Dealing In Friends

Trust Me. . .

I was sitting in my typically junk littered room, the usual mess having been cleared and stuffed into drawers to make room for the pentagon that I had drawn on my wooden floor. Blood red ofcourse, simply because- why mess with tradition? I was reading the notes that I had made off of my notebook resting on my crossed legs, while undergoing the complicated and, rather gross ritual.

". . .And finally, pour the bowl of blood of a white goat into the eyes of the skull. . . Then write the words while I chant them."

In my studies I once saw that a 'white goat' was another way of saying human soul. So just to be sure, I pricked my finger beforehand and let a few drops of blood fall into the bowl of goats blood. . . Which I got from the local butchers, saying that I needed it for a Biology assignment where the class studies red blood cells under a microscope. I still had to pay for it, but atleast the guy didn't seem like he found the request too suspicious.

"I am his modest servant. I pray to one true God, mistakenly cast from heaven to stand up from the world down to hear my prayer and accept my worship. I want to make a deal with Satan." I repeat this phrase over and over until I finish writing the words down in Hebrew around the bleeding skull. אני משרתו הצנוע. אני מתפלל לאלוהים האמיתי אחד, בטעות יצוק מן השמים כדי לקום מן העולם למטה כדי לשמוע תפילה שלי ולקבל את הפולחן שלי. אני רוצה לעשות עסקה עם השטן

I was a big caught up in wondering if I should do Hebrew or Aramaic. . . I had atleast heard of Hebrew beforehand so I went with that.

A voice as soft and smoothe as a strand of spiders web spoke up interrupting me from my ritual that had been going on for the better half of an hour. "You can stop that now child." I look up, startled to find a man standing tall and looking down at me. A man that I had never met before with hair approaching silver, eyes of grey, skin of pale porcelain and features of a child doll. However cute he looked, he was wearing black, pointed shoes, black leggings, and a Black suit with a teasing silver shirt, complimented by a black tie with silver stars on it, and a silver ring on his left hands middle finger.

Given my start, I react in fury "Who the hell are you and why call me child!? You look no more then 15 yourself! What are you doing IN MY HOUSE?!?!

The man had the gall to look amused, however his eyes narrowed slightly just before speaking again. "You are the one who called me." He explained indicating the pentagram along with the rest of the room with a wave of his right hand.

I blanched. Feeling the blood leave my face, I asked, not truly believing it. "Ar-. . . Are you saying that you're the-"

"The devil? No." He interjected. "However, I do speak on his behalf. As do others of my kind."

I rise from my spot to inspect this. . . Thing that speaks on behalf of the dark prince. A few seconds go by with him looking mildly bored with everything before I ask, "what do you mean by your kind? Demons? Ghosts? Fallen angels?"

At that, his eyes narrowed again, seemingly in offense to my questions. "No madam, I am not a lowly spirit, and nor am I a traitorous creation of God. I am a demon and a Veritas demon at that."

I open my mouth to ask my next question but he obviously sees it coming, because he raises his hand to stem the questions ready to tip through my lips, and continues.

"Veritas is a nickname that we were given. It is latin for truth. This is due to our inability to lie. Which is one of the reasons why we are tasked with making deals. We are simply more trustworthy to humans and angels alike. Humans aren't the only ones with ambitions afterall."

"But what could an angel want?" I ask, unable to swallow my words this time.

He replied easily, with a small shrug and a dis-interested tone, "Temporary safety from us killing them, powerful armour, weapons, the bodies of their fallen comrades, spells, or maybe even to discuss the terms of Christmas."

Confused, I chose to ignore it altogether. "So. . . What now?"

"So. . . Now, we make a deal." He puts simply.

"I don't want to make one with you." I reply.

His eyes narrow, yet again "If you summoned me for nothing, I'll simply infect you with a disease and watch as you die a slow and painful death for years. Your friends and family watching as you suffer, causing them to suffer in turn"

"I don't have any friends", I blurt out, embarrassed. "And it's not that I don't want to make a deal, I just don't want to make one with you. I specifically want the Devil."

He looks slightly suprised at this and his eyes actually widen for once, a crease forming at his forehead.

"I am here to speak on his behalf. He is too busy to be bothered with such simple matters as a deal. And why not me? My entire species was specifically created for this task. Trust me, I can grant any wish that he can."

"It's because I have a somehwhat . . . Special request that involves the devil directly." I say looking the demon before me right in the eyes.

Nothing happened for a few heartbeats after. He didn't react or flinch. But all of a sudden, he gave me a small smile, one that you would give a cute puppy.

"I'm starting to like you. In fact, when you get to hell, seek me out, my name is Adam." He said without putting his hand out.

"Rachael" I reply, holding out my hand for a shake.

He looks at my hand, then looks up into my eyes, and gives a small shake of his head before disappearing. No words. No sound. No light. Nothing to signify that he was leaving. It was weird. He was simply there, then not.

I continue to stand there, waiting for something to happen. Did I lose my chance of a deal? Could I do the ritual again? It obviously works, so why not?

'But not today', I think before beginning to clean up my mess. Stashing away candles, cleaning the skull, then going to retrieve a bucket of bleach and a broom to clean the pentagram.

Upon my return to my room however, I see a figure. Made of pure shadow. A standing silhouette, observing the room in a borish fashion, hands clasped behind his back.

"Hello?" I ask, wondering if this was indeed the lord of darkness.

"Hello. I'm Sephure, I'm going to be your transportation this fine evening." His voice was bright, like an enthusiastic waiter at a low-class restaurant.

"To. . .?"

He tilted his head sideways. If only I could see his expression.

But all of a sudden he leaped at me. I barely had the time to react before I was suddenly not in my room anymore.

I'm now in a large office. The walls were silver, an over-the-top chandelier made of ruby instead of diamond dominated the roof, a desk made of a dark wood standing towards the far wall. A seat on the sude closest to me. Intricate carvings decorated the surface of the desk. As I got closer, I saw illustrations of monsters, angels and people either in pain, or in the process of death. One carving showed a person choking a demon to death with a whip. The demons eyes were bulging. Each carving was done in vivid detail.

So lost was I in my ornament gazing, that I did not notice that someone from somewhere had sat down on a wooden chair on the other side of the table. The chair, not having been there before either.

"It is-" I jumped up in fright "-quite mesmerising, isn't it?"