Devilish

Beginnings

Trigger warning : brief mentions of death, panic attacks depression

I lay in the cold water, staring into the void as anxiety feasts upon my soul. It's the dead of the night, no one is awake, except for me and my stupidity. Take a bath, they said, it will ease you up. Well, I hate to break it to you, but lying in some warm water won't fix anything. Sighing in frustration, I wake up my numb limbs and get out. Not bothering with towels or clothes, I make my way to the bedroom.

The clock on my laptop shows that it's almost 3 in the morning, which just worsens my thoughts. I haven't slept for days, too scared of experiencing the same nightmare, and tonight I have a gig booked. It's very tempting to just call the venue and cancel, but I've worked too hard to let this opportunity just slide away. A shiver travels down my spine, reminding me to throw something on before I get hypothermia or some of that sort.

Sitting down at my messy desk, I look over the lyrics I wrote earlier this week. At least if I don't sleep I'll able to finish a song, which means I have more material to play. The verses are fairly simple; I had a sliver of an idea and couldn't be bothered to complicate it, so I ended up with a short story about making a pact with the devil. Up until now I haven't been able to fully read it, but I'm pleasantly surprised with it turning out good. 

Singing the lyrics out loud, I tap my fingers trying to create a melody. Flames from the candles next to me start flickering, contorting the shadows demonically. This adds to the atmosphere, making me repeat the chorus louder a few times. Warmth washes over my cold skin then shivers travel through my body like electricity. Hearing my heart beat louder, I now sing to full volume, pouring my soul into the words. 

Bending my head back, I close my eyes and images start flashing : large audiences watching me perform, thousands of fans lining up for my shows, awards, golden discs and everything successful artists have. Like a pair of arms, something wraps around my waist and holds me tight, which makes me feel protected rather than scared. Suddenly, my breathing becomes sporadic and a pounding headache takes control as I reach the end of the song.

" Well you have an interesting voice." A raspy voice speaks, scaring the living shit out of me. I jump up, immediately regretting it as the room starts spinning. Using the desk as support to lean on, I turn my head to where the voice came from.

Sitting on my windowsill is a large man with spikey hair. From the candlelight, his face is very sharp and defined, like it was sculpted from stone. He stares at me somewhat bored, but it's very hard to tell. Bloody red eyes glisten like rubies, brought to evidence by the darkness surrounding them, hypnotizing me like a spell.

I open my mouth, all the words vanishing like dust. " Speak." His voice is commanding. " I haven't cut out your tongue."

"Who the fuck are you and why the fuck are you in my house?" My words flow out nervously as I watch him roll his eyes.

" You summoned me." 

I reply, furrowing my brows in confusion, " No I didn't."

" Oh you have to be joking," He laughs mockingly, " You literally said my names like six times at this hour!" Shaking his head, he stands up and walks towards me. " You obviously want something to do with me."

Without being able to back away, I watch as he gets taller with each step, looking down on me. "So tell me, what is it you wish for?" His hands fall on each side of the desk, trapping me. My brain is about to explode as I try to process all of this. Summoned him? How the fuck can you summon some stranger in your room?

" Just leave me the fuck alone!" At my words, he laughs again. I can't tell whether it's from the candlelight, the fact that I'm severely sleep deprived or the headache but he didn't seem human. His pupils are too red, not even contacts would exist in such a bright yet dark shade, his pale skin looks transparent and veins are littered all across his body. It's like I'm staring at a vampire.

" Oh my, you really are clueless!" His remark came out surprised, followed by a shook of the head. " Oh, what a shame," grabbing a strand of hair that fell on my face, he brushed it behind my ear.

" Can you at least tell me who you are and what you want?" I pretend not to look intimidated by how dangerously close he is to me. I'm able to feel his burning breath on my skin. No one has been this close to me for ages.

With his fingers, he grabs my chin and makes me look into his eyes. " Who do you think I am?" That's when I spot the sharpest spikes, one on each side of his head. Horns. My blood turns cold as I connect the dots.

" No you can't-" Shaking my head in disbelief, I look at the lyrics then back at him. " There's no fucking way. I must be going mental." I rub my face as if it's a nightmare I have to wake up from.

A wide grin plasters on his face, " Satan, nice to meet you." He reaches his hand to which I'm meant to shake. I remain still, knowing damn well his tricks. " Smart," he moves back and sits on my bed.

Remaining still, I talk bitterly, "I'm not interested in your deals."

" You wrote about making a pact with me, being rather delighted about it. Now I don't know, but it sounds like you are." My head scrambles for a reasonable excuse, anything that would get him to leave. Before I speak, he opens his mouth " I know what you want, and I can give it to you."

Rolling my eyes, I refuse to give in to his cheap trick. I know that's his job, selling me pleasures on a golden platter, then abandoning me right after I give what he's after. I'm not dumb, I was raised on cult films and books so I know how this will turn out. 

Yet there's something in me, probably greed or the self- destructive tendencies, that want to see what will happen. He came up when I called, it would be uneducated of me to leave him hanging. 

 " And what is that?" I decide to play along.

He smirks, flames dancing in his eyes, " Everything you wished for." Standing up again, he slowly circles around me, speaking seductively, " Fame, adoration, protection, revenge. All for a cheap price."

I can feel my heart pounding out of my chest, " My soul." 

" Yes," he smiles at my knowledge, close to me again and pressing a finger on my chest. " You won't feel a thing. And excuse me for making an assumption, but I don't think you have a use for it anyways."

He's right. I had the soul sucked out of me for ages now, metaphorically, so what difference would it make if he really took it now. Nothing would change, I'd still be this lifeless, depressed, anxious shell. Fuck it. " You're right." I swallow the lump in my throat.

" Good girl. Now before, I have to let you know of the six terms."

" Of course there's six," I whisper amused.

" One, I will fulfil your wishes but you can't let anyone know about me. Two, I will protect you from anyone that could pose a significant threat. Although, my third term is that I can't harm anyone unless they laid a finger on you. Karma works her way, and I'm not trying to steal her job. Four, if any request of yours backfires and doesn't work out, I am not to be held accountable. Five, once you offer me your soul I can't give it back. And six, though I am able to change life around you, I can't change you as a person."

The last rule leaves me a bit dazed. An emptiness sets in, realizing that I won't ever be able to change. I will be stuck with this damaged version of me for all my life, whether I like it or not. Sure, some experiences may leave me a bit changed, but I will still be me : damaged, scared, lonely and empty. I take a deep breath, trying to prevent a panic attack from coming. The devil looks at me patiently.

" Everything understood?" I nod, looking deep into his eyes. His eyes become a bright red, as well as his skin. The horns on his head become sharper and longer, spooking me. " Full name?"

" Jennifer Wilde."

He mumbles the name a few times then cups my face with his large hands, placing his plump lips on mine. The pounding headache from earlier returns, only this time it straight up feels like someone is smashing my skull with a hammer. Everything turns black as I feel all of the life being sucked out of me. The quiet deafens me. Air doesn't reach my lungs anymore. It's like I'm being buried alive, crushed by the dirt. Is this what the sweet kiss of death feels like?