This is day 14 of 
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This story is part 4 of the series #HellOnEarth. You can read the first part here
If you don't want to read from the beginning, or read the previous post here is a quick summary:
Kizzle is a demon. Usually he "welcomes" souls as they descend into Hell. But the supply has dried up. There has been a shift : Earth now has more evil in it than Hell. Evil souls are attracted to the place with the biggest concentration of evil (just think of it a bit like osmosis). There are no more evil souls coming down. But the ones that were down there...
...well, looks like they are coming back up.
Needless to say Satan is not happy. Things have definitely been worse.
And Satan wants Kizzle to make sure they're worse again.
Which means Kizzle is going to have to round up the escaped souls and bring them back. Which means dealing with loathsome humans. And if that wasn't bad enough, it looks like he has a meeting with an angel. Kizzle really hates angels.
Meanwhile, on Earth, Billy has gone to visit his Scottish grandfather, who was on the verge of death, and had lost the power of speech a few months ago. He finds Gramps sitting up and looking 10 years younger. And speaking. But with the voice of someone else.
HELL on Earth (Part 5): cats & rocks
In the dream Billy was sitting on a sofa at one end of a large room. The room was painted in neutral colours. In fact everything about the room said neutral. For some reason, Billy felt this was very important. At the other end of the were two chairs. On one sat a black cat, the other a white cat. They seemed to be having a conversation.
“I still don’t see why we have to work together,” said the white cat - rather aggressively Billy thought. “I am more than capable of sorting this mess out myself.”
“ Well, many hands make light work,” said the black cat, jovially. “And it does affect both of our realms.”
The white cat harrumphed. “Really?” it said. “It’s not your Place that is emptying faster than the bowels of a condemned man, is it? I don’t see you having to lock your precious pearly gates to stop souls leaving!”
“It is true,” the black cat said, calmly and gently. “That on the surface of it, your situation is a tad worse than ours. But quite a number of your escapees have occupied the vessels of Our People, and by taking over said vessels are impeding the timely departure of Our People to Our Place. Not only that, but the close proximity within the vessel of your escapees to Our People is raising the possibility of corruption. Anyway My Lord has spoken to your… master and they both agree that we should work together... again.”
“Even after the last time?”
“My Lord said ‘especially after the last time.’”
From somewhere outside the room, Billy heard the sound of something that sounded quite a lot like breaking glass. Both of the cats stopped and looked around.
“Did you hear that?” said the black cat.
“Yes,” said the white cat. They both looked at Billy, as if they could see him for the first time.
The white cat stood up its hairs stood up, its claws out.
“What the actual fuck are you doing here?” it hissed.
Billy woke up, panting and wet with sweat. He fumbled for the light switch and sat up. The dream, so real just a moment ago was already fading. He pulled back the bed covers and swung his legs out. As he put his foot down onto the carpet beside the bed he felt something slice his foot. Examining his foot he found a piece of glass embedded in the heal. He pulled it out as gently as he could. It hurt. Quite a bit. And there was blood, but only a couple of droplets. Not enough to panic about.
He looked around him. There was glass everywhere, and there amongst it a rock the size of his fist. The curtain was billowing inwards, and it didn’t take a genius to work out that the glass had come from the window. And that the rock was more than likely the thing that had broken it.
“Pssst, Billy-boy!”
The voice, half-whispered, half-shouted, came from outside. Billy reached under his bed and found his slippers and carefully picked his way through the glass, trying to avoid putting weight on the injured area of his foot. The window was completely shattered. His dad was going to go mental.
Careful to avoid cutting himself on the remaining glass Billy leant out of the window - the cold air felt like ice against his sweat-wet pyjamas - and looked down. There, in his pyjamas, stood his Gramps. Or rather whoever - or whatever - was pretending to be his Gramps.
“What do you want?” he said. “Go away.”
“Oh come on Billy-boy, it’s yer Grandad, innit? Spare us a couple of moments.”
“No. Go away.”
“Do you want your old Grandad to freeze to death? Your mummy to find her poor old daddy dead on the front lawn in the morning? Or shall I ring the doorbell and have a word with your dad?”
Billy sighed.
“Hold on a moment,” he went back into the room. Whatever was going on - and he really couldn’t work out what that was - he could not let the old man die. After all his Gramps was in there somehow, right? How else would he know how to find their house?
Billy really didn’t want his dad to get involved. There had been yet another argument about the old man this evening, Billy had heard it from his room. He had to get Gramps back to the home. He removed his soaking pyjamas, towelled off the excess sweat. He pulled on a pair of jeans and a pullover.
Another stone landed with a thump on the carpet of his room.
“Hurry up Billy-boy!” came the call. “I’m fucking freezing down here!”
Wondering what the hell he was doing, Billy grabbed another pullover from his drawer. He tied it around his waist and made his way back over to the window.
“Hold your fire!” he hissed, seeing the old man with another rock in his hand. “I’m coming!” Billy climbed out of the window.
...
You can find Part 6: Hearts and Minds here: https://steemit.com/fiction/@felt.buzz/hell-on-earth-part-6-hearts-and-minds-an-original-work-of-fiction-for-the-365daysofwriting-challenge