The Devil's in the Details

When Minerva tried to summon a demon, she had never expected to actually be successful, let alone be so well-versed in the art of conjuring that she would accidentally will The Devil themself from their infernal home.

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    “Well look who it is.” The Devil said, languid words oozing with smugness. 

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    Smoothing over her shock with a practiced hand, Minerva simply replied “Look who it is indeed.”

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    Though Minerva’s birdnest of a flat barely had room for her to comfortably live, The Devil seemed to be right at home in the space Minerva had cleared between her couch and her TV for this very purpose.

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    “Weren’t expecting someone like me were you?” a flash of blinding white against the orange haze that had overtaken Minerva’s flat indicated a smirk. 

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    Momentarily foregoing her mask, Minerva muttered, “I wasn’t expecting results at all.”

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    “You ask and we deliver.” They replied, arms splayed. “Now tell me, what matter is so urgent you need help from the Demon Realms?” 

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    Minerva bit her lip.

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    “Oh don’t tell me you’re backing out now.” They crooned, clearly taking great joy in Minerva’s sudden discomfort. “You should be lucky you didn’t actually summon someone lower on the ‘food chain’ as it were. Those lowlifes are always looking for an excuse to show off whatever pathetic excuse for demonic power they have and would have scared you senseless I’m sure.” 

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    “I’m not scared.” Minerva shot back much too quickly.

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    “Sure you’re not.”

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    “I just told you I’m not.”

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    “Mmm-hmm” They made a noncommittal noise in the back of their throat but Minerva refused to admit to the fear currently seeping through the cracks in her heart and infecting her body. 

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    “So, what can I do for you? I don’t have all night.” The Devil asked, straightening the lapels of their crisp-cut suit as they took in the clouded apartment.

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    Minerva rolled her eyes. “Yes, I’m sure you’re very busy. What with all the reaping of souls and whatnot.”

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    “Oh please,” they snorted, a rather non-demonic flourish, “Me? Reap souls? As if.”

    “You don’t reap souls?”

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    “Child, the Grim Reaper reaps souls. It’s in the name.” They replied, exasperated. “Mortals.”

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    “And you…?”

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    “Rule over the pits of Hell, damn souls for eternity, and,” another toothy grin flashed, “broker deals with hopeless humans such as yourself.”

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    Right. Her deal. 

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    The Devil cleared their throat, “Well? I did say I was busy.” 

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    Minerva straightened, still refusing to be cowed by the imposing figure The Devil cut through her cluttered living room. Pentagram etchings in schoolroom chalk contained the great beast but Minerva couldn’t help but feel a trickle of nervousness course through her veins as The Devil toyed with the invisible barriers.

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    “Let me guess,” they cut in again. “You want fame? Fortune perhaps? By the looks of this place I can see why that would be appealing.”

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    “Apologies if you can’t always be summoned to the sitting rooms of victorian mansions everyday,” Minerva huffed.

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    “Apology not accepted.” 

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    “I-”

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    “Besides, I truly do not miss the Victorian Era. All my customers were so boring.” they exclaimed. “Women begging to get out of some arranged marriage, men looking to double the success of whatever puny business they thought would ‘shape humanity’. Such a lack of opulence, truly.”

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    Minerva gaped at them, somewhat shocked that they could speak of decades worth of history in such a casual manner.

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    “Now the 1920s? That was a time to be striking deals! Speakeasies, glitzy parties each brimming with more oblivion than the last, truly a golden age of my rule.” They said with a conspiratorial smile.

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    “Shame it only lasted ten years.” Minerva deadpanned.

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    Again, The Devil ignored her blatant sarcasm. “A shame indeed.” 

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    “Now? My deal?” Minerva asked, growing tired of The Devil’s reminiscence.

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    Shaken back to the present and out of whatever illegal revel they were currently indulging in nearly a century ago, their eyes unclouded. The Devil rocked forward on triangle-toed heels, glittering tar-black in the dim light, with a cruel smile tripping over their lips.

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    “But of course!” They replied. “Tell me what you want.”

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    “And that’s that?” Minerva asked.

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    “Of course not, insolent mortal,” darkness shadowed their knife-sharp cheekbones, “everything I give comes with a price.”

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    “A price?”

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    “Proprietors of Hell are not yard sale attendants.” The Devil scoffed. “Obviously everything comes with a price. Have you read no children’s stories?”

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    “I have.”

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    “Then you know we do nothing for free.”

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    “Yes but what kind of price?”

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    “Depends on the severity of your favor.”

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    Minerva pursed her lips.

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    “Prepare yourself for anything, child.” The Devil cooed. 

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    Bracing herself for the upcoming barrage of raised eyebrows and judgemental glances, Minerva sucked in a breath. “I want to bring her back.”

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Just as predicted, The Devil leaned forward, testing the invisible boundaries of their pentagram enclosure. “Who?”

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“Don’t play coy,” Minerva snapped, “I’m sure you know exactly who.”

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Their grin overtook their gaunt face. “Indeed I do...indeed I do.” 

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“And…?”

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“Oh please, don’t look at me like that,” The Devil scoffed, waving stiletto fingers at Minerva’s questioning stare. “Of course I can do the deed.”

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Minerva let out a soft breath of relief.

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“For the right price?” 

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“For the right price.” The Devil confirmed. 

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“And what would that be?” Minerva dared to ask.

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“Well,” they mused, “you’re getting something you love so why not lose something you love in the process?”

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“An eye for an eye?”

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“A tooth for a tooth, a life for a life!” The Devil exclaimed, sinister enthusiasm seeping from every bony joint of their body.

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Minerva squinted at them, swearing as the red-hot mist thickened.

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“What would you have me give up?”

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“Oh you won’t necessarily be giving me anything.” The Devil replied. 

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“I don’t understand.”

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“By making this deal with me, your dear dear lover girl will be brought back from the fiery infernos of my blessed home to your world. Which means I will be one mortal soul short. That being said-”

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“I’ll give my soul for hers!” Minerva exploded. Thinking of nothing but the way the words ‘lover girl’ had rolled off The Devil’s wicked tongue.

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“Oh you’d love that wouldn’t you. So noble and self-sacrificing.” The Devil cooed, “but guilt is a much more enjoyable punishment than damnation. For me at least.”

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“What are you saying?” Minerva asked, wondering if her outburst was even less beneficial than she’d originally thought.

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“You’re choosing a soul to return so I’ll give you the opportunity to choose a beloved soul in your life to give to me.”

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Minerva’s stomach squelched with guilt and the knowledge that despite the fact that she would damn some undeserving friend to a hellish fate, she’d do it in a heartbeat for Lydia.

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“For Lydia?” The Devil asked, as if reading her thoughts.

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Minerva’s face was a steel vault, unforgiving and unyielding. “For Lydia.”