Short stories or something...

Deal with the Devil

Written in June 2020

Prompt: You sold your soul to the devil some years ago. Today he gives it back and says, "I need a favor." (Someone told me the prompt, but I later found it on Pinterest too)

Warning: Mention of death and killing... so more death

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Rain pounded on the roads and sidewalks, making for umbrellas to unveil themselves, further crowding the already cluttered areas where pedestrians and workers on their lunch break. The city at noon is chaotic and fast-paced, more so now than usual throughout the day. Ashton blended right in with the crowd, sure to keep his head down, hood over his head, and hands stuffed in the pockets of his light grey sweatshirt.

He was making his way to a coffee shop downtown to meet... well... "someone". That morning, he had been woken up to a knock on his door and when he went to answer it, no one was there, just a black rose and a note. He knew exactly who, more like what wanted to see him. They had made a deal, after all.

This coffee shop was only a few blocks from his apartment, so walking was an option instead of having to take a bus or train. He hoped it wouldn't be necessary to sprint out of the shop for his life, but sneakers were worn, just in case.

Looking up briefly, he glanced at the building in front of him then back at the note. "This is the place." He muttered to himself, suddenly anxious now that he couldn't stall around anymore.

Before entering, he took a deep breath, preparing for the worst. A bell rang through the shop as the door opened, but no one looked up from their phones or computers. The baristas were busy with customers lining up at the counter, but it didn't matter. Overpriced coffee or tea wasn't the reason for coming.

As his dull eyes scanned over the scenery, it was recalled why he never spent any time in these places. It was always too crowded, too lively, compared to his lifeless aura. Plus, they brought up... bad memories. Of course, "someone" would choose to meet here. Just as he was about to give up looking, the damned soul that forced him out of his home was spotted.

In the back of the café sat what appeared to be a man, but Ashton knew better. The man wore a bright crimson suit with a black vest, making no effort to blend in with the casual population. His hair was combed back neatly, complementing the charming smile he wore. The man looked put together, but flashy. Very unusual.

The human-made his way over to the table and reminded himself he was only there to see what the dealmaker wanted. Nothing more, nothing less. No reason to be nervous.

"I see you received my message." The man's voice was deep, almost like an earthquake rattling through his ears. He sat down and pulled the hood of his sweatshirt down, raking a hand through the mess of dark hair he had.

"What do you want?"

The man smirked, smoothing out his jacket. "Always down to business."

"You should be too. You are Satan, after all."

"And you sold your soul to me." The man sat forward, abruptly serious. "Let me determine the agenda if you want to walk away with your life."

Ashton scowled, but on the inside, he was terrified. Talking with the devil was nothing to be done with confidence.

The devil sat back, relaxed again. "Good. Now, Ash, I-"

"Don't call me Ash. My name is Ashton."

The suited man glared. Ashton normally agreed to just about any condition, seeing as he sold his soul, but nobody called him Ash. No one except for one and that wasn't Satan.