Evil with a D

Prologue

     Image: Stacy
---------------------

               It had been a long day of the worst sort and Stacy's night hadn't ended any better than the day had started. She had checked the mail on the way to work only to find a shut off notice for her water and electric and a last warning for rent. The day had only gotten better when she'd gone in to work. In her mind, her actions were completely justified. Working in a strip club naturally meant getting leered at and hit on on a nightly basis, but one particular man wasn't taking a hint. Perhaps it had been her mood, but rather than just ignoring it like she normally did, she wound up purposefully kicking him in the face with her heel and successfully breaking his nose.
               This wasn't the first time she'd lashed out at a customer, but it was the first time she'd become violent with one and her boss had decided she was too much of a liability. With any luck, she'd be served papers within a few days informing her that the slimy bastard was pressing charges. The thought of doing worse to the next person to piss her off was too strong to brush aside so public transportation wasn't an option. Walking home seemed like a good idea in her rage, but now that she had four blocks left to go, she was regretting her decision. Her heels were killing her feet and she was sure there was blood involved. A cab wasn't promising either, but the back alley she decided to turn down would cut the rest of her walk down by at least a block.                 New York City could be treacherous even in the best of times, particularly in her part of town, but more so at night. The deeper into the alley she got, the more uncomfortable she felt, almost as though someone were watching. A hand reached up to tuck her blonde hair behind her ears as her blue eyes darted around, checking for any sign of a person in the shadows.
               There was a bang at the far end of the alley causing her to startle to a stop. Shadows starting at the end of the alley slowly began closing in from both ends. The world started to darken further as they moved in around her until all that could be seen was the ground that was lit from a light above. Though there was no clear indication of what or where that light came from. At the other end of the alley in the darkness, an old looking wood desk piled with papers on one side started to slowly fade in. More lights started to come to life with a click,  making a lit path leading the way to it. A small light looking like it'd been embedded into the desk clicked on illuminating a name plate on the end of the desk with the name Asmodeus etched into the bronze.
               At first, Stacy wondered if she wasn't losing her mind. When people become angry enough, it's not unheard of, but that usually ends in a dead body lying in a pool of blood and a rather gruesome end to the victim at that. It was the name plate that triggered her out of her confusion, almost as though the truth had dawned on her. Asmodeus. She hadn't been to church since she graduated high school, but that was one of many names they had given to the Devil.
               She didn't remember being hit with a blunt object on the back of her head or being shot or even stabbed for that matter, but no one could say for certain if one remembers their own death.  There was an echo of footsteps from behind her, slowing growing closer and louder with each step. She was just checking herself for any torn clothes or possible blood when she heard the footsteps, causing her to freeze in place. She's not alone. Of course, she couldn't be. There's a desk with a name plate on it and it had to belong to someone. From the darkness a man started to fade in, his black curly hair just reaching nape of his neck. His ice blue eyes, so pale that were almost white, seemed to glow. He wore what looked like an old style rat pack suite with a blood red tie and expensive looking red Italian leather shoes.
               He smiled when he saw her, flashing a view of white teeth and fangs. The sight of the man confirmed what she had been thinking. There was no possible way he was human. Not with eyes and fangs like that. No contacts or cosmetic surgery could be that good. "Hello darling Stacy," he purred out, stepping up to her and giving a slight bow. "I'd ask about how your evening is going, but it seems like a worthless question. You wouldn't have found your way here if it was one of the best nights of your life," he said, reaching out and taking her hand. She blinked at him as he took her hand, not knowing what else to do as she watched him. He gave a light kiss to her knuckles, keeping his eyes on her before he straightened, the sound of an old style grandfather clock ticking away from somewhere in darkness. "Come, take a seat," He said, motioning to the chair that appeared in front of the desk. "We have much to talk about.
               Well this is the perfect fucking end to the perfect fucking day, she thought bitterly as she silently sat down in the chair, the hair on the back of her neck feeling like it was standing on end. Freaked out as she may be, her irritation from life seemed to have carried over into death because before she could think about what she was saying, the words came flying out of her mouth. "Look, I know you're the Devil, I know I must be dead, so if we can just skip the whole fuck long list of everything I did wrong in my life that led me here instead of Heaven and you just send me to be tortured, that would be fucking great. No, it hasn't been one of the best nights of my life and it only seems to be getting worse and I'm really not in the goddamned mood to be told why I'm such a fucking horrible person." Well, she knew one reason she was there. Maybe God really did take offense to people using His name in vain and it wasn't just something you were supposed to do out of respect.
               He raised a brow at her as she started her little monologue speech. A smile formed as he turned and started to move toward the large overstuffed chair that had appeared on the other side of the desk. He eased into it, smiling as he watched her. "Now now, that's not why I'm here Stacy," he said, giving a small dismissive wave of his hand. "Truthfully. You're still alive and breathing. Think of this as the space between worlds," he said as he sat forward, leaning on his desk a little. "No Stacy, I'm here to make a deal with you," he said, smiling as he watched her. He reached out and pulled over one of the papers, turning it so it faced her. The word "Contract" was written over the top of the paper in neat calligraphic hand writing. The rest of the contract though was too small and hard to read. Though that was done on purpose so no one could see what exactly was written. "All I need is a signature, Stacy. Just a small one." he said as he held out a odd pen. One designed to prick the writers finger and turn their blood into ink.
               "Think of it. Everything you've ever wanted with a swipe of a card with no limit. The future you've always wanted, your dream fiancée. A life in a penthouse mansion with the job you've always dreamed of. Doesn't it all sound so perfect? And like I said. The only thing I need is a not so important signature. What's the harm in that right?" He flashed her a quick smile, his teeth showing for a second again. "Come now Stacy. It's not like there's anything left for you now, correct? You were just fired from a crappy job, your water shut off, And your boyfriend." he tsked and shook his head.
               Stacy narrowed her eyes, still not convinced that she wasn't lying unconscious in the alley she had just been walking down. If she wasn't dead, then there was a good chance someone either drugged her, knocked her out, or she had completely lost her mind. Might as well go with it, even if it was some weird dream. "Right...what's the catch?" she asked, leaning forward and narrowing her eyes. "And don't tell me there isn't one because there always is."
               He raised a brow at her before a small chuckle left him. "True. Of course there's a catch, but there always is. Just as you said. I won't lie about that." he leaned forward a little. "Your soul. That's always the price. I'm surprised you don't know this. What are you using it for anyway?" he asked as he held the pen a little closer. "Really? What is the importance of a soul anyway? No one ever really says. It's not like it's your passport into heaven. It's your life that dictates that. So asking for your soul is like asking for a twenty to give to a homeless person."
               At his speech, Stacy's eyes narrowed even more. "No, your soul isn't your passport to Heaven and yes, it's your life that dictates where you go when you die. I'm a fuck up and I'll admit that, but if you give your soul to the Devil, you're damned to Hell regardless of how you live. Every kid forced to go to Sunday School and Vacation Bible School against their will knows that."
               His brow lifted before he chuckled. "Clever little human you are. Not many people actually care much for religion these days. It must be your parents who forced it on you. And who's to say that's the truth?" he leaned back on his chair, pen settling on the desk. "Haven't you ever heard that there's a loophole in every contract? You have your whole life to find it and get out of it when you're ready." he pointed out. "So it would seem that even if you did sign, got everything you ever wanted, you could still back out of the deal with all your newly acquired possessions intact and leave me fuming because you bested me."
               "No, really? What fucking part of being forced to go to Sunday School and VBS did you miss?" Stacy snapped, rolling her eyes. "I still don't see how finding the loophole could possibly make up for me signing your goddamn contract in the first place. It's not like I don't have any other options either!" She had one last option, but it was one she'd sworn she'd never take. Her parents would be waiting with a litany of 'I told you so's.
               He dropped his shoulders and smiled a little. "Well it's no consequence to me. I'll just let you go back then. Back to your now jobless life. To a boyfriend who likes to cheat and to an apartment that you're about to be evicted from. Your future is pretty much nonexistent now right? You'll never be able to get the job you want, or  boyfriend you've always dreamed of having.  The penthouse apartment that overlooks the city, turning it into the night sky when the sun sets. You could always move back into your parents home. I'm sure they'd enjoy having you living in your old room again." he stood and motioned over her shoulder. The black behind her started to fade away, showing the alley that he'd taken her from. Beyond that was the street were a car was passing by.
               Stacy was still angry and rightfully so, her arms crossed over her chest now. She glanced behind her as the alleyway came into view once more. What if this was her last shot? If there was a loophole, surely she could find it in time and she would kill to not have to return to her parents' house in New Jersey. "Fine." she finally mumbled, deciding that a deal with the Devil was actually preferable to facing her family.
               He smiled as he set the contract in front of her again, leaning in with his hand resting on the desk as he held out a pen for her. "There might be a little sting, but you can understand that it needs a signature of blood. Legally binding that way," he flashed her a smile as he waited for Stacy to take the pen and sign away her life to him. Or at least that's what she thought she was doing, not like he'd be the one to point out the truth to her after all. Once she'd taken the pen from his hand he reached out and pointed to the bottom of the page where a signature line slowly formed, burning into the paper as if fire licked at it from under. "Your life changes the minute you cross your last T."
               "Cute," she muttered dryly before eyeing the pen nervously. After a moment, however, she finally picked it up. There wasn't a sting at first, so she thought perhaps he was bluffing. It wasn't until the nib touched the paper that she felt it and she visibly winced, letting out a low hiss. "A little sting my ass..." she grumbled before signing her name and dropping the pen as quickly as possible.
               "Well do you expect me to say how bad it really hurts? You'd be surprised on how many people hesitate when they hear 'a little sting'," he said, letting out a snort as he took the parchment away quickly, grinning at her as he lifted his hand. The paper rolled up suddenly, sealing with a red ribbon before the whole thing disappeared with a puff of smoke. "It's done," he said as he set the pen back in its holder before rounding the desk and holding out his hand for her to take while the other motioned back toward the street he'd plucked her from. "Now go back to your life Stacy. Everything is about to change for you. You don't want to miss it."
               "If you're lying, I'm going to hunt you down and drown you in holy water." she warned before standing up and looking back toward the street. This was probably one of the most stupid decisions she's ever made in her life, but she was desperate.
               His chuckle filled the space as he nudged her away from the desk. "You'll just have to wait and see." he said, smirking as his arms crossed over his chest. The darkness seemed to close in on itself, the man fading along with his desk and the light on it. Soon only the alley was left, leaving Stacy exactly where he'd plucked her from.
               A taxi pulled up to the curb at the street, the window rolling down as the driver leaned over. "Hey! You the lady that called for a ride?" he called out as a frown formed on his face.