Deals ​

Deals Janice has no idea what to do with the demon on her doorstep. Apparently, screaming and slamming the door in its long, black face doesn’t really work. Neither does throwing salt and crosses out the window, commanding it to “Begone, foul spirit”. The internet lied to her with that one, and if she can’t trust the internet where is she supposed to go?

On the other hand, it really hasn’t done much of anything beyond the first polite knocking. As far as Janice can tell, it’s still standing out there, its hulking form bent down so that its face is at door level, its claws scraping across the ground. She thought she saw a tail, in all her flailing to try and banish it earlier, almost hidden by the sheer amount of fur the thing has. She knows it’s a demon because when she had first opened the door, and before slamming it shut, it began to introduce itself with a low raspy, “Hello, my name is Altian the demon and I was wondering if you could help me?”

Janice checks outside her window again, and yep. Still there. Still hulking. Still a demon. She glances at her clock. It’s been at least two hours since it’s shown up. What should she do? What could she do? She couldn’t really call for help; she lives by herself on a large piece of property. And it was one a.m., which meant few cars will be passing by her anyways. Besides, the longer it stands out there, the less afraid of it she is becoming. “Don’t you know that I need to sleep?” she yells out the window, glaring down at the beast. “Go the fuck away.”

Long winding horns and bright yellow eyes turn in her direction. “If I may, I could use your help.”

“Help doing what?” she asks, gripping the windowsill hard. “Sacrificing virgins? Dragging souls to Hell?”

The demon laughs, high and pitchy and grating on Janice’s ears. “No, no. I just need help finding someone. See, they made a deal with me and now its time for them to pay the price.”

Janice frowns. “Are you going to kill them?”

“I suppose if it would help settle your curiosity, I might. If they don’t have the means to repay me.” It watches the way Janice narrows her eyes at it, tilting its head. “Ah, yes, I forgot about you humans and your finicky morals. If it makes you feel better, they are a bad person.”

“That doesn’t help, actually.” Janice bites her lip. “How were they going to repay you?”

She thinks it shrugs, but she isn’t entirely sure it has shoulders. “Most pay me in blood. Some in trading for someone else’s soul. Sometimes, a rare few have a trinket worth my time.”

“Trinkets? You collect things?”

“I collect souls, don’t I?” The demon sniffs at her. “How far-fetched can it be that I would make a hobby out of collecting?”

“Well, what do you collect?”

The thing tilts its head again. “Why do you want to know?”

“Maybe I could pay off that person’s debt. If I had something, I mean.”

“Why?” the demon asks again.

“I can’t just let you go off and kill someone.”

“I already told you, they’re not a good person.”

“Why?” It’s Janice’s turn to demand. “What’d they do?”

That makes the demon pause. “Well they made a deal with me, didn’t they?”

“So? I made a deal with that two-bit hack of a mechanic over on 4th street to fix my truck. I don’t think anyone would condemn me for that.”

“I think,” the demon says, “That this may be a little different.”

“How so?”

“Well, for one, I’m a demon.”

“And?”

“And only bad humans make deals with us scary demons.” It pauses. “You’re awfully combative when talking with me. Aren’t you humans supposed to be afraid of us?”

“We humans are tougher than you think.” Janice puffs out her chest.

It does not look impressed. “Didn’t you scream in my face when I first tried asking for help? And then threw crosses and salt at me?”

Janice waves that off with a blush. “Ok, so they made a deal with a demon. Why does that mean I should help you kill them? What’d they ask for?”

“Happiness,” the demon says.

“Happiness?” Janice’s voice is monotone. The demon nods. “Ok, yeah, that settles that. You’re on your own.”

“What if I told you that it was a guy? Who wanted happiness with another man?” The demon throws out.

Janice raises an eyebrow. “Are you calling me homophobic?”

That makes the demon pause. It looks down, picking up one of her crosses, the piece of wood tiny in its claws. “Isn’t this yours?”

“Well, what does that have to do with anything? I practice my religion my way and you can practice it your way.” Janice crosses her arms.

The demon sighs. “I regret stopping for directions.”

“Look, man, that’s your fault,” Janice says. “Now about those collections; are you a coin collector or a beanie baby type of demon?”

The demon lets out a longer sigh.