But in his victory, the front door swung open before him. Spence, who was dozing off again, turned to look at the new customer, but his tired eyes went wide. It was Satan, fully bathed in the light—his milky white skin glowed underneath it, but his fur was too dirty to shine. His yellow eyes flickered as he stared down at Dick, who was clenching the plastic bag in horror. 

“Fitzsimmons,” he said, his voice echoing off of the linoleum. Dick swallowed hard, trying not to let his voice shake, and he stood tall against his enemy. 

“Yes, sir,” he replied. Satan smiled, a mouthful of teeth even sharper than Ted’s; then he laughed, throwing his head back in joy, and revealing his three sets of canines slick with saliva. His blue tongue writhed around like a snake.

“Cute, cute,” he said, wiping a tear from his eye. With one hand, Dick handed the bag behind him to Viktor, and with the other, he took his knife out of his pocket. 

“What do you want?” he said, holding the knife tightly at his side. 

“I want you.” Satan stepped closer, his hooves clicking on the tiles. Dick swallowed again, trembling slightly, but trying his hardest not to falter. “Your father’s been asking for you. I’ll send you down there, for free,” he continued.

“Funny,” Dick sighed. “Be serious.”

“Well, I followed you here, because I thought you looked funny for a Fitzsimmons…” Satan yawned and stretched his arms behind his back, lifting his broad chest. A deep crack resonated within his spine, and all four boys shivered at the sound. Satan didn’t seem fazed, just grumbled and shook out his fur. “And, in all seriousness, Dick, you’ve been the talk of the town ever since you became a Valian. I’d like to prevent you from going any further.”

“Why do you care? You’re a demon. Aren’t you guys supposed to be super evil or whatever?”

“Not all of us are, some of us just got the short end of the stick…I’m trying to get all of you out so your filthy cult can be abolished. Ted doesn’t seem like he wants to go anywhere. If you all resign now, we won’t have to do things the hard way. How about it, boys?”

Dick glanced back at his teammates—Viktor was frantically tugging at Dick’s sweater, begging for him to agree with Satan, but Franky was shaking his head. Dick didn’t want to let Ted down, knowing how kind he’d been to him, but what was “the hard way” to Satan? It seemed like there was no easy way. Was it already time to become a sacrifice for the cult? Was he so attached already? What would Ted say if Dick came back empty-handed—no demon’s head, no blue blood, no murder weapon?

Dick raised his knife. He made eye contact with Satan, like it was a warning, before he plunged the knife deep into his chest. Satan just stared down at him, disappointed, and almost bored. When Dick took the knife out, there was no evidence it had even been in there—no wound, no disruption, no blood, and no pain at all. As Dick searched for such a thing, anything, confused and scared and frantic, Satan tackled him to the floor. With his bony knees, he pinned Dick’s arms down, putting his whole eight-foot weight onto Dick’s chest. Breath escaped Dick’s lungs in a rush, and he struggled underneath the monstrous demon. Satan seemed to be thinking as he looked down at Dick.

“Now, tell me, son--” Satan said, “how would you like to go out? Or, what scar would you like to have when you go to hell?”

Dick sputtered and coughed as he tried to breathe in to speak. “What can you do?” he muttered. 

“Well, I don’t have a knife, but I can bite your head off, bite your dick off, strangle you, punch you very hard, kick you very hard, eat through your stomach--”

“Strangle me.”

Satan shrugged, only a bit shocked at how fast Dick had given up. “Well…if you say so,” he said. Franky and Viktor, who had previously watched on feeling powerless but still hoping that Satan would give Dick a break, were now frantically trying to save their roommate. Franky was tugging and pulling at the giant demon to get him off, but he wouldn’t budge. When he tried to get his hands off of Dick’s throat, they were too tightly wrapped, especially for Franky's weaker stature. Viktor hopped over to Spence’s counter, waving his arms and whimpering, unable to find the words. Spence just watched on, bored and tired yet again, seemingly waiting for Dick to suffocate to death.

But as Dick’s face was turning red, and he started to grow weak, he placed his legs on the front of Satan’s horns. “Franky, heads up,” he said. Franky moved out of the way, not sure of Dick’s plan--once he was out of the way, Dick thrust his legs downward, bringing Satan’s upper half to the floor. With the pin on his arms now lightened, Dick was able to weasel his way out from under Satan. The demon growled, standing up as fast as he could to face Dick once more. Dick caught his breath, throwing his knife to the floor and raising his balled fists. 

“Bring it, goat man,” he said. Satan’s wide mouth twisted into a wicked grin, a chuckle rumbling from his chest and through his gritted fangs. He threw his charred forearm at Dick, attempting to punch, and he dodged it knowing he wouldn’t be able to block (Satan’s hand was only slightly larger than Dick’s head). 

“What’s so special about your stupid cult?!” Satan growled. Dick started to throw quick punches at him, trying to break through the shield Satan’s forearms made for him.

“I…am not…my father,” Dick muttered between punches. He let the thought of Jeff fuel his anger, thus making his punches even harder. He started aiming for Satan’s weak spots--the stomach, the groin, the face. He attempted a few times to trip him and get him back onto the floor to have the upper hand, but his stance was too strong. “Ted…is kind…and caring…and I’m trying…to make my presence…known…” Dick continued, his efforts cutting him off. 

It seemed his attempts didn’t go far enough, though, because Satan was unfazed again. He took the opportunity, when Dick went quiet, to throw a punch back; it landed squarely in Dick’s face, sending him to the floor, bleeding from his nose and mouth. He whimpered, tears falling from his eyes out of pain, while Satan stood over him disapprovingly.

“Try harder,” he said. Sensing Dick had had enough, he turned and walked out of the store, continuing his hunt for the Valians who were searching for him just as well.

Franky and Viktor came to Dick’s aid, but he went silent before they could ask if he was okay. They lifted his fringe, and both of his eyes were already starting to turn dark. “I told him not to mess with Satan,” Franky said, patting his poor roommate’s chest.

“You never said that,” Viktor replied.

When Dick woke up, the bright light blinded him for a moment, and then his eyes adjusted to see three figures. Franky and Viktor were at his sides while Spence was standing over him holding paper towels. He towered over him, almost as tall as Satan was, or at least to Dick, who was laying on the floor. 

“You’re a giant,” Dick muttered as Spence knelt by his head.

“Seven feet sharp,” Spence replied, tearing off a sheet. He started to clean the blood off of Dick’s face, in which Dick sat up so he wouldn’t struggle so much. “Find who you were looking for?” Spence asked. Dick swished spit around in his mouth, not sure if it was spit, or if it was blood.

“Nope,” he said. He handed Spence a ten dollar bill.