The Devil’s Play Date
Prologue
Samuel’s hands were shaking. This is the point of no return, he thought as sweat beaded on his low forehead. He had all the right materials, read all the creepy, Pagan-esque books that described exactly how to do it. So why was this so hard to do? Samuel wiped the salty sweat away, brushing his medium-length, straight hazel hair to the side. He had to do this, and he had to do it now.
“Okay….” He sighed, taking the bowl filled with crimson lambs blood. “Just gotta make the pentacle, read the chant, and he should appear.” Samuel gulped hard as his fingers fiddled with the lucid blood. After washing it over his hand a few times, he pressed his palm against the ground, painting a giant circle on the stone canvas. He dry-heaved a little as he did it. The smell was horrid, a mix of iron and mold. After the circle was complete, he started on the inverse star that would be its centerpiece, dipping his hand once again.
“Ohh…..this is vile.” Samuel coughed between gags as he started to fill out the rest of his morbid little art project. With a final stroke, Samuel had finished. A perfect pentagram, like the ones he’d seen on those gothic websites made by melodramatic teens with daddy-issues. Samuel took a moment to gaze over his work, make sure it was absolutely correct. After he’d finished his inspection, he reached for the book by his side, entitled “The History of Satanic Worship”. As he flipped through the pages to find the right one, he was thinking. Thinking of what he was doing right now. Thinking of Sarah, in the hospital. Thinking of how it got to this point. Samuel then reached, ironically, page 666, with a header on the top. “Incantations Used When Preforming Devil Worship”.
As Samuel’s eyes flowed down the page, he found what he was looking for. A chant that would, supposedly, summon the Devil himself. Samuel’s hands started to shake again. He wondered if this was going too far, if maybe he should just accept the bitter reality of his situation. Maybe he shouldn’t try to alter fate……no. He had to do this, for Sarah. Samuel spoke the words as he saw them, although it was difficult, given he hadn’t been brushing up on his Latin lately. The words seemed to go on forever, spanning two more pages. But when he was finally finished…….nothing. Zip. Nada. Nothing happened. Samuel waited in the deafening silence, praying something, ANYTHING would happen. But nothing did.
“That’s it?” Samuel heard himself say aloud. He was confused, angry. Why the hell wasn’t anything happening? Samuel looked down at the pentagram, the blood becoming murkier. Then, all of a sudden, the light dangling above his head started to flicker.
“What were you expecting? Flames and a haunting choir?” Samuel heard behind him. He jumped forward and spun around fast to identify the source of the voice. Before him stood a very well-groomed man, draped in an expensive looking suit and tie. His hair was clean-cut, and his face was clear of any stubble or blemishes. “Hello, Samuel.” The man said.
“Who the hell are you?!”
“Well, my father calls me Lucifer, if you prefer that. Judeo Christians call me Satan as well, so that works too. I figured you’d know that, though. I mean, you’ve only been trying to get a hold of me all night, right?”
Samuel was frozen.
“Y-y-you…….I mean, you’re…..him?” Samuel stuttered, feeling breathless. Could this really be the Devil himself?
“Well, I’m certainly not your pretty little wife, now am I? Oh, speaking of her, how is she? Last I heard, she was terribly ill.” The way he spoke with such eloquence petrified Samuel.
“Umm……yes, yes. She has…..um…….” Samuel was beyond the point of even forming a rational thought.
“Lung cancer. Inoperable, from what I know.”
“Y-yes, that.”
“And, from what I understand, you called me to this, pardon my French, pitiful excuse for a basement to try and negotiate for Bo Peeps life?” Samuel’s tongue was numb, so he only managed a slight nod. “I see…..so, what are you offering me?”
“What am I…..offering you?”
“Did I stutter? You see, that’s how negotiations usually work. I fix Dolly Parton’s precious respiratory system, but at a price.”
“So…..what is it that you want then?”
“Make me an offer.” The man said softly. Samuel didn’t even know what to say. For a second, he racked his brain, trying to recall things that a demon would want. He remembered some books saying that Satan wanted nothing but chaos, and others saying that he wanted firstborn sons. After about ten seconds of silence between Samuel and the incarnate of evil, he finally decided on something.
“Do you want…..my soul?”
“Ha!” the well-groomed man scoffed. “Look, Sammy, I’ll cut to the chase. I’m not looking for anything spiritualistic like your soul. I mean, if I wanted it that bad, I could just do this.” The man closed his fist tight, and all of a sudden, Samuel felt drained, as if someone just put him in the world’s highest-class sauna. All energy he had before had dissipated, and he felt himself collapse to the floor. Samuel had to strain just to lift his head, and his eyes met the well-groomed man’s eyes. He had opened his fist now, and hovering a few inches above his flat palm was a small, rotating sphere that emanated with a bluish aura. Samuel could only think. Could that really be his…….?
“All right, all right, I’ll put it back.” The man said, and held his palm to his lips. He blew a very soft breath, and the ball of blue wafted toward Samuel. He closed his eyes as it approached, but when it did, he suddenly felt revitalized, as if someone had flipped his Energy Switch to “On”. He felt himself rise to his feet.
“What the hell….” He muttered.
“Please, I insist, hold your applause! For my next trick will leave you in stitches! Uh, take that as you will.”
“No!” Samuel retaliated, quietly, but with force. “No more tricks, please. Just tell me what you want already.”
“Whoa, he’s got a little fight in him! Well, since you asked so nicely, I’ll tell you. I want you to spend a day with me.” Samuel’s small amount of bitterness turned to a large amount of confusion.
“That’s……it?”
“That’s it. No strings attached. You do that for me, and I fix up your sweetie-pie faster than Eve when she took the apple. Silver-tongues on those snakes, you know?”
“Umm…I’m not complaining, per se, but…..why? I mean, I figured you’d want something more….practical.”
“What’s your definition of practical?”
“Like a soul or something.”
“Oh, well, we can do that again, if you want.” The man said as he clenched his fist again.
“No! No….really, that’s quite alright.” The man loosened his grasp. “Alright…..so one day with you, and you’ll save Sarah?” The man extended his hand.
“Do we have a deal, Samuel?” Samuel stood for a second, pondering. He was about to make a deal with the Devil himself, he realized that. But what was so special about spending a day with him? What would they do? Where would they go? Samuel thought a thousand times over all the possibilities. “Or are you gonna leave me hanging here?” The man said. Samuel extended his hand, and shook the man’s hand.
“We’ve got a deal.”
“Excellent.” The man said as he reached into his back pocket, pulling out what looked to be an extensive document. “Now, just sign here, here, and here. Initial there, and a fingerprint at the bottom.” He said, pointing to various spots on the paper.
“Umm……” Samuel muttered.
“Kidding! I swear to Dad, I’m kidding with you. I was never into formalities and all that. Leave those to the Archangels, am I right?”
“I guess….?”
“C’mon, champ, would it kill you to at least smile? Your expression makes you like Abel post-mortem.”
“I guess I’m just shocked, is all. Everything went…..well, as good as this could go, anyways.” Samuel said, finally easing into the insane situation. “So, umm…..what are we doing today?”
Oh, I’ve got the most fantastic day planned! We’ll frolic in the park, swap war stories, and maybe even see a romantic movie.” The man said, giving Samuel a wink.
“You’re kidding with me again, aren’t you?”
“Guilty as charged. But on a serious note, I’m gonna need a name if I’m strolling around in public. Like a….oh, what do you people call it nowadays….a new identity or something, like an alias.”
Umm, why would you need that?”
“Why would I need that? How are you going to introduce me?? ‘Oh yes, hi, I’m Samuel, and this is my new BFF, the embodiment of evil itself!’ No no no…..we need something that sounds natural.” Samuel took a moment to consider this thought.
“How about……Devon?”
“Yeah……yeah! Atta boy, Sammy!” The man said, giving Samuel a rough pat on the back. “Now, what about a last name?”
“Umm…..Natas?”
“Eh, not as good, but hey, I didn’t come up with it. All right, I am Devon Natas for the day. You wouldn’t happen to know the time, would you?”
“I think it’s sometime after 3:00 AM, why?”
“Well, I need to know how much playtime you and I have, silly. I’ll just round up and say that you’re mine until 4:00 AM tomorrow. Until then, get some sleep, you’ll need it for our day. Oh, and clean up all this.” Devon said, motioning his hand to the faded, murky pentacle still adorning the floor. “Don’t want your basement smelling like the Seventh Circle, now do you? Trust me, I’ve been there, done that.”
“I guess not.” Samuel said with a slight chuckle.
“Hey! He laughs! There you go, just loosen up!” Devon said. “Alright, mop up down here and get some sleep. I’ll be delivering you a wake-up call at 6:00 AM, so be ready. We’ve got a big day ahead of us, Sammy.” Devon said, holding his thumb and middle finger together. Then, with a snap, Devon was gone. There wasn’t smoke or flames or anything, he just…..vanished. Samuel blinked a few times to make sure he didn’t just imagine that. That he didn’t just imagine ALL of that.
“Well…..” Samuel heard himself say aloud. “Guess I’ll get the mop.”
Prologue
Samuel’s hands were shaking. This is the point of no return, he thought as sweat beaded on his low forehead. He had all the right materials, read all the creepy, Pagan-esque books that described exactly how to do it. So why was this so hard to do? Samuel wiped the salty sweat away, brushing his medium-length, straight hazel hair to the side. He had to do this, and he had to do it now.
“Okay….” He sighed, taking the bowl filled with crimson lambs blood. “Just gotta make the pentacle, read the chant, and he should appear.” Samuel gulped hard as his fingers fiddled with the lucid blood. After washing it over his hand a few times, he pressed his palm against the ground, painting a giant circle on the stone canvas. He dry-heaved a little as he did it. The smell was horrid, a mix of iron and mold. After the circle was complete, he started on the inverse star that would be its centerpiece, dipping his hand once again.
“Ohh…..this is vile.” Samuel coughed between gags as he started to fill out the rest of his morbid little art project. With a final stroke, Samuel had finished. A perfect pentagram, like the ones he’d seen on those gothic websites made by melodramatic teens with daddy-issues. Samuel took a moment to gaze over his work, make sure it was absolutely correct. After he’d finished his inspection, he reached for the book by his side, entitled “The History of Satanic Worship”. As he flipped through the pages to find the right one, he was thinking. Thinking of what he was doing right now. Thinking of Sarah, in the hospital. Thinking of how it got to this point. Samuel then reached, ironically, page 666, with a header on the top. “Incantations Used When Preforming Devil Worship”.
As Samuel’s eyes flowed down the page, he found what he was looking for. A chant that would, supposedly, summon the Devil himself. Samuel’s hands started to shake again. He wondered if this was going too far, if maybe he should just accept the bitter reality of his situation. Maybe he shouldn’t try to alter fate……no. He had to do this, for Sarah. Samuel spoke the words as he saw them, although it was difficult, given he hadn’t been brushing up on his Latin lately. The words seemed to go on forever, spanning two more pages. But when he was finally finished…….nothing. Zip. Nada. Nothing happened. Samuel waited in the deafening silence, praying something, ANYTHING would happen. But nothing did.
“That’s it?” Samuel heard himself say aloud. He was confused, angry. Why the hell wasn’t anything happening? Samuel looked down at the pentagram, the blood becoming murkier. Then, all of a sudden, the light dangling above his head started to flicker.
“What were you expecting? Flames and a haunting choir?” Samuel heard behind him. He jumped forward and spun around fast to identify the source of the voice. Before him stood a very well-groomed man, draped in an expensive looking suit and tie. His hair was clean-cut, and his face was clear of any stubble or blemishes. “Hello, Samuel.” The man said.
“Who the hell are you?!”
“Well, my father calls me Lucifer, if you prefer that. Judeo Christians call me Satan as well, so that works too. I figured you’d know that, though. I mean, you’ve only been trying to get a hold of me all night, right?”
Samuel was frozen.
“Y-y-you…….I mean, you’re…..him?” Samuel stuttered, feeling breathless. Could this really be the Devil himself?
“Well, I’m certainly not your pretty little wife, now am I? Oh, speaking of her, how is she? Last I heard, she was terribly ill.” The way he spoke with such eloquence petrified Samuel.
“Umm……yes, yes. She has…..um…….” Samuel was beyond the point of even forming a rational thought.
“Lung cancer. Inoperable, from what I know.”
“Y-yes, that.”
“And, from what I understand, you called me to this, pardon my French, pitiful excuse for a basement to try and negotiate for Bo Peeps life?” Samuel’s tongue was numb, so he only managed a slight nod. “I see…..so, what are you offering me?”
“What am I…..offering you?”
“Did I stutter? You see, that’s how negotiations usually work. I fix Dolly Parton’s precious respiratory system, but at a price.”
“So…..what is it that you want then?”
“Make me an offer.” The man said softly. Samuel didn’t even know what to say. For a second, he racked his brain, trying to recall things that a demon would want. He remembered some books saying that Satan wanted nothing but chaos, and others saying that he wanted firstborn sons. After about ten seconds of silence between Samuel and the incarnate of evil, he finally decided on something.
“Do you want…..my soul?”
“Ha!” the well-groomed man scoffed. “Look, Sammy, I’ll cut to the chase. I’m not looking for anything spiritualistic like your soul. I mean, if I wanted it that bad, I could just do this.” The man closed his fist tight, and all of a sudden, Samuel felt drained, as if someone just put him in the world’s highest-class sauna. All energy he had before had dissipated, and he felt himself collapse to the floor. Samuel had to strain just to lift his head, and his eyes met the well-groomed man’s eyes. He had opened his fist now, and hovering a few inches above his flat palm was a small, rotating sphere that emanated with a bluish aura. Samuel could only think. Could that really be his…….?
“All right, all right, I’ll put it back.” The man said, and held his palm to his lips. He blew a very soft breath, and the ball of blue wafted toward Samuel. He closed his eyes as it approached, but when it did, he suddenly felt revitalized, as if someone had flipped his Energy Switch to “On”. He felt himself rise to his feet.
“What the hell….” He muttered.
“Please, I insist, hold your applause! For my next trick will leave you in stitches! Uh, take that as you will.”
“No!” Samuel retaliated, quietly, but with force. “No more tricks, please. Just tell me what you want already.”
“Whoa, he’s got a little fight in him! Well, since you asked so nicely, I’ll tell you. I want you to spend a day with me.” Samuel’s small amount of bitterness turned to a large amount of confusion.
“That’s……it?”
“That’s it. No strings attached. You do that for me, and I fix up your sweetie-pie faster than Eve when she took the apple. Silver-tongues on those snakes, you know?”
“Umm…I’m not complaining, per se, but…..why? I mean, I figured you’d want something more….practical.”
“What’s your definition of practical?”
“Like a soul or something.”
“Oh, well, we can do that again, if you want.” The man said as he clenched his fist again.
“No! No….really, that’s quite alright.” The man loosened his grasp. “Alright…..so one day with you, and you’ll save Sarah?” The man extended his hand.
“Do we have a deal, Samuel?” Samuel stood for a second, pondering. He was about to make a deal with the Devil himself, he realized that. But what was so special about spending a day with him? What would they do? Where would they go? Samuel thought a thousand times over all the possibilities. “Or are you gonna leave me hanging here?” The man said. Samuel extended his hand, and shook the man’s hand.
“We’ve got a deal.”
“Excellent.” The man said as he reached into his back pocket, pulling out what looked to be an extensive document. “Now, just sign here, here, and here. Initial there, and a fingerprint at the bottom.” He said, pointing to various spots on the paper.
“Umm……” Samuel muttered.
“Kidding! I swear to Dad, I’m kidding with you. I was never into formalities and all that. Leave those to the Archangels, am I right?”
“I guess….?”
“C’mon, champ, would it kill you to at least smile? Your expression makes you like Abel post-mortem.”
“I guess I’m just shocked, is all. Everything went…..well, as good as this could go, anyways.” Samuel said, finally easing into the insane situation. “So, umm…..what are we doing today?”
Oh, I’ve got the most fantastic day planned! We’ll frolic in the park, swap war stories, and maybe even see a romantic movie.” The man said, giving Samuel a wink.
“You’re kidding with me again, aren’t you?”
“Guilty as charged. But on a serious note, I’m gonna need a name if I’m strolling around in public. Like a….oh, what do you people call it nowadays….a new identity or something, like an alias.”
Umm, why would you need that?”
“Why would I need that? How are you going to introduce me?? ‘Oh yes, hi, I’m Samuel, and this is my new BFF, the embodiment of evil itself!’ No no no…..we need something that sounds natural.” Samuel took a moment to consider this thought.
“How about……Devon?”
“Yeah……yeah! Atta boy, Sammy!” The man said, giving Samuel a rough pat on the back. “Now, what about a last name?”
“Umm…..Natas?”
“Eh, not as good, but hey, I didn’t come up with it. All right, I am Devon Natas for the day. You wouldn’t happen to know the time, would you?”
“I think it’s sometime after 3:00 AM, why?”
“Well, I need to know how much playtime you and I have, silly. I’ll just round up and say that you’re mine until 4:00 AM tomorrow. Until then, get some sleep, you’ll need it for our day. Oh, and clean up all this.” Devon said, motioning his hand to the faded, murky pentacle still adorning the floor. “Don’t want your basement smelling like the Seventh Circle, now do you? Trust me, I’ve been there, done that.”
“I guess not.” Samuel said with a slight chuckle.
“Hey! He laughs! There you go, just loosen up!” Devon said. “Alright, mop up down here and get some sleep. I’ll be delivering you a wake-up call at 6:00 AM, so be ready. We’ve got a big day ahead of us, Sammy.” Devon said, holding his thumb and middle finger together. Then, with a snap, Devon was gone. There wasn’t smoke or flames or anything, he just…..vanished. Samuel blinked a few times to make sure he didn’t just imagine that. That he didn’t just imagine ALL of that.
“Well…..” Samuel heard himself say aloud. “Guess I’ll get the mop.”
lizerina776
Join the Discussion
This article has 1 comment. Post your own!