Tattooed in Hell (Crown the empire)

Menace

I stared.

And stared.

I didn't know how long I was gaping at him, but all I know is that it was a long time.

"Are you just going to stare at me all night? Or are you going to say something?"

I felt my insides turn, and my head spin. I felt everything inside me churn in weird places and in weird ways.

"Y-your Satan...?" I hesitated,

"I just said that dumbass," He started playing with the metal skull ring that was around his middle finger. The light from my apartment landed on the ring and shun into my eyes.

"Um right...How do I know you’re not just inside my head?"

Satan got up from the arm chair and swung his cane in the air, he walked around my apartment. Causing every loose floorboard too creak under his weight. He walked over to my record player.

He flipped over my albums while saying, "That's a good point, and I can't really prove that I'm not an illusion. But then again humans tend to prefer the route where there not labeled as crazy, right?" He looked over his shoulder and winked, again.

I felt my stomach drop.

"Yeah...”

He laughed as he picked an album; he blew the dust off of the colourful cover. The particles danced and glistened around him in the light. He flipped the record out of its case and put it in the player. He put the needle on the record. And I let the music flood my ears.

"You have great taste in music." Satan smiled as he turned around. He closed his eyes and swayed to the music. He stayed like that until the song changed. Then he sat back facing me. He plopped his cane on the ground by his feet. He looked at me as he snapped his fingers again. There in his hand appeared a scotch on the rocks in a clean clear crisp glass.

I stared; he took a long sip and sighed. "Apologies I was beyond parched."

I grew slightly angry, if he really was what he said he was then why was he just playing around? Why is he just sitting there? Acting so completely normal? Like this Is an everyday thing.

If this is just my imagination, then I have fantastic taste in illusions.

I clenched my jaw, "Look, can you tell me why your here." I demanded as I set my beer back on the table, completely missing the coaster that he originally set up.

"Isn't it obvious?!" He scoffed.

"No. Not really," I sat back in the chair and crossed my arms over my chest. Letting the tattoos on my arms move as my muscles did.

"I came to give you what you wished. Happiness."

I narrowed my eyes at him, "Happiness?" I felt my mouth go dry. This could be what I've always wanted. I could be happy, I wouldn't need the pills anymore. I can love myself, I can finally learn to accept me.

My thoughts stopped.

But at what cost?

"What's in it for you?" I asked, hoping it wouldn't have to be anything too drastic.

"Oh nothing much really. I'll just ask you to do deliveries for me that need to be delivered from time to time. Oh and your soul, so nothing too big."

"My soul? Wow, Satan." I scoffed as I took a swig from my beer and plopped down further into my big comfy arm chair. I found it in an old dumpster years ago, it still has a faint garbage, dead fish smell. Nothing a little Febreeze can't fix.

Mr. Satan gave me a look; he took a small sip of his scotch. He snapped his fingers and a brown oak table appeared next to him along with another coaster. He sat the drink down gently, trying not to make a loud clunk sound.

I stared in awe. I never thought the devil was a polite, well mannered, high vocabulary man.

"I have a name you know" he replied, hotly as he crossed his legs.

"What is it then"

"It's Lucifer dumbass, what else would it be?" He rolled his eyes at my stupidity.

I grew angry; no one called me stupid even if he was the king of hell.

"Whatever Lucifer Fuck Off" I flipped him the bird as I sat my drink on the table with a loud clunk. He cringed slightly

"Oh and Ringo is any better?" He smirked, his eyes gleaming with mischief.

I pinched the bridge of my nose, "How do I know you’re really...” My mouth couldn’t bare to finish the sentence,

"Telling the truth?" I gave a low nod; I stared down at the ground, not daring to look up into his red eyes.

I found a pair of hands on my shoulders, I felt his breathe tickle my neck, "Well," He started, his voice low and rumbly, "You'll just have to trust me Johnny"