Song: "Lose Your Soul" by Dead Man's Bones
Vance’s gasp cut short when he noticed that he wasn’t alone in his room. Flinching, he slammed back against the backboard of the bed and knocked his head, allowing for a minute of dull pain emanating from behind.
The Devil himself was seated on a chair across the room, lounging comfortably with a magazine in hand. To Vance’s right, there were open windows displaying natural light. Good. It was at least daytime, but wait-- he died at night. How long was his trip to hell, anyways?
“Hey,” Vance said sharply, waving his hands around as though to get the attention of the strange demon who was oddly invested in what he was reading.
Satan glanced up and raised a brow. “Ah, you’re awake,” he said with a smile, only for it to dim as his eyes opened up and became keenly aware. “Why are your eyes red?”
His jaw dropped. “You’re kidding, right? You were the one who said something strange and threw me off the edge!” Vance countered, throwing aside the covers and moving to his feet, only to find that he was wearing different clothes from before. A hoodie and sweatpants. Not unlike his typical lounging style, but-- these weren’t his clothes.
“Also,” Vance continued. “Who changed my clothes? And what are you reading?”
“The latest article on the last Bachelorette episode,” he answered nonchalantly before folding the corner of the page and closing the magazine. Carefully, he rolled it up and tucked it to the inside of his jacket. He was dressed as though he was going to a wedding-- or perhaps even church, ironically enough. “Also, don’t worry about the rest.”
“Where am I? And… the Bachelorette? Really?” Satan shrugged.
“We’re in one of my apartments on Earth. Of course, I haven’t used this in a little over a decade after one of my leads went dry. Investigating quiet and rogue demons is rather tricky, especially when they’re as old as a hag,” he rambled, rubbing at his temples as though to soothe a headache. His demeanor was too casual, too comfortable. He looked like a damned fool, but Vance was cautious to not say this aloud.
He was, after all, still the Devil.
“I do hate long explanations, although I find myself enjoying your presence,” he hummed before settling back in the seat behind him. He motioned towards the end of the bed, and Vance reluctantly pressed himself against the mattress. “I’ll give you the option of the long or short explanation.”
“Medium,” he blurted without thinking. His breath caught a moment. This was usually how he fucked with his sister for fun-- avoiding her “this or that” questions at whatever cost with non-answers. But the Devil just chuckled.
“I spared your soul, and now you’re a demon instead of a human soul who gets to damn in Hell for eternity,” he said with a bright grin, his arms flying out as though he was conducting an orchestra.
Vance blinked for a moment. “Excuse me?”
Satan cocked his brow. “What?”
“Huh?”
“You-”
“I what?”
His grin turned wry. “You’re a demon. A contract demon, more specifically. Not one to wage wars on angels and tempt nude women to eat apples. Which, by the way, was not exactly how it worked. Also, shame on Adam for going along with it. Why blame women when he was the fool as well?”
“Could you stop rambling and explain what the ‘contract demon’ situation entails? Or do I have to go into it blind and just. Make deals with people, assuming that’s what it means.”
Jumping up with a light thump against the ground as he landed, the Devil laughed. “Yes! I really do like you, although I will admit that I don’t know your name.”
“You--” Vance sighed. “It’s Vance.”
“Oh, interesting. I thought you might be an Eric. Or perhaps a Kevin? No, no. A Vance it is,” he murmured, rubbing at his chin a moment. “Ah, anyways. Yes you make contracts with humans. Your neighbor was one such human, and her sentence ended, so she was pulled to hell. Her decisions may be regretted there, but she’s never going to experience any sort of rebirth unless I personally will it-- which I don’t.”
“Can I ask another ques-” The demon across the way held up a finger and shook his head silently. And suddenly, the look in his eye darkened a bit, lips pursing in thought.
“Your eyes really ought not to be red,” he remarked, his words like a whisper that shattered the growing silence in the room. Alluring. His voice, that was. Must be because of being the Devil and the “tempation” aspect. Vance would bite any apple any day if such a voice whispered it right into his ear. Even if it came from a snake.
“Maybe I overdid it,” he concluded with a dismissive wave of a hand, his silver rings reflecting the sun that peeked its way through the half shut blinds. “Either way, I’ll give you the short story. You’re dead and now your job is to make contracts with humanity. The middleman for them to sell their soul to me-- or Hell-- in a way. We are not in the same town in which you live, although-- well, just keep yourself cautious. Any questions may be directed towards me-” He pointed at his chest with a strange glance of pride. “-at this moment.”
Vance inhaled, and then he spoke just as fast as the Devil did out of pure spite. “How far exactly am I from home? What about my family? Does the world know that I’m dead or am I a missing person? And are you sure this isn’t a strange dream?”
Now it was the Devil’s turn to blink back at Vance’s bold questioning, yet instead of getting annoyed as Vance secretly hoped he would, there was yet another stupid smug look on his face. He was enjoying himself, and getting a rise out of Vance in the slightest way seemed to be enjoyable. Still, he didn’t seem all too much like the Satan that the western world told him to fear.
“An hour. They are living as normal. Your body was left in the middle of street after we made it look like you were hit by a car. Your funeral is probably happening right about now. Also, a dream? Seriously?”
“You never know.”
“Dreams hardly last this long, nor feel this real.”
“Do demons dream?”
He cocked his head. “Now that I think about it… I don’t think I’ve-- had a dream since…” His lips pressed hard together, and then the Devil’s brows furrowed further. Frustration built as he pondered the last he dreamed, and even Vance was leaning in closer in a small spark of anticipation. “It must have been about 1972, I think. Certainly after I’ve ascended to this position.”
“So. I take it dreams are a rare occurrence?”
“Well, we’re not humans. We don’t exactly function as you do, but well-- sometimes we adapt to human customs. When demons and angels started having dreams, things were a little chaotic. Or so I’ve heard. That was quite some time ago.” He shook his head a moment, eyes flickering with impatience. “Anyways. I have matters to attend to. I’ll tell you about contracts since your first assignment should be today.”
“I think this is the quickest I’ve ever been employed.”
A slight smile. “I really wish more people interacted with me as casually as you do,” he remarked, followed by an over dramatic sigh and swipe over his brow. Definitely would have been in drama class in high school. Probably choir, too.
“How else would they interact with you when you act like... “ Vance waved his hands around in an attempt to use gestures to symbolize the Devil’s personality. “This.”
This time, the expression he made was rather reserved, the smile seeming of courtesy while the look in his eyes was careful. Vance pretended not to notice and kept a curious glance on the demon. Regardless, he was offered no explanation.
Instead, he decided to be annoying once more. “Do I have to pay rent and stuff for this? Also am I able to eat and function normally or--”
“Normal function but you don’t have a heartbeat. You only breathe because your mind is used to it but you don’t actually need to. Have fun in water if you’d like, but you might wither away a bit if you stay down too long. And no, the apartment is paid for already. I am pretty established on Earth with all sorts of connections. I can’t just only have power in Hell, right? Although Heaven… is no place for me.”
“I think the world would collapse if the Devil were to enter Hell,” Vance chuckled. The mere thought of it was ridiculous, yet he found it a bit amusing. At this, the tension in the room dissolved once more, and he caught the Devil’s favorable glance once more. “Also-”
A hand shot up, signifying silence. “One more question and I’ll demote you to a lesser demon.”
Vance pressed his lips together. “Understood.” He didn’t even know what a lesser demon did, but whatever it was, it probably wasn’t anything special. A contract demon, though. How high was that on the hierarchy of demons? Was it special? Probably not, but he still wondered. No questions.
“Anyways. You’re lucky I’m more organized than Lucifer the Fourth.” He pointed sharply at Vance, taking a few steps until he was rather close. His finger pressed against Vance’s chest, oddly feeling as human as it looked. Vance stared down at it until he curled his fingers back and shuffled a pace away. “Anyways.” Vance looked up again. “There are demons who observe humanity and compile a list of potential contractors for contract demons such as yourself. You’ll get the list, and you might find it’s filled with an interesting group of people. None the same as the other, yet they’re all at high risk for Satanic deals. Or whatever they call it up here.”
“Sounds easy enough. Is there like. A contract quota?”
“Just do them as you can, but if you wait too long in between, I’m dragging your ass back to hell.”
“Then-- any other advice?”
“Avoid priests. At least the ones that are genuine. Angels like to congregate around them sometimes, and also don’t interact with an angel. Ever. They’ll kill you if they so much please to. You’ll see the list arrive at the front door soon enough. For now, try out your new contacts.”
Frowning, Vance inquired, “What contacts? Like-- phone contacts?”
“Eyes. You cannot go around with red eyes unless you want to stick out. I thought you’d know at least that much.”
Vance rolled his eyes. “Understood. Feels like I’m being lectured though. Also, why are you doting on me specific-”
Satan disappeared through the ground, floating through as if he was a specter. No wait for Vance to finish his questions. To be fair, it was understandable to have questions, right? He was a demon or whatever, and as strange as it is, he felt weirdly comfortable with this.
Well, at least he didn’t have to bother with figuring out what the hell he was going to go to college for. With a sigh and a shrug, he toed over to the door to find the opening that was the rest of the apartment- living room, dining area, and kitchen all in a mostly open room, save for a half wall blocking off much of the Kitchen’s space. To his immediate left, the wall went to its corner and there was the door, left open and the light on.
Vance looked at the contacts case. A post-it note was left nearby, so he plucked it from the counter and stared at the message for a long minute.
Please wear these at all times in public! Xoxo - Lucifer the Fifth
The post-it note rested in a crumpled state in the trash within seconds, and Vance tried not the flinch at the redness of his eyes. He looked like a damn vampire, and for all he knew, those probably existed as well.
He swallowed whatever burning questions remained within him and attempted to apply the contacts. He never did need glasses or anything, but-- God the amount of times his eyes watered and rejected his attempts was astounding.
But when he put them on, he merely stared at his own reflection.
“And so,” Vance whispered to himself. “I look normal again. Yet my eyes are blue and I almost feel even less of myself seeing it like this. What a fun existence this will become, won’t it?”
A knock sounded at the door. When Vance answered it, he locked eyes with what appeared to be a short, young girl. Her eyes blinked a deep brown that matched her skin and hair. The gaze was piercing, however, and she held a paper out towards Vance.
Reluctantly, he plucked it from her fingers and squinted at all the names down the list. Whoever made this, they certainly printed it off of Microsoft Word.
“How old are you?” Vance wondered, face contorting in an uncertain expression. He didn’t know how to feel at the idea of a child being a demon-
“Eighty-four,” she said promptly.
Nevermind that.
The demon walked off, and Vance shut the door and paused to look upon his list. Then, he froze where he stood near the doorway, eyeing the names yet not understanding something.
“How am I supposed to find these people and make a contract with them?” he murmured to himself. Frustration began to build, but he kept himself calm with a few deep breaths. Maybe he could try again tomorrow. Or google them--
He didn’t have a phone. Or a computer. Or wifi, even. And when he tried the television, it only had basic cable.
Ah, for fuck’s sake.
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