who was he (hopefully) going to make suffer?

What about that woman…? No, she looked desolate enough already. That guy with the shopping bags? Moseley could make him cook a bad stew…

His eyes suddenly stopped on a man across the street. He was scurrying behind a woman.

“Please, I’ll do anything!”

“Leave me alone.”

“I’ll buy you roses everyday!”

“How many times do I have to tell you, I’m allergic!”

Moseley’s eyes followed the couple as they dissolved into the crowd. A smile crept onto his face.

“One life, Moseley. That’s all you had to destroy.” The director clenched his claw. “What happened?”

“A couple was arguing,” Moseley gulped, “so I possessed the man. I was going to break them up…”

“But…?”

“They got back together instead.”

“So you helped them.”

“The man, maybe. But the woman…” Moseley recalled the man rushing to a florist’s. “She’ll probably be in hospital tomorrow.”

The director sighed. “Well, you win some, you lose some…”