Deal with the Devil

       This is way more difficult than I remember… Raquel thought.

           Despite the internet, Raquel always preferred the library. She liked the feel of the book in her hands… hand, as she read. Also, she doesn’t want to buy a book only to not like it. The library was a good medium. Plus, the memories, it was hard not to come back.

           So here Raquel was, recently missing an arm, and the only way to get her mind off the tragedy was the library. “Come on, damn shelves,” she mumbled to herself, “damn my five-foot two ass.”

           When she finally grabbed onto a book off the shelf, she lost her balance and fell backwards into the shelf behind her. Fuck was all she thought as she hit her head on one of the lower shelves. Luckily, none of the books above fell on her but the pain in her skull was ripe and Raquel couldn’t make a sound.

           AAAAAAAAAAAAAAGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHH, she mentally screamed.

           With a muffled groan she sat up and examined the book she grabbed. It wasn’t the right book. Mother- she stopped her thought as she examined the book. It was small and nothing was written on the black leather. She checked the inside for a little bar code of a card, but there was nothing.

           “Who the fuck is leaving their Death Note in the library?” she muttered.

           She briefly flipped through the book, everything was written in red ink and in very cursive handwriting. My worst nemesis… one of my worst nemesis, hella fancy handwriting! At several points in the book, she tried to read what was written down, but Raquel could barely get back the first three words.

           Should I put it back? Someone obviously left it here, God forbid this is like, some sort of Eldredge Horror type thing.

           With a sigh, Raquel was about to put the book back when she stopped on a page. A page she could understand. A drawing, instructions, deals with the devil. She felt her heart stop, was this for real? If it was, was she stupid enough to try it? Yes.

           She shoved the little book into her bag and checked out a different book, the one she actually came here for. Don’t be suspicious, she told herself. A part of her expected those alarms to go off once she left the building. But it didn’t. She looked at the stump where her left arm used to be and took the subway home.

           When she got home she was relieved to find that Eriko wasn’t home. Oh yeah, she’s at her parents. Shit, I gotta do this today then.

           Raquel scrambled around the apartment for the materials she needed. She didn’t have paint for the pentagram, so she used silly string that she got from Michael. She didn’t have real candles, so she used those tiny LED ones. And she didn’t have the blood of a priest but she did have lambs blood she stored when she made lambchops the week prior.

           Raquel paced around the bedroom going over the book again. “Okay, pentagram? Check. Candles? Check. Priest blood… check? Alright. Now I need something to offer it, and there’s no way I’m selling my soul. Time to bring out the big guns.”

           She put the book down on the bed and opened her and Eriko’s closet. She crouched down and moved some boxes around until she pulled out a Styrofoam cooler with a little biohazard sticker on the lid. With a deep breath she opened the lid and took out its contents, placing the item in the middle of the pentagram.

           “If I accidently summon an evil ghost that kills me then I probably deserved it,” she said to herself, “alright. Here we go…”

           Turning off the light and manually turning on the tiny LED candles Raquel sat on her knees near the pentagram. Memorizing what the book had said she began the next step. Taking the jar of lambs’ blood, she poured a tiny bit out onto the item in the middle of the pentagram and then a little on her arm stump. With a gulp, she drank the rest.

           . . .

           Silence.

           This is bullshit, I’m going to get dragged down to hell six decades too early, aren’t I?

           “What the fuck!”

           The LED candles spontaneously combusted and the lambs blood evaporated off of the item in the pentagram. The small amount of blood floated up and up, he flames and smoke surrounding the tiny bit of blood until it formed into a… sheep man?

           It floated there for a second, looking around the room and at Raquel before looking down. “Is that an arm?”

           Indeed, the ‘item’ Raquel pulled from the Styrofoam cooler was her decapitated arm. “Yeah? Is that… is that a problem?”

           “How did you screw up the ritual that badly you summoned me?” He scolded.

           “I’m sorry? Who the fuck are you?”

           “My name is Vincent,” said the sheep.

           “I’m assuming you aren’t the devil?”

           “Well, kind of. I’m like, his secretary,” Vincent the sheep explained, “before you ask, yes, the devil is that busy that he needs a secretary. Now why the hell did you summon me with an arm?”

           “I’ll be honest I wasn’t expecting this to work,” Raquel admitted.

           Vincent put a hooved hand to his face. “And is that silly string? You used silly string to try and summon the devil!”

           “Well, it’s not silly string if it’s used seriously!”

           “Serious string,” Vincent sighed.

           The two looked at each other before Raquel stood up. “Listen, my girlfriend is going to be home in a few days, so I need to clean all this up and get rid of the arm. So go back to hell, and no I won’t tell anybody about this.”

           “Hold on there lady, I can take that arm off ya. What do you want for it?”

           Raquel physically paused. “You want to buy my arm from me? The decapitated one?”

           Vincent nodded his sheep head. “Yes. Unless you want me to put it back on you, then I’m going to need your soul.”

           “Hell no! I like my soul, thank you very much!” Raquel argued.

           Vincent did a summersault in the air until he ended up in a casual position in the air. “Well, what do you want? A penis, money, the blood of your enemies? I need something to work with here!”

           What do I want? I want a lot of things but none of them are worth getting rid of my arm for… “There is one thing,” she said.

           Vincent rolled over so he was floating on his belly. “Well? What is it? I don’t have all day; I went on break for this you know.”

           “I want superpowers,” she answered.

           “You… what? What are you seven?”

           “Listen Satan’s Secretary, do you want the arm or not?”

           Vincent rolled his red sheep eyes. “Fine, you want powers? I’ll give you powers.” He snapped his hooves. “There you go. Powers fresh from hell.”

           Raquel patted her body with her one hand. “I don’t feel any different.”

           “Well yeah, you have to activate them you idiot,” Vincent snarled.

           “How am I supposed to do that?”

           “Experiment, trial and error, that sort of thing,” he answered. He lifted the book from the bed and tossed it to Raquel. “Keep this, it might help you. Alright lady. Good luck with your powers!”

           In a flash Vincent and the arm were gone. The LED candles stopped burning and returned to their electrical glow. Raquel looked at the book and collapsed onto the floor.