@syllyprincessa
The first thing I noticed was the scar below his right eyebrow. I mean, sure it’s small and insignificant, but how was I supposed to focus on the task at hand when all I could think about was that scar and how it came to be. Did he trip and fall on a rock as a kid? Maybe a bad eyebrow trimming experience? No, no, definitely not that. Just because I enjoy trimming my eyebrows doesn’t mean every person in the world is compelled to keep up their appearance the same way I am. I suppose I ought to introduce myself.
My name is Harley Blaze, and I am the true parent to all evil in the world; I thrive on the knowledge that people fear me enough to give themselves over to my dominion so easily that they hardly notice what is happening; I work to corrupt every soul, work to bring them all to my great knowledge and power of the true ways of the world. After all, I don’t plant the seed of evil in every person; I just teach them to nourish their evil, botanical tendencies. I quite enjoy gardening, if that’s what you’re wondering. By now, though, I’m sure you recognize me: the Devil - mother of all sin, father to all unjust acts. Do you remember that voice in your mind, often quietly whispering suggestions to you? Telling you that it’s ok to feel the way you do, it’s ok to be angry and hurt those who hurt you? After all, justice deserves to be served.
That’s what I’m doing today - serving justice to those who deserve to have their wrongs righted and their wounds healed. I like to think of myself as a morally upstanding creature, someone who is only doing what they believe to be the best course of action in a given situation. You don’t believe me? I’ll give you an example. Let’s say that about four years ago, a 15 year old came to you for help: he had crippling depression and had prepared himself for suicide, but he decided to give life one last shot - that last shot being you, the only one who would and could help him. Would you tell him no? Would you let him die a horrible death, causing his family the kind of pain he has felt for years? Of course not! You would do everything you can to help him, even if that means taking his soul in exchange for a lifetime free of an incapacitating illness, mental or not. At least that way, you would be prepared for his entrance to Hell and be able to give him a few pointers and watch out for him. That’s far better than allowing a number of souls, including his, to continue suffering incessantly. I, this being the case I was faced with, decided to help this poor child of a boy. I could not only get rid of his depression, but I could watch out for him when he entered Hell. Was there really a better possible scenario in this case?
Of course, he summoned me, not really knowing what he was getting himself into. He didn’t believe a god existed at that point, so why should a devil? But there I was, the Devil, standing with him on an old abandoned road, hesitant but ready to make the deal that would seal this child’s eternal future, but also give him that much more opportunity during his time as a mortal human.
Now, four years later, I’m standing on his doorstep. That scar: where did it come from? Was it there four years ago? I don’t really remember because it was kind of dark the last time I saw him, but I’m almost sure it wasn’t. That means he must have gotten in some kind of accident since I last saw him. Dirt biking is dangerous yet common for kids his -
“Hello?” Hello? Hello?! I’m the Devil! This child does not just say “hello” as if I’m some common street urchin here to beg -
“Can I help you?”
“Do you really not remember me?” I mean, sure I’ve gotten a haircut, but am I really that easy to forget?
“Umm… no? Do you need something? Am I supposed to remember you?”
“You really ought to, but that’s ok. We can rerun the preliminaries, but I have a favor to ask you.” There, that was simple and straightforward. “Can I come inside? It’s cold out here.” Ok, so maybe I’m not being all that charming right now; I promise that normally I’m far more persuasive and my language is far more attractive, but that scar below his eyebrow had my mind occupied.
“Can we talk out here more? I’m not comfortable with allowing a random girl in my house. And no offense intended, but you’re not making a lot of sense and I’m more than a little concerned right now.” Yeah, thanks, monsieur. I can see your discomfort in your body language, but it is cold, and I’m on a tight schedule.
“Yeah, not a problem. My name is Harley, but I think that last time you met me, about four years ago, I went by the name of Blaze. Ring any bells?” Yes. Yes, that rang lots of bells by the look on his face, and I’m guessing most of them were alarms saying that he should slam the door in my face, which he looked about ready to do at any given moment before I gave him my name. “I promise I’m not here to kill you or anything, I just need to ask a favor.”
“Sorry, but I don’t do demons any favors,” he spit out at me, more than a little gruffly.
“Demon? I’m not a demon! No, I’m far more powerful than that. I-” shouldn’t scare the child, so I’ll be nice. “I’ll give your soul back!” I exclaimed as I shoved my foot in the doorway, stopping him from slamming the door in my face. “I just need a little bit of help with a problem I’m having.” He was dead silent, but he did turn his face back towards the door. “It’s really not going to be a big deal, and it shouldn’t cause you to go out of your way for me.”
“Give my soul back?”
“Yes, I will return your soul to you on one condition: you do me a favor, make us even, level the playing field or whatever it is you kids call it nowadays.”