Persuasion {The Devil You Know}

{ They always say the Devil you know is better than the one you don’t. Whoever said that clearly didn’t know Jaakobal. }

What happened to ambition? No one seems to have real goals anymore. People these days are satiated by the mundane and the meaningless, selling their souls for cars, fame, money. Things that are temporary, like they are. What will happen when they all inevitably die and hand over their soul to the scheming devil that bade them to forfeit their eternal ever-after for some shiny, momentary thing.

The Devils always came on our eighteenth birthday. Something about “the loss of innocence being the birth of a glorious, sinful life”, at least according to Jaakobal - my devil and thorn in my heel.

All of my friends had debated what they would sell their precious souls for. Some knew immediately. An impulse they’d later regret. A car they’d crash. Fame that would fade. Money that would be spent too quickly.

Some would try and hold out, but the devils always got their way sooner or later. Nasty, persuasive things. All except Jaakobal, however.

I had prepared for the day my devil would come, determined to outwit the beings that hung their horns on being charming, devious masterminds. I wouldn’t sell my soul for anything short of an eternal life, where I could do what I want, whenever I wanted. I would have no master, no debt to pay. I’d own my soul and I’d own eternity with it. See? That’s what ambition looks like.

But the day came and I wasn’t presented with a mischievous thing, no tricks or false promises. No honey-soaked words meant to deceive and convince. The day came and I got… Jaakobal. A slimy, nerve-wracked dreg of devildom. He couldn’t convince a dog to fetch a ball or a river to keep flowing.

I would prefer to best a real devil, but when life gives you lemons, you trick those lemons into giving you the keys to Hell.

- - -

“Elspeth Barr,” Jaakobal mused, “is such a pretty name.” An extravagantly adorned fountain pen tumbled about his crimson fingers. “But I think it’d be even pr–”

“For the thousandth time, I’m not going to sign a paper because you think my name is prettier when it’s written down,” I interrupted, my eyes rolling so far back I could almost see Jaakobal lounging across the armchair behind me. “And it’s Ellie. It’s been three years, you’re never going to get on my good side if you keep using my full name, Jaako.”

“S-sorry,” Jaakobal apologized, the pen slipping from his fingertips and clattering to the floor. “There’s power in a name though, you know. You can control a devil with their name. That’s why we have six of them and keep them secret. Humans only have two, what a shame. You all should add more, it makes the signatures prettier too.”

“Three.”

“What?”

“Humans have three names, usually.”

“What? Since when? What’s yours?”

“Like I’d tell you.”

“Tell meeee,” Jaakobal pleaded, a whiny and annoying tone that screeched from between red lips and pointed teeth, “Please? Please? Please? Please?”

“Jaakobal!” I shouted, rubbing my forehead with my finger tips.

“Pleeeeeaaaaassee?”

“Fine! But all you get is that my mother gave me the same one she had. I always hated that my father named me Elspeth. But at least my middle name is from her,” I explained, tiring of Jaakobal’s pestering.

“Fine - I’ll take that,” Jaakobal lifted himself from the rocking armchair without an ounce of grace, nearly falling as he went to retrieve his pen. 

Devils were supposed to be charming and suave. Alluring, even. It felt odd to be disappointed by your would-be soul captor being so pitiable, but here we are.

“You really hate us, don’t you?” Jaakobal asked.

“Yep.”

“Just because Judith sold? I know you and your mother were close, but everyone sells at some point, you know. It took the big man to do it, which should be a point of pride for you. I could name on one hand the amount of people who resisted for the entirety of their lives. And most of those had heart attacks right when one of us appeared. One time, this guy ran away - went straight into the street. Got hit by a bus.” Jaakobal shrugged. “Point is - no need to be so angry about it, everyone gives in.”

“And how many contracts have you gotten signed, hmm?” I asked, venom leaking into my tone. 

Jaakobal grimaced, shoulders shrinking inward. If his skin wasn’t so red I think I could’ve seen a flush of embarrassment as he passed by me, now pacing circles through the crowded rooms of the house.

“My mother may have outlasted devil after devil before falling to Baalzan, but the one thing she gave me..," I continued, digging through the papers and folders and drawers of my mother's writing desk, “...was an opportunity.” 

Somewhere in this hellhole of a house was a secret. A tool to use against the incessant games the devils play with mortal souls. 

Jaakobal was right about one thing, my mother did sell her soul. It had made it so much harder when the cancer had done its worst. We knew the end was coming. All the regrets come flooding in when you realize you signed away your afterlife. Even on her deathbed, my mother didn’t tell me what deal she had struck. She gave me something else. The piece that completed the puzzle I had been working towards. With her last words, she had told me that the key to Hell was hidden in her house.

In the next room over, Jaakobal tripped over something, slamming into the floor. “Jesus! Ellie, your mother was a hoarder.” The slight sound of singing skin followed the shout. “Agh! No, no, no - I didn’t mean to say his name. Please - stop!”

He appeared back in the door frame, leaning his weight against it, chest heaving up and down, sizzling pockmarks fading from his face and arms. “Have you ever considered that she was delirious? You’ve been scouring this house for a year. This must be the tenth time you’ve looked through that desk.”

“You’re just saying that because you don’t want me to find it,” I shot back, pushing my hair behind my ear to see more clearly.

“Truthfully, I don’t think I’d mind. The Devils are meaner to me than you are. It would serve some of them right. Especially Baalzan.” Jaakobal chewed on his blackened fingernails, his sharp teeth filing them to a point.

I was surprised by the open admission, though I could’ve guessed he wasn't the loyal type. He was the most spineless devil I’d ever seen. 

I sat back in a huff, my searches yielding nothing but medical records, receipts, and all sorts of irrelevant documentation stuffed into every nook and cranny of the desk. “Where the hell is this thing..” I sighed, laying backward and spreading myself across the dingy wooden floor.

“Could be down under, you know,” Jaakobal murmured, pointing downward with a freshly chewed thumb.

My brow furrowed as I shot him a questioning glance. The floor groaned as I sat up, propping myself on my hands. Under, huh? The underside of the desk was relatively simple. Two sets of three drawers on either side and a tray that slid out from the middle, bracketed into the underside of the desk.

“I meant Hell, but knock yourself out,” Jaakobal chortled. 

I leaned forward for a closer look at the brackets. They were heavy and double layered - a second set attached to the bottom of the thick tray. It slid out with a squealing metallic noise, revealing a writing platform with a slight indentation to hold pen and ink. It was stained but otherwise featureless.

My fingertips dug around the edges of the tray before reaching into the narrow crack at the back of the tray where it connected to the main desk. Raised against the back edge was a latch. 

I flipped it, dropping down a hidden section built into the bottom of the tray. 

“Well, I’ll be blessed,” Jaakobal whispered, pushing off the door frame and taking a few steps into the room.

Hidden in the compartment was a singular rolled up piece of paper. I couldn’t help but laugh. 

“This is it,” I murmured, unrolling the paper and reading its contents. I had worked so hard for this moment, painstakingly so. I had collected all the other pieces and now it was time.

“What is it?” Jaakobal asked, leaning over to try and read over my shoulder.

I grinned. “Baalzan’s sixth name.” 

- - -

The arrangement took a long time. Frankly, I’m surprised it was as effortless as it was on my part. Maybe Jaakobal really was in favor of the plan.

All manner of sequences rattled through my mind, conditions and counters, questions and responses, plans and backup plans. I stepped off the bus, hopping over a large oblong puddle to the safety of the sidewalk.

This wasn’t an ideal part of town, but what else would one expect when meeting the tyrant king of Hell. Neon lights and tinted windows adorned deviant storefronts, patterning the street in a weave of color and sin.

Ephraim’s Jazz Club was tucked away in an alley behind the menagerie of the red light district. A large man, dressed fully in red and black, searched my bag and patted me down - a little too thoroughly. He grinned an uneven smile at me as he finished.

The inside was dimly lit, burning sconces on the walls enveloping the club in a fluctuant orange light. Waitresses in elegant evening wear flitted from table to table, delivering drinks, drugs, and more with lavish flair. Red curtains framed a stage in the far corner where a band played haunting, swinging melodies.

“Ellie Barr.” A voice, deep and musical, called to me from the back corner of the room. Tall and dark, Baalzan lounged atop an ornate couch. Long, slender fingers beckoned me over to his table, where Jaakobal and a winged cambion waited alongside him.

This was a devil. Attractive and cunning with a smile you could fall for and a body you could lust after. Mouth dripping with honeyed promises. But behind his yellow eyes was only untethered evil. 

“Thank you for meeting with me Baalzan.” I forced out, taking a seat opposite the three devils.

“No need for thanks, my dear. This isn’t the first time Jaakobal has needed me to close a deal,” Baalzan laughed, fixing Jaakobal with a condescending stare. “Now, what in all of Earth and Hell can I provide you with?”

The cambion to his left fidgeted as though she were trying to speak but couldn’t separate her lips.

“I want to rule,” I said plainly.

“Mm,” Baalzan hummed. “City? Country? Continent?”

“Hell,” I corrected with a smile.

Baalzan’s perfectly trimmed eyebrows raised. A cackle, deep and boisterous, erupted from him. “Your ambition is commendable, I must admit,” he said, wiping a tear from his eye with the tip of a sharp, black fingernail.

“I’m glad you think so. I think I'll make a much more suitable ruler,” I teased, sitting back against the leather of the chair and kicked my feet up onto the table, rattling the devils’ drinks softly.

The grin disappeared from Baalzan’s face. “And what will you offer in return? Such a request must be met with...significant buying power.”

“In return, I give you nothing. Perhaps, if I'm so moved, I’ll spare you along with Jaakobal when I command all devils to throw themselves into the Styx,” I offered. 

Jaakobal squirmed across the table.

Baalzan’s smile returned, but darker. More menacing. “I’m afraid I have to decline. I do, however, have a counter offer.”

I lifted a brow. “I’m not really looking for negotiation. I have something important to you.”

“As do I.” Baalzan swung his arm around his cambion companion. 

I examined the devil, taking in its leathery wings and scarred skin. Behind the red tinted skin and yellow eyes...was my mother. My heart wrenched. She had been tortured and from the looks of the scars, it had been going on for a long time. Burns and blisters stippled shades of crimson and burgundy across her skin. Her mouth had been sealed shut.

“You bastard,” I spat. “What have you done to her?”

“Whatever I felt like doing,” Baalzan shrugged. “My offer is a simple one. Sell me your soul and in return, I’ll free your mother from my tyranny.”

“Let my mother go and I won’t kill you here and now,” I threatened. I retrieved the names from my memory and kept them at the ready, like pulling back the hammer of a pistol.

Baalzan stood, lifting my mother by her neck. Wings flapped as she tried to scream through sealed lips. “No deal? Then perhaps I’ll rid myself of her after all.”

“Baalzan.”

“Yes?”

“Ichorus.”

“How do you-”

“Lazneth.”

“STOP.” He dropped my mother back to the couch and held his hands outstretched.

“Gorrum.” I stood and backed away to the other side of the chair. “Azulableth.”

“I will end you!” Baalzan screamed, the floor of the club shaking with each syllable. He rushed toward me.

“Lucifer.”

He froze, dagger-like fingernails poised to slit my throat.

“I demand you to release my mother,” I commanded, as Jaakobal retrieved an ornate pen and little black book from Baalzan's pocket.

"You - little - shit," Baalzan stuttered, limbs still frozen by the command.

Jaakobal pocketed the book and scrambled to present an infernal document, hurrying to the table where he spread it out for Baalzan to sign.

“I - will - never,” Baalzan coughed out, but his hand moved without his permission. It scribbled an infernal signature that fused into the page with fire and blood.

“Very good, now, Ms. Barr, if you wouldn’t mind signing your full name,” Jaakobal slid the paper to my mother, who read it quickly and sliced her finger, signing her name in blood.

As the ink fused into the page, the wings dissolved from her back, falling in patches of flesh and ichor. Her skin returned to its olive tone. The cambion fell away and she was my mother once again.

“My darling Ellie,” she cried, tears of joy budding on her face. “You found it.”

“They'll never hurt you - or anyone - ever again,” I said, smiling sweetly to my dear mother.

“Are you sure you want to do this, Ellie? If you command him to hand over Hell to you, you’ll turn into a devil yourself,” Jaakobal warned, clutching my mothers contract in his hands.

“A price worth paying,” I declared.

Jaakobal smiled.

“Baalzan Ichorus Lazneth Gorrum Azulableth Lucifer,” I recited, ”I command you to forfeit the reins of Hell to me, at which time you will dissolve from Earth and Hell and any existence in between.” 

Baalzan howled as he was petrified in crystalline blood and shards of brimstone. He shattered into a million particles, infusing me with power and authority. My skin shifted hue, horns pierced my flesh where my hair met my forehead.

“I can’t believe it worked,” Jaakobel huffed.

“Honestly, neither can I,” I admitted.

“Oh, not your plan.” Jaakobal stood straight, his oily skin now clear and brilliant. He seemed to be taller, more attractive now. “My plan.”

“Your plan?” I asked, my brow attempting to furrow around my fledgling horns.

“You want to know what your mother sold her soul for?” He asked, an innocent smile painted across his red face.

“I...Mom?” I looked to my mother, who brushed herself off and stood straight.

“Don’t let him taunt you. He can’t hurt you, Ellie. I made a deal with Baalzan,” my mother explained, “One that made it so no devil could make you sign a contract.”

“And none of us ever did,” Jaakobal pointed out. “But that made it so much more challenging.” He grinned wide and unsettling. “I was surprised when you found the other names, but when I found out your dear mother made another deal to give up ten years of her life to learn the sixth, I couldn't resist. I didn’t think I’d end up ruling Hell though.”

“Well I'm certainly never signing anything now. And you’re not ruling Hell, Jaako. I am. God, you always were an idiot,” I scoffed. "Now, I order you to disappear, return to Hell and never show yourself to another mortal."

“Tsk - tsk. You never listen. The power is in the name. Baalzan knew all of our names, it's how he ruled." Jaakobal plucked Baalzan's little black book from his pocket and shook it in the air. "And you’re a devil now, aren't you, Elspeth?” Jaakobal lectured, flinging open my mother’s freedom contract with his other hand. “What was that you told me once, you hated the name your father gave you, but loved the name your mother had given you?”

Oh no.

“Elspeth.” Jaakobal said.

“No - please, Jaakobal. Don't-”

“Marie.”

“STOP.” I surged toward the devil. My mother cried out.

“Barr.”

And then I froze.