Satan's Little Helper

V - [ C H R I S T I A N A]

AT FIRST, a blinding light appears but it is quickly gone again, making me think that I had only imagined it. I throw the book at a corner of the room and let out a frustrated sigh. Stupid shit, I knew it was just a fraud. That good for nothing old book.

"So you want to be Satan's Little Helper, yes? I heard your call." I hear a husky voice say from behind me then, and being caught offguard, my shoulders instinctively stiffens.

"Maybe I do and maybe I don't," I involuntarily reply, "Who are you, anyway?" I ask as I turn my head towards the sound only to see no one, just what seems to be blood-red mist.

"I'm known by many names," I hear the voice from behind me again. I turn once more and he didn't just disappear this time; instead, he stays where he is. "The Devil, The King of Demons... Satan."

I stare at him, trying hard to keep my jaw from dropping onto the floor. "You're Satan?"

"Why, yes. Is there a problem?"

I shake my head slowly. "No, I just didn't expect you to be so... Young." And handsome, a voice from the back of my head adds. I tell myself to shut up, even though what the voice said is merely the truth. He is good-looking, I suppose, with his dark hair and fine jawline. You know, aside from the fact that he's Satan and all.

"Yes, well. Satans are immortals, you see. Our appearances stay the same as when we were crowned as the ruler of Hell—I was twenty-two, in my case."

"And you're now, what? Six hundred and sixty-six?" I deadpan, cocking an eyebrow. Is it weird that I'm already comfortable enough to insult my new acquaintance who may bring death upon me in a heartbeat? Totally. Is it weird that I literally give no shits at all? Absuh-freaking-lutely.

"As much as I despise just how rude you are, making fun of Hell's ruler, I must admit that I admire your attitude." He smiles wickedly for a second and it falls just as quick. "And no, I'm two hundred and thirty-four. I haven't become that old just yet."

"Still old," I mutter.

"I heard that," he shoots me a look before clearing his throat and regaining his composure. "Now enough of the pleasantries. What's your name?"

"I thought you'd at least know that."

"I have matters to handle in Hell, you know. I don't have time to stalk unimportant people." I roll my eyes while he smirks. Asshole. "But I have minions to do the job for me. You are Christiana Galron. You always were a curious little girl, and when no one answered your question, you decided to summon a demon who will—Lucifer—and here I am. You should feel honored."

"I'm the one offering help to you as Satan's Little Helper. You should feel honored."

"Feisty and bold," He nods in approval. "I've got a feeling you'd do even better as my right hand than I had thought you would.

"So, what? That's it? I'm your right hand already? That quick?" This time I can't help it. My jaws hang loose as I stare at him in surprise once more.

"Yes, I suppose you are. It would be fun, no? I might as well give you a shot; I've got nothing to lose." I say nothing, just continue staring at him in a confused manner. "What? Did you expect a blood oath and difficult trials in Hell?" I nod reluctantly and he laughs. "You watch too much movies, Christie. Speaking of your name..." He points at me accusingly. "We really should work on it if you are going to be my Little Helper."

I frown. "What's wrong with my name?"

"Well it's a fine name and all," He shrugs. "Just that it means follower of God. You see how ironic it sounds?"