deal | jjk

01

It's empty. Not a single soul present, except for you. You should've picked a different location, surely crossroads are abundant. But this one was desolate, no one around to witness the massive fool you're about to make of yourself. Maybe it's also due to the fact that it's in the middle of the night. Probably.

Your trusty old car waits a couple of meters behind, lazily pulled over on the side of the thin, dirt road and with the headlights on to guide you. There are a few sparsely placed streetlights, but none that's emitting actual light. You've retrieved the plastic bag containing the three components needed, and it swings heavily from your hand. You won't deny that you're nervous.

So focused on the three ingredients for your soup of failure, you realize that the shovel remains at home, leaning against the wall beside your front door.

Fuck.

Well, you're not driving back to get it, and the dirt in the middle of the crossroad seems kind of loose anyway, so you might as well just use your hands.

The plastic bag is turned upside down, letting the things fall out and onto the ground where you're kneeling. Looks like it's gonna be the end for your black jeans, but you can't find it in you to care; they're old and worn.

When empty, the bag is used as a loose-fitting glove for both your hands, and you start tearing up the dirt. It doesn't take too long, but you're still rendered breathless by the time the hole in the ground is deep enough to place the things into. A small wooden box, containing a polaroid of you, along with a fistful of graveyard dirt, and a bone of a black cat gets dropped inside. With a last look at the items and your fingers crossed, you start shuffling the dirt back haphazardly with your feet.

"Smart trick, using the bag like that."

You flinch at the amused voice that cuts through the eerie silence from behind. When you turn around, you see a figure standing just outside the headlights' reach. There aren't any houses or even trees around, just fields of tall grass, and since your car is the only one there, there's nowhere else he could've come from.

"Are—are you the... demon?"

He chuckles at your voice that's everything but confident. "Come here, and see for yourself."

You can't make out much of him, just that he's tall and dressed in black, and despite your heartbeat giving you a clear warning, your feet take you closer to him. Obeying a strange man in the middle of nowhere is definitely something your mother would've berated you for, but you don't have any choice.

The further you stray from the light supplied by your car, the more your eyes adapt to the darkness. When you're close enough to discern his features, you nearly lose your breath.

He... looks out of this world, that's how beautiful he is. Black hair that reaches his defined cheekbones in wavy strands. Big, expressive eyes. Big, smug eyes. His jaw is sharp, and his nose—slightly hooked—fits his face so perfectly. You've never seen anyone like him.

You whisper, "but you, uh, you look so human?" It's true, he might be the most handsome man you've ever laid your eyes on—but he's just a man.

"You wanted horns?" he smirks, making you blush a little. Maybe not horns, but you certainly expected something other than clear skin and luscious hair. He's also wearing black jeans with a black dress shirt tucked into them. Human.

"I—I don't know," you stutter, embarrassed, looking down at your hands.

The demon takes the few steps that remain between you, and a part of your brain attempts to convince you to turn and run. His hand comes to tilt your head back up, and he's so close you can barely think. To prove his status as an authentic crossroad demon, he lets his eyes shine bright red at you. You don't breathe, too terrified, nervous, and mesmerized. He knows what effect he has on you if the arrogant look on his face is anything to go by.