Temptation: Terms and Conditions

Marcus stood hesitantly in the doorway and scanned the bar. It was pretty quiet - just a lone bartender wiping the counter and a scattering of players bent over pool tables. A solitary booth was occupied by a lone but instantly recognizable figure. Before him two fresh, foamy beers graced the table. His silhouette shrouded in shadowy darkness, though his eyes gleamed crimson. In his hands smoke curled from the end of a fat cigar. His sharp nails tapped the table with rhythmic impatience.  

Marcus paused, one foot on the threshold of the bar entrance. He was at war within himself. Was he making the right decision? What was he even doing here? Was jeopardizing his soul worth the revenge he so desperately craved?  

It was too late. The figure in the corner had seen him. And there was no running from the Devil.  

The Prince of Darkness waved him over. Marcus could do nothing but obey. He kept his coat on and slid into the booth. He opened his mouth. But what he’d planned to say had, out of nowhere, evaporated from his mind.  

The Devil leaned forward, grinning slyly at him. Pinching the cigar between his thumb & fore finger, he raised it to his lips, inhaled and blew a sharp gust of smoke right at Marcus. It billowed into his face, and he smothered a cough. 

“Evening Marcus,” the Devil rasped. “Good to see you haven’t backed out.” 

Marcus blinked furiously, trying to clear the smoke from his watering eyes. He tried answering but his throat refused to function. A strangled high-pitched squeak emerged instead, butchering the self-assured coolness he had practiced in the mirror before. 

The Devil grin broadened, only to fall away like the angels of old into the underworld. He leaned forward, a gleam of malice in his eyes. He asked: 

“So what’s it gonna be then, eh? You know what my offer is. An eternity of pain and misery for your wife in exchange for your soul. You’re the one that asked to do this. And now the moment has come, you’ve frozen.” 

Marcus kept his gaze lowered. The Devil had an uncanny knack for making people squirm. And when he did, you couldn’t help but feel your stomach fill with butterflies at the way his pupils folded like snake’s eyes, the way they glowed like a lantern in the graveyard black of night.  

“If you’re this hesitant, I’m surprised you’ve even considered my offer at all. What makes you determined to sell your soul if you’re so afraid of hell anyway?” 

Marcus put on a brave front, leaning back and crossing his arms to give the Devil a false impression of ease. “Well, seeing that I’m friends with you, I don’t see myself destined for Heaven anytime soon. It makes sense that my wife should be made to come along with me. I want to be the reason she burns. I want to be the one in control of both our fates. And this way, you get an extra soul from this deal. What’s not to like?” 

The Devil sneered, and said, “funny how you planned all this for Black Friday, of all days. How’d you know about that?” 

Marcus’s eyebrows perked up. He hadn’t known at all. He barely paid any attention to the news these days, wasting their time on stories about holiday traffic or the benefits of a weekly workout. Least of all when Black Friday was, or really, whatever it was. Why would he want to sit in a tent for six hours just to see if a fridge he didn’t even need to buy was 50% off? 

Marcus awkwardly expressed all of this to the Devil. Afterwards, he quipped, “What does Black Friday even have to do with this?” 

The Devil chuckled dryly. “Well, for anyone that comes my way for a bargain, I set Black Friday aside as a special occasion, just like you mortals do.” 

“What do you mean?” 

The Devil leaned back with a toothy grin that never quite reached his eyes. “When a human sells their soul on Black Friday, I always offer them a chance to join up with me and my demons once they’ve died. I’ve got an empire to sustain, and an army always open to new recruits. I can grant you revenge, if that’s what you really wish. But your wife’s fate doesn’t have to be yours.” 

Marcus’ eyes widened into perfect spheres.  

“You said you liked power, and you’re perfectly fine damning your mortal kin to eternal torment. That makes you the best kind of man for this job by far.” The Devil started up the rhythm of tapping his fingernails upon the table again. “I’m the King of Hell, and I’d have the power myself to help you upgrade. No being lashed, drowned, or clawed at for the rest of time itself. You’ll be my right-hand man. My secretary, if you like. You’ll get free passage through all nine levels of the Inferno and the rest of my demons won’t even bat an eyelid when you pass them by.” 

Marcus stuttered, “and what does that sort of stuff...entail?” He cringed at himself for using that word. 

The Devil gazed into Marcus’ eyes unblinkingly. “You’ll be like a journalist, reporting back to me, and I’ll even bring you to the overworld whenever I go. In that case, you’ll still be able to visit home.”  

Marcus’ heartbeat pummeled against the wall of his chest. The world swam around him in a dim haze. Any reservations he might have had about this diminished from his mind like smoke from a campfire. Marcus, it's okay. This is something good for you. Something necessary. A better bargain than any Black Friday sale there is!  

As he had always been prone to doing if something gave him what he wanted, no delay, Marcus agreed with a vehement nod. Satisfaction gleamed sinisterly in the Devil’s eyes. 

“Alright, then. The deal’s done. When you die, you’ll get the job.” 

Marcus’ heart leapt into his throat. Without even thinking, Marcus stretched out his arm, and they both shook on it. Yet when he pulled his hand back, Marcus felt something sting his palm. He looked to see that a strange mark in the shape of a circle had burned into his skin.  

His heart sank into his stomach. No turning back now.  

As he rubbed his palm with his thumb, he glanced up to see that the Devil was still grinning at him. Marcus didn’t want to ask, but there was still one other thing nagging him from the back of his mind.  

“Is there a catch to this?” 

The Devil cackled hoarsely. “Ah, Marcus, you never fail me. Of course there is! Wouldn’t count as a bargain without a price to pray.” 

Marcus gulped. He grabbed his beer and downed it in one. He was going to need something stronger.  

“Here’s the catch; if you accept my offer, you get out of eternal torture scot-free. But in exchange, you must let your wife live her life as it is until she dies. That’s another sixty years for her to enjoy without you.” 

Marcus’s jaw dropped. “What the hell do you mean by that?” 

The Devil paused, glaring at him. “You want this to work? Don’t bother telling your wife you know about the affair she’s been having with her boss. Don’t mess around applying for a divorce. I’m taking you to the underworld with me now. You won’t see her for decades, anyway. If she keeps up with the affair, good. If she gets married in the end, tell yourself you wish her well. There’s nothing you can do to control her as long as she remains on Earth.” 

“A promotion? I never meant...you mean I have to come to hell now?” Marcus stammered. The Devil nodded curtly. Marcus groaned, dropped his forehead helplessly into his palms. Rolling his eyes at such pointless human drama, the Devil snarked: 

“There’s just sacrifices you have to make when you trade with me. Don’t be the first mortal dumb enough to push me on it. You’ll get what you wished for in the end.”’ 

 Marcus bit his lip so hard he drew blood. All these words, all of this, he couldn’t even form sentences inside his own brain. First his wife betraying him, and then his friend! 

His heart rate skyrocketed when he saw the Devil finish the last of his beer. Marcus finally managed to whisper, “and so those are the terms and conditions you have for me?”  

“Those are the terms and conditions. I’ve already put my signature down on your palm. No backing out now.” 

As Marcus gazed at the mark, he pondered despairingly upon this reckless impulse of his to damn his wife to Hell. Whether he had made his choice out of temptation, knowing the plan would all come to fruition in the end, or simply out of sheer terror, he still couldn’t tell. Perhaps he never would. 

“I’ll take your offer,” Marcus finally sighed.  

A satisfied grin flashed across the Devil’s face. “Knew you’d come round in the end.”  

Marcus gazed somberly at his empty beer glass. This certainly didn’t slip from the Devil’s attention. Raising his sharp-clawed hands, he beckoned at the bartender over at the counter. 

“You!” He called out. “Fetch us a round of shots. This guy here is gonna need something stronger than beer.”