Kayla And The Devil

by Bryan Smith

  Kayla was tired. She wanted the devil to either leave or stop fucking around and drag her down to hell, if that’s what he had planned. “Swell. So…again, why are you telling me about this, if it wasn’t part of the bargain?”

  “Mr. Galbreath was in a car accident two days ago. He was killed instantly.”

  Kayla frowned. “Okay. So…that’s too bad…I guess. I still don’t get it, though.”

  “It’s simple. Mr. Galbreath was to surrender his soul to me upon reaching the end of his natural life. I can see the question in your eyes. I did not arrange the accident. It was simply his time, as old ladies like to say at funerals. Obviously his soul is now in my possession, thus completing our bargain.”

  Kayla’s frown deepened. “You mean…”

  “Yes. I am no longer obligated to adhere to the terms of our deal. His soul is mine, and I can undo the spell causing your troubles if I so choose.”

  Kayla’s heart started beating faster. “Seriously?”

  The devil nodded. “Seriously.”

  Kayla knew there had to be a catch. A really big one in all likelihood. Something horrible, possibly. She thought about that. This was the devil she was dealing with here. So strike the ‘possibly’ part. Something horrible was an absolute lock to be part of the equation. But she tried to imagine what her life would be like should she refuse to bargain with him. Tried to picture herself successfully enduring years or decades of living as a shunned outcast, unable to interact in even the most basic ways with the rest of humanity.

  No more sex. Ever.

  No more companionship of any type.

  She met the devil’s gaze again and said, “What do I have to do?”

  8.

  “A sacrifice? Are you fucking kidding me!?”

  The devil winced. “Do you have to scream?”

  Kayla screamed again just to spite him. She filled her lungs to maximum capacity and just let loose. The sound was massive. It was the sound of every silver screen bimbo ever chased through the woods in a slasher movie somehow all mashed into one ripping explosion of jagged, nerve-frying noise. The devil looked stunned, which was immensely gratifying. If the other career paths she had in mind didn’t work out, she might have a future acting in low-budget horror films. Stranger things had happened.

  Exhibit A, standing right the fuck in front of her.

  The devil’s pained look gave way to an expression of simmering anger. “Don’t do that again.”

  Gosh, he sounded really peeved this time.

  Kayla smiled and opened her mouth to let ‘er rip again.

  The devil raised a finger and shook his head.

  The only sound that came out of Kayla’s mouth was a strained wheeze. She cleared her throat and tried again. The result was another wheeze, this one hoarser than the first. She cleared her throat again and tried to speak.

  More wheezing, followed by wide-eyed, panicked silence.

  The devil looked smug again. “Will you scream again if I restore your speech?”

  Kayla shook her head so emphatically she almost gave herself whiplash. Living under the effects of a Satanic spell that caused people to react as if she were covered head-to-toe in oozing, ugly sores was bad enough. At least with a voice she could still communicate with people, even if they wanted nothing to do with her. But she couldn’t bear the thought of being a mute pariah. If that happened, she really would kill herself.

  The devil smirked. “Good girl. You can talk now.”

  Kayla coughed. “Fucking asshole.”

  A demonic chuckle. “Bitch.”

  “If you were a regular guy, I’d so slap the shit out of you right now.”

  “Again with the kinky talk. You really are my kind of girl, Kayla.”

  Kayla gritted her teeth. Another scream was bubbling up inside her and she couldn’t afford to give in to her anger again. It wasn’t possible to stay completely calm in a situation as messed-up as this one, but the course of her future depended on her doing her best to do just that.

  Someone knocked on the door. “What’s going on in there? I heard screaming.”

  Kayla recognized the voice of Martha Atwater, the obese resident advisor assigned to her floor. Martha’s room was just two doors down on the opposite side of the hall. She’d undoubtedly heard Kayla’s outburst loud and clear.

  The devil kept his eyes on Kayla and barked a command out the side of his mouth: “Go away!”

  A brief silence ensued.

  Then came another knock on the door. “Sir, open this door right now. I need to see that the girls assigned to this room are okay. You’ve got five seconds to comply, or I’m calling the cops.”

  The devil’s familiar smirk resurfaced. “Or, option three, you’ll drop dead.”

  Another brief, shocked silence.

  Then: “What? Look…I…”

  Kayla glanced at the door as Martha’s voice became pained and trailed off. An abrupt, thunderous crash from the other side of the door made her gasp. Her head snapped back toward the devil. “What’s happening?”

  “Cardiac arrest.”

  Kayla brushed past the devil and snatched up the phone from her bedside table.

  The devil eyed her quizzically. “What are you doing?”

  “Calling 911.”

  “Put the phone down.”

  “Fuck you. I’m not letting that woman die because of me.”

  The devil grinned. “Ah, so now you have a conscience. Not that it matters. She’s already gone.”

  The tip of Kayla’s forefinger rested lightly on the phone’s “9” button. She hadn’t pressed it yet. “What…what do you mean?”

  “Oh, I think you know.”

  Kayla swallowed hard. “Spell it out for me.”

  The devil drew a forefinger across his throat, miming the arc of an artery-slicing blade. “I mean she’s gone, as I said. As in finished. Kaput.”

  “She’s dead?”

  The devil rolled his eyes. “For a smart girl, you can be really slow on the uptake. Yes, that’s what I mean.”

  Kayla set the phone down, letting the receiver slip back into the cradle from suddenly numb fingers. Her eyes filled with tears again. “You didn’t have to do that.”

  The devil shrugged and kept on smiling. “You’re right. I didn’t have to do it. But it was expedient, so I did.”

  There were other voices in the hallway now, followed by shrill cries of panic. Someone was yelling at someone else to call 911. The grief evident in the voices she was hearing clawed at Kayla’s heart. Martha was well-liked by the girls on floor number ten.

  The devil put a hand on her shoulder. “It’s nothing to do with you now. Put her out of your mind. She’ll appear to have perished of natural causes. We can continue with our business now.”

  Kayla shrugged his hand away and brushed past him again, putting a bit of distance between them as she put her back to the sink. She glanced at Sheila, who was still staring blankly up at the ceiling. She remained completely oblivious. Nothing was penetrating. What he’d done to her seemed even creepier in the wake of Martha’s murder.

  She glared at the devil again, aching to hurl insults at him. But she refrained, knowing he would only revel in them. “Okay. Business, then. You’re offering to free me from the shunning spell if I bring you a sacrifice.” She grunted. “I’m gonna go ahead and guess you don’t mean a goat.”

  The devil laughed. “Goats are cute creatures, but are of no real use to me. You’re thinking of Santeria and things like that. Voodoo. You won’t appease me with an animal offering. Unfortunately for you, I’m afraid I only accept human spiritual currency.”

  “You want me to kill a human being. A man.”

  “Don’t be sexist, Kayla.” The devil smiled. “Your offering can be a woman. A female offering is even sort of preferable, though I won’t make it a requirement.”

  “And if I do this, I’m free, right? You won’t bother me again?”

  “My, my, it sounds as if you’re ac
tually considering this.”

  “I just want to be sure I have this all straight in my head. I’m not committing to anything yet, not without knowing all the possible ways this shit could go wrong.” She considered her choice of words and frowned again. “More wrong, I mean.”

  “If you agree today to attempt a human sacrifice, I’ll modify the black magic hindering you. You’ll still be largely shunned, though not as vehemently. And a small percentage of people will revert to treating you as they normally would. The challenge for you will be in selecting a suitable victim from among those newly willing to endure your company.”

  “I can’t just stalk and kill anyone I want? Some enemy?”

  The devil shook his head. “No. I could let you do that, of course, but it’s more interesting to me this way. The offering has to be someone willing to let you get close to them. Someone you can seduce, perhaps.”

  Kayla scowled. “You mean I have to fuck this poor bastard before I cut his throat?”

  “That’s up to you. It’s not a requirement. But you do have to get close to the person. Make him…or her, let’s not forget the female option here…” He leered at her. “…make the person you choose like you, if you can. Once you’ve done that, you can go ahead and do what you have to do.”

  “Commit murder.”

  “Well, that’s one word for it, yes. Another thing. Your sacrifice cannot be a person on the verge of death already. There’s no mercy killing loophole here, so don’t go prowling around any nursing homes.”

  “And that’s really all there is to it? Get close to someone, some healthy person, kill him, then it’s over and I can get on with my life. Is that right?”

  “There’s a little more to it than that.”

  Kayla groaned. “Of course there is.”

  “Oh, we’ve covered most of the big details, except for one. We need to talk about that, and we need to establish some more parameters for the successful completion of this task.”

  “What’s the last big detail?”

  “We’ll get to that in a minute. First the parameters.” He held up a finger. “The number one thing is the matter of a time limit.”

  Kayla’s eyes bugged out. “A time limit? Come on, this is gonna be hard enough as it is, now you’re putting me under the gun, too? You sadistic fuck.”

  The devil chuckled. “You’re even sexier when you’re angry, Kayla. Did you know that? Anyway, yes, you will have a time limit. One week from today, in fact.”

  Kayla gaped at him. “I couldn’t possibly work up the nerve to off a motherfucker in a week. You must be out of your mind.”

  The devil was smiling as she said this. “Not at all. This is an amusing game, this chance I’m giving you, but my patience for it isn’t infinite. I want to see it play out over a relatively short time.” Now his voice became harsher, his expression more severe. She saw a flash of red in his eyes again, only this time it burned brighter and longer before giving way to an unsettling shade of black. “One week, Kayla.” He held up a finger again for extra emphasis. “Then, after you have identified and eliminated your target, you must bring me physical proof of what you have done. A trophy.”

  The meaning of what he was saying hit Kayla like a hard punch to the gut. “You mean, like, their…head…or something?”

  The devil smiled. “Again, up to you. The head would certainly suffice. So would a hand. Or fingers. Private parts, even. Whatever you prefer.”

  Kayla’s mind zoomed in on one aspect of what he’d said and focused on it with terrible intensity.

  Private parts, even.

  She swallowed sour bile.

  Oh fuck. Oh, Christ, how do I get out of this?

  He was talking again. She fought back her revulsion and focused on what the devil was saying. “…the important thing for you to remember is your time frame. Come meet me in the park one week from today, same place and time we met today, and bring your trophy with you. As soon as I’m satisfied that you’ve performed as required, you’ll be released from the shunning spell and you’ll be allowed to live out the rest of your mortal life as a completely free woman.”

  Kayla’s bullshit detector went on instant full alert.

  There was a possible huge catch implicit in his words.

  “The rest of my mortal life?”

  The devil nodded. “Well, that brings us around to the final detail. This is the biggie. The deal killer, maybe. I want your soul, Kayla.”

  Kayla glanced at her hands and noticed they had started to shake. It was sinking in that this wasn’t some huge cosmic practical joke. She’d accepted the reality of the situation a while back. He’d dragged her down to hell, for fuck’s sake. And yet the full weight and meaning of it all hadn’t quite hit her until just now.

  This was all completely real.

  And there was no good way out of any of it.

  On the one hand, the direction in which she wanted to believe she was leaning (because to choose otherwise would mean accepting that she was some kind of monster, no better than the devil himself), a life of horrible isolation faced her.

  On the other hand…

  She let out a breath and spoke in a low voice: “My…soul?”

  “Yes, Kayla, you must pledge your soul to me now, in the same moment you accept the task of performing a sacrifice. Do these things, freely turn over your soul to me and take the life of another human being, and you’ll be allowed to live a full and happy life here on earth. You can have everything you ever wanted. Wealth. Success. Material things. Pleasures of the flesh. I can even provide assists now and then to help you along your path.”

  Kayla shuddered. “But when I die…”

  A terse nod from the devil. “Yes. Then you are mine.”

  Kayla’s eyes were wet again. “And I’ll burn in that ocean of fire.”

  “That ocean isn’t for everyone, Kayla. I have favored acolytes, just as my counterpart does. Ask yourself this--do you imagine I take this kind of special interest in mortals on a regular basis?”

  Kayla frowned. “What are you saying?”

  “I’m saying nothing. Promising nothing. Only offering…possibilities. Not all of them bad, not even the ones awaiting you after your demise. To say more would be giving away the game entirely. And what fun is there in that for me?”

  Kayla found herself unable to respond to that.

  She was thinking.

  Thinking hard.

  The devil tapped his wrist, indicating an imaginary watch. “Tick-tock, Kayla. Time’s running out. I need a decision now.”

  Kayla spent a few more moments focusing on the reality of what her life would be like should she decline the devil’s offer. She was a good person. A decent person. She really thought so, anyway. She was sorry for what had happened to Rebecca Galbreath. But she was also a deeply self-centered person. She’d spent so much of her life adored and even idolized by so many people she met. How could she willingly give up ever knowing what that was like again, even knowing the terrible price she’d have to pay?

  She thought some more, turning it all over in her head again and again.

  Her heart was beating faster again. And louder, like a gong resonating in her chest.

  The devil tapped his wrist again. “Tick-tock, tick-tock, tick-tock.” He snapped his fingers, making Kayla blink. “Time’s up!”

  Kayla held her breath.

  The devil’s smile was sly and oh-so-knowing. “I suppose I’ll be going now…”

  “Wait!”

  The devil arched an eyebrow. “Yes?”

  She looked him in the eye without flinching, resignation settling in her body like a heavy weight. “I’ll do it.”

  9.

  The devil reviewed the terms and conditions of their agreement a final time, asked her to confirm that she understood what she was agreeing to (and received the answer in a grim, tight-faced nod), and then he was gone.

  As in, poof!

  One second he was there, the next the space he occupied was
empty. Despite her deepening dread, Kayla had to admit that was a damn impressive ability. It had to be a real kick being able to do that. Just go anywhere you wanted by willing it to happen. If she could do that, she’d transport herself somewhere else right now, maybe to some glamorous European city, an old place steeped in culture and interesting history, and populated with cool, well-dressed people with cute accents. Paris. Rome. London. Somewhere awesome and chic like that, where no one knew who she was and had never heard of Rebecca fucking Galbreath. Maybe it was something she could do one day should she manage to become one of the devil’s “favored” acolytes.

  Kayla turned that last thought over in her head again and didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. Her life’s major hopes and dreams had all been swept away, replaced, at least for now, by one overriding goal--seeking the devil’s approval.

  The devil.

  The fucking devil.

  Satan himself.

  Beelzebub.

  Ol’ Scratch.

  She’d just concluded an in-depth conversation with the lord of the underworld, the prince of fucking darkness, the star of a million bad horror movies and millions more bad dreams. The ultimate boogeyman. She didn’t know it for sure, but she had an inkling it was a privilege few people alive could claim. In a twisted way, it was almost as if she’d been granted an exclusive audience with royalty.

  Crying.

  She definitely felt like crying.

  But before the waterworks could really erupt, a husky, sleepy voice intruded on her thoughts.

  “K-Kayla…is that you?”

  Kayla jumped. She’d forgotten there was another person in the room. She turned away from the sink and looked at Sheila, who’d propped herself up on her elbows and was blinking fuzzily at her. “Yeah. It’s me.”

  “What’s all that fuss out in the hall?”

  The ‘fuss’ was dying down. The paramedics had already come by to examine and collect Martha Atwater’s body.