“I’ve never seen you scared…”

I thought that that explosion of light would be the last before everything winked out. And I thought that it would all wink out with you right next to me. I thought that that was the end. Not of me and you, but of everything. In a way it was. Or maybe it was the end of nothing. I don’t have an answer, so I lift my chin at you and narrow my eyes, smirking softly. I don’t know when I figured it out, but I know it makes you crazy. Not that that matters. You’re already excited. I can feel it. I can taste it. I’m breathing it in. You’ve never seen me scared, but I’ve never seen you so excited. Your eyes give me a once over, smiling like you’ve accomplished something impossible. Like that moment I held on to you a little tighter, the moment the lights sped by too fast and I thought that it was the end, ignited something you’d been waiting to set ablaze. You tip your head back then shake it in disbelief.

“Oh my god. I fucking love it.”

....

“Ava.”

He stood, dipping his head as a gentleman might.

“Welcome, my dear.”

The only response I could muster was a stare, wary as I was of his courtesy.

“Please,” he went on, “take a seat—and allow me to pour you a drink. I suspect you could use one at the moment.”

A beat passed in silence. When his gaze didn’t waver, I gave a curt nod. The corners of his mouth lifted in answer.

As I strode slowly forward, my footfalls echoing through the room, he turned to his sideboard, decanting a clear, amber liquid into a pair of tumblers. Once I came to a halt in front of his desk, he held one of them out to me. I accepted the proffered glass with a surprisingly steady hand.

“So,” I managed, sinking into the chaise he’d made available and crossing my ankles in a motion that reeked of childhood conditioning. “Am I to understand that this is Hell? Because, if so, it would seem I’ve been grievously misled.”

Lucifer chuckled as he took his seat, eyes full of amusement. “You don’t have to understand anything, my dear. You’re here, regardless."

“Unless, of course, this is some sort of dream or hallucination on my part,” I countered.

“I think the length of time you’ll be spending here will soon disabuse you of that notion,” he told me, utterly matter-of-fact.

I hummed in what was neither an acceptance nor a denial of his words—merely an acknowledgement.

“Did you really think,” he asked, “that after all you’ve done, you’d be able to escape my notice?"

My answer was wry.

“I’d hoped so.”

He laughed—oh, how he laughed.

“Ah, yes, I should have known. Hope,” he mused, “the greatest vice of them all.”

There was a pause.

“Pardon me?”

“You heard me,” he insisted. “Hope, in my opinion, is the deadliest of sins. In fact, that conviction was once widely agreed upon, though it was lost, I think, over the ages. The Greeks tried to pass it down, you know.”

I quirked a brow, intrigued in spite of myself.

“Tell me: in your lifetime, did you happen across the myth of Pandora’s Box?”

My eyes widened of their own accord.

“You did,” he surmised, approval flitting through his gaze. “Then you know what was last to escape it.”

"I do, yes."

Lucifer smiled.

"Nothing, Ava," he told me, "has greater potential for destruction than hope. Hope drives people to lengths that no other vice could rival—not fear, envy, greed, not even hatred. Hope is just as likely to bring out the worst of someone as it is to inspire that person's best. And when it is false, hope is all the more deadly for the devastation it will wreak.

"But you knew that already." He paused. "I daresay you know it better than anyone."

As his lips pulled back ever so slightly, Lucifer's teeth glistened. He looked to my reaction with relish.

I pursed my lips, deliberating, and took a sip from my glass to stall. The flavour of the drink took me by surprise, all tart and heady as it flowed over my tongue.

Apples, I realized.

It tastes of apples.

And then I knew. I knew he knew.

I set my glass down on the desk and promptly lounged back into my chair, dropping all pretenses with a lazy, decadent smirk.

"Let us dispense of this game, then," I chided him, allowing fondness to seep freely into my voice. "How long have you known, old friend?"

He leaned forward, eyes as startlingly yellow as the day we'd first met, all those years ago, albeit in different forms.

In his regard, amid all of the usual mischief and scheming, a spark of warmth winked at me.

"Longer than you might expect," he answered, grinning. "You weren't exactly hiding, my dear.

"Welcome back, Eve. I've missed you terribly."

....

#challenge

#prose

#shortstory

#thedevil

#lucifer

#writing

Somewhere, lurking unnoticed,

absent of light or truth

is born a dark and ominous seed.

In that place

(small, hidden, neglected)

grows a fungus

of fear that feeds on the fodder

of fairytales and falsehoods.

It spreads easily from one,

to another,

and so on.

It's fears fall on deaf ears.

And so the Devil smiled.

The world is white.

The winter frost is cold and biting and our faces are stained red as though we’re drunk. She’s not, I assume, as she’s been nursing her drink for the past half hour while her eyes water. The wind is bitter, and yet we trudge along.

She talks and I listen. Something about organic chemistry and Hess’s Law, and I remember it from way back when. When the worksheets piled up, and my grades were impeccable, and I was merely fifteen. Ah, the wondrous age of fifteen.

College life was dull, but nothing compared to home. My father was a teacher while my mother was lead in financial services. Mother worked from home and was always on the phone. Cooked, cleaned, hoped for release and never got it. My father worked hours away. He left at sunrise and arrived home at sunset, his forehead creased, his wire glass frames slipping off the peak of his nose. Usually exhausted, he was never up to having a conversation. Not when I won some award or the other, not when I graduated high school at 16. Not when I fell in love and moved three thousand miles away. Not when my mother passed away. It’s alright. He was tired and exhausted. The funeral was a quiet ordeal with seven people. I packed for three days after while my father drank himself into oblivion. I moved on that Saturday.

”...and that’s why Hess’s law is the epitome of Chemistry and all its ideologies! I mean could you believe it when Professor Summers even attempted to contradict that statement? I swear sometimes the T.A. is better, and that poor thing looks like a deer caught in headlights ninety percent of the time, dontcha think?”

Dr. Summers is an idiot. I voice the certain opinion, and Carol laughs. Her teeth shimmer the color of the snow glistening around us, her nose the color of her bright wool scarf. We knitted them together last winter when Carol turned twenty-one. She was invited elsewhere, a pub, to grab a drink with her graduate friends. I couldn’t go, so neither did she. We drank cider and knit until our teeth rotted and we ran out of yarn. I think that’s when it all started. Damn scarves.

I can see it. The building looms over the garden; an ugly spot in the midst of a winter wonderland. All good things come to an end I suppose. Carol hasn’t stopped chippering but then that wasn’t anything new. She looked up, her long eyelashes coated in snow fluff, and lifted her heels so that she was on her tiptoes. I looked down, brought my hands up to cup her jaw, and leaned down.

She giggled into my lips, and the world slowed down. The ice and snow thawed, and somewhere below us, the devil was smiling. Laughing. Rolling on the floor with tears in its eyes. It was just you and me up against the world. And we were happy, oh so happy.

I love you.

So why?

Why as the memory fades, and the ghost of your lips leave mine, am I alone again? As you rest there, with your eyes closed and not a care in the world. As the room closes in, and the nurses come and go again. Why?

I love you, forever and always.

It's white again. Oh, so white.

i am looking at the accounting text book

its nothing fancy but its pretty tough

i have to calculate profit and revenues

i cannot think about loses and debts

as i wont be much of a businesswoman

i look outside, the weather is so cool

the trees dont move at all, so very still

i look at my text book and imagine

i guess imagination is very very rare

it lets you access the most expensive

dreams ever that each one is unique

i want to be a CEO, a woman CEO

wearing a short black skirt, very short

with a silk white blouse, very tight

wearing black high heels, tip tap

with a leather briefcase in my hands

and as i walk proudly in my building

many staff greet me, “Goodmorning!”

i greet, “Have a terrific day, folks!”

many wave at me happily, cheerfully

i say to all my staff, “Is he here? is he?

the CEO of computer chips? Mr Bic?

from London?” they nod and i hurry

i hurry into my cabin and i see he is

sitting inside, patiently waiting, oh

he looked younger than i imagined

he looked like he was thirty five

i close the door and i greet him!

“Good morning, Mr Bic! sorry, if i

have delayed! my neighbours cat

got stuck in my garage! i had to call

my old neighbour who has fever!”

Mr Bic nods quietly and stands up

to shake my hand, i shiver as his

touch is so silken, so sharp and so

hard, i gulp and sit down, impressed

suddenly my teacher shouts at me

i look at the blackboard blankly

what, didnt i calculate the profit?

my teacher shakes his big head

i quickly read the question and

i begin to calcuate and somewhere

back in my brain is the urge that

i kiss Mr Bic, his warm hands all

over my body, oh, on the CEO’s

slinky clad body, i sneeze and all

look at me and see my red ears

i smile and i say to my dear self

“Mr Bic is all mine, so much profit!”

’Twas almost time to head home when there was a knock at the CEO’s office. The young charming gentleman stared at the lady who stood in front of his door. She had horns on her head. Her skin was somewhat like silver & seemed to be on fire. And her hair too, it looked like a torch. The guy could hardly utter even one syllable. Who was this fiery devilish being?

Ijan: Ur,...I am- eh~ Ijan. Who might you be? I wasn’t expecting anyone else to be at the office at this time.

Daemi: The name’s Daemi. May I come in? (Daemi inquired as she gave a devilish grin).

Ijan gulped and adjusted his tie. Then cleared his throat, as he led Daemi to one of the chairs that was beside his office desk.

Instead of sitting down on the chair, Daemi sat across Ijan’s desk. She sat crossed legged and winked at Ijan. The poor fella was smitten like a kitten. He couldn’t resist Daemi’s charm. But if only he knew not to fall for this lady, for she was the goddess of the Underworld.

Daemi smiled and clapped her hands. O, how she had missed getting to fool around on Earth with these mere mortal brings. Ijan smiled in return. He walked towards Daemi and leaned in for a kiss.

At that point, it was too late for Ijan to escape. Daemi placed her hands on his shoulders and stared deeply into Ijan’s eyes. Ijan trembled. A flash of all his sins, his wrongs, faults, and other misconduct came like a crazy migraine & filled his mind. Daemi cackled. This never got old for her, even aft’r so plenty centuries.

Ijan’s soul escaped from his body. He looked back at his lifeless physical form now laying on his office floor. If only he hadn’t opened the door. Maybe he’d have had a chance to escape from Daemi.

#DAEMI

He peeled himself from the wall

in the momentary calm...

two long nails ripping through Time

rocking Life back and forth...

in sing song, like a see saw

he smiled darkly to perceive...

this newborn sinner still asleep.

#MakingTheDevilSmile #Challenge

Name?

Dylan Tyler Horton

Age?

Eighteen years old

Date of birth?

November twenty-fourth, nineteen ninety-nine

Crime committed?

Treason.

Reason to commit?

Life.

Elaborate?

No.

That is an order, elaborate.

No.

Elaborate, unless you want your sentence to be worse.

What can you do to me that I havent experienced?

This is Hell, theres plenty we can do.

Do it then.

A challenger? Heiness will be pleased.

I love pleasing.

Any final requests before you walk though the gate?

Yes.... Go to Hell.

You're already here.

*Inhales* *exhales* Home is where the heart is.

And where is your heart?

Here.

And thus the Devil smiled... For he has another challenger to break.

The devil always answers when I call him in the night and he’s not the worst company when the monsters lurk inside. He wraps me in his arm that are darker than coal and tells me many stories of people long ago. He holds me when I cry brushing away my tears. As he whispers in my ear “don’t worry child I’m here.”