A Demon's Bargain

I sat down, grateful for a moment’s peace. I just let myself sink into the comfy, old armchair, luxuriating in the feeling. Ugh, thank you, Dad! I had been waiting for this for hours, though it seemed like days. Had it been days? I wasn’t actually even sure.

Now, finally, I would watch the recent Reds game. Everyone had been under some very strict, very explicitly threatening orders not to discuss it around me, and so far, no one had fucked up.

At last! My hand neared the remote, and I began to let myself unwind. A real smile crossed my face. And just then, my cellphone rang.

No! Fire shot out of my nose, ears, the corners of my mouth, even my damned tear ducts, before I could make myself relax, I was instantly enraged! Fuck, that always happened, always! I reached in my pocket, and what I saw worried me enough to make me a somber man right away.

It was my boy, Andy! But he was out on a hunt, what the heck? A parent’s worried thoughts gripped me and I answered before the second ring. “Andy? Are you ok?”

I noticed Andy sounded… different. That niggling, protective, parental sense went into overdrive straightaway. Something was terribly wrong with my son! He was under contract; I hadn’t read it, but I could instinctively sense it. Was he hurt? Was he safe? “Father, I beseech you to visit me here on Earth, to vouch for me and my truthfulness-“

What the fuck? I didn’t have the patience for his flowery loquaciousness; I was an anxious father! I couldn’t contain myself any longer. “-Why can’t you make another contract? What’s going on? Never mind, I’ll be right there; just stay put, kid!”

I hung up and stared at my phone. For a moment I hesitated as a new horror filled me. Could it be that the unthinkable had finally happened? The one thing I had feared the most, ever since Andy had been born? I scowled; it seemed unlikely. Andy had proven over and over just how devoid of sentimentality he was, something I had come to blame myself for.

It was far more plausible that enemies of mine had discovered the secret I had tried to keep from everyone. If that were the case, they would regret interfering, as everyone else always had after trying to play such games with me. I would postpone the watching of all baseball games to perform their torture personally. Perhaps even into football season. They would pay. They would suffer for eternity in the Pits.

Full of questions and fearing for Andy, I put out feelers and searched for my son as I put my cellphone away. As soon as I found him, I jumped dimensions and raced through the distance, pell-mell, and prepared to wield hellfire.

Right before I arrived in an apartment, I sensed an unarmed, female human standing near Andy, with no other life forms present. Oh bollocks, I hadn’t really put any thought into that!

Quickly, I peeped shallowly into her mind, finding an absolute mess! What I saw gave me a sinking feeling regarding what Andy was about to tell me, this woman was clearly no trained assassin. Careful not to touch anything, I chose from between her rather meager selection of satanic preconceptions, trying not to feel insulted. Hmph! Obviously, she was not a religious woman. I decided to avoid any notion she was sweet on, as Andy was presumably eating this girl. Or at least trying to…

I grabbed hold of the physical, and materialized somewhere in Ohio. That made me sigh, as I thought of the game I still had yet to watch. I turned to see Andy and a young, pretty woman experiencing shock and awe at my sudden appearance. I wasn’t surprised, humans generally all did. Still, it did boost the old ego a bit. I decided to give her one mental point in her favor, whomever she was, to start off.

Notes

Did you guys know that Andy's real dad, real-Chris, is actually really awesome? (Insofar as I know real-Chris is not, in fact, Satan. This is called fan fiction for a reason.)

Chris' Twitter

He has a hilarious podcast called BBRAN, check it out:

BBRAN's soundcloud!

Andy's real mom, real-Amy, is also awesome, by the way. She spends hours every day answering Andy's fan mail.