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The last of the congratulatory cheers died down. It was just me and him, standing before our loved ones. Me and him: finally engaged. But in the back of our private dining room, a dry cackle steadily increased in volume.

I ignored it. I preferred to get lost in Tristan’s handsome face. Hold his hands. But as the cackling grew, I watched the joy seep out of Tristan’s smile. His hands shrank away from mine and clung to each other instead.

We both looked to the source of the laughter.

I thought it strange that I hadn’t noticed this peculiar woman all night. The old lady wore a long emerald robe laced with gold sequins. An eyepatch obscured her right eye. And she openly laughed in our direction, clapping to herself. Her long golden nails tapped together with each clap.

--

That's what I have so far! Happy to write more if people want it. Otherwise, thanks for reading :)

I had been living my life thinking that I was safe from the devil, but now I had to face the truth. I felt betrayed and angry, knowing that my dad had sold me without my knowledge.

I could not believe that he had been willing to sacrifice his own son for gain. I knew that I had to find a way to escape my fate, even if it meant that I had to go against my dad.

I started to search for a way to break the deal my dad had made with the devil. Unfortunately, I had no luck and time was running out. As the day of my wedding approached, I started to feel hopeless.

On the night of my wedding, the devil finally arrived. He revealed that my dad had not kept the promise and offered me the chance to take his place. I was horrified that I had no choice but to accept.

If I had known the truth all those years ago, I could have done something to prevent this from happening. I am now the devil's servant, until the end of my days.

My only hope is that my dad one day realizes the consequences of his actions, and that my sacrifice will not be forgotten.

Somewhere along the way I got lazy. I lost the edge my dad had raised me to have. Son of a bitch that he is, I can’t say he didn’t try to make up for it in his own way. I don’t think he expected to have me in his life for too long. My mistake was dropping my guard. His was getting attached.

When we’re at our lowest points in life, humans can get a bit desperate. A starving man may steal so that he can eat, someone dying of thirst may dig into the earth until their fingers bleed to find water. We pray to whoever will hear us in our darkest hours, and we’ll take any hand that reaches down to pull us up. My dad did just that somewhere in a desert fighting in a war no one should’ve fought in the first place. With his unit all but decimated and enemies closing in, he reached out for a miracle and was met instead with a bargain.

What is the price of a human life? What about the price of 13? It may surprise you to find out that whether it’s one or 100, the price is almost always a flat rate: a soul not your own. That of a loved one or one that is not yet known to you. The bargain struck was his life for that of his first born child. I don’t know what he saw pinned down by gun fire, he can’t rightly tell me what he saw either, but he does remember shaking the hand of something that made his blood boil in his veins. Within a matter of minutes, 13 men were slain and scattered to the wind, while one got to go home.

Here’s the thing about my father. From that day forward he said his luck was unbelievable. He was given a commendation for his “service”, came home to an abundance of opportunity, and somewhere along the way he met a woman. This is where dear old dad thought he could trick the devil. It wasn’t long after his return that he had a vasectomy. He made sure to make quick friends with his urologist, and had regular check ups to ensure his potential for having children was DOA. The woman didn’t mind and was happy to forgo a child to share in their love together for years and years to come. Old man was set for life.

Except two years after the wedding an unexpected surprise shook the very foundation of their love. Imagine his surprise when his wife wound up pregnant. He was beside himself. She was devastated because she had never even kissed another man, much less slept with one. But how could it be that she was with child when his line had been cut? Only the devil knows. I was their son without a doubt. I was a bargaining chip due.

My life should have been snuffed the moment I came into being. Perhaps some figure should’ve stolen me like a thief in the night. My father waited in agony for something, anything to happen to me. As he waited he grew close to me, as some fathers are want to do with their children. He raised me to be smart, measured, and strong. He was there for life’s milestones, my highs and my lows, and now he’s beaming at me on a pew as I await the love of my life to walk down the aisle.

When he told me what he’d done some time ago, I was dubious at first, shocked after that, and then livid to the point of violence. I got some good shots in on him. He didn’t resist. He couldn’t bring himself to do anything else but take his punishment. I left him a battered mess in his study. We didn’t talk for a time. Then I met her. I fell in love. We propped each other up, pushed one another to grow while offering each other comfort from the world around us. She helped me heal and was the catalyst for mending my relationship with my father.

He paid for the whole affair. He wouldn’t hear of her father for anything tradition be damned. If it weren’t for her detailed wedding book, I imagine he’d have planned the whole thing himself too. Thankfully he didn’t. His money is good but his taste is questionable. He’s smiling at me, tears welling up in his eyes. I’m smiling at him. A genuine smile with a fondness I’ve not felt for him a long time.

Now the wedding march. Everyone’s on their feet. The doors open and I’m stunned.

I’m frozen in place. Everyone around me has become wax statues with fixed features staring at the bride. I see her. I see it. I see my destiny decided for me long ago. It glides down the aisle with ease and snuffs out candles on the way. No one has moved or made any exclamations. They are a captive audience who may not even witness what is about to occur. Except for the man in the front pew. His tears flow down his cheeks without pause, a smile still plastered on his face.

It stands before me now and it looks like her, but I’ve already seen past the veil. It is here to hold up the agreement. I watch its lips part into a smile that could crack glass. It leans close to me. It whispers in my ear.

“To have and to hold, to love and cherish, till death—oh, no. I suppose that last bit doesn’t hold up here. You’re mine now…unless you would like to strike a bargain?”

A joke. A jest. It cackles as it takes me under.

I have so much to be grateful for in my life. Loving parents. A happy life. Great friends. Enough wealth to live comfortably. A wonderful little village, free of the issues that plague society. My father’s shop grew immensely successful and large enough that the townsfolk rushed to our village for merchandise.

I thought I had it all until I met the love of my life, Alice. She was a thing of beauty whose gentle face enveloped in kindness pierced me immediately. Before I met her, I thought I had loved other women but I learnt that it was all mere infatuation. A love that lived on sand dissolved by the sea.

Admiring her dedication in making armour in her forge, talking about everything under the sky with her, going on wonderful strolls through the forest, I knew I was actually in love. The day we both confessed our love, we danced and danced all through the night.

After months of deliberation and frolicking, we knew that it was right to get married.

It was tradition for the groom to propose to the bride at her house with his family on the day before the marriage. Marching along the road with my parents and relatives, my heart was throbbing with excitement at the last stage before our marriage. After that, Alice and I could build a new house, a new life together! Perhaps, even live at the coast for a few months. I couldn’t wait!

As we stood in front of her house waiting for them, a gentle yet cold breeze stirred up. Shivering a bit, we held ourselves closer.

“Quite unusual for the summer, eh?”, I muttered to no one in particular.

“Indeed so, quite unusual you’re getting married!”, my cousin laughed.

While the others laughed and joked around, my father had a nervous look about his face. His eyes were darting around the place and he started to sweat terribly. I nudged him and asked what was wrong.

“Son”, he said while looking around, “you will always be my son, whatever happens.”

That was a confusing reply. Before I could ask him more, the whole world grew darker suddenly. The cold gust stirred up again shaking the trees and grass. My soon-to-be wife and her family rushed out panicking.

As I was looking around puzzled, I felt a growing chillness around my neck. I held my neck to warm up but it seemed to make it worse. I started to panic and shout and then I saw it appear out of thin air. The ultimate nightmare of every villager, a creature with a face as blinding as the Sun but without its beauty, and a form twisted and bent in every way. A creature stripped of nature and charm. The Devil had appeared on Earth and its claws were fixed around my neck.

After a loud cackle, a booming voice erupted from its mouth.

It cast a malicious look at my father. “I’ve come back, fool. As agreed, your firstborn is mine. He shall enjoy the delights of my empire!”

He started to lift me up now. Even though I struggled and shifted, the iron grip around my neck was stronger than any noose.

“Oh evil one! I beg of you, please free my son from your grip!”, he pleaded.

“An oath is an oath, mortal. You sacrificed your firstborn to me for your ventures 25 years ago, and I have come back at last.”

An oath? Did my father sacrifice me for building our- no, his shop?

The devil had crushed my ability to speak, but I darted an angry look at my father. What was he even thinking then? How could he do that? And why did it have to be today? After all these years, after meeting Alice, before our marriage and life together? I could have gone with the devil as a baby without a clue or a word to protest!

My father’s face grew apologetic now. How I hate him, he has ruined the lives of everyone!

“Evil one, I beseech you, you have made a mistake!”

“A mistake?!”, the devil roared.

“By our oath, I granted you my firstborn. But the one you hold was not born of me! No child on this earth has been born from me, evil one.”

What is happening! I am not my father’s son?!

“Bah, you villainous human and your adopted bastards! Do not think I am done with you!” With another loud yell, he threw me down and vanished, bringing back the sunlight.

Everybody rushed to my side and looked concerned. A tearful Alice held me as I looked to my father.

“Forgive me that you had to hear it from the devil. You are adopted but you will always be my son.”

I smiled, “Only you could make the Devil your messenger, father.”

Whoa. Yes, that sucks.

I wonder about the fallout from this. Satan or a demon was able to enter a consecrated church, presumably because it was invited ... will this have broader metaphysical consequences? I could see a sequel where it's revealed that getting into a church was Satan's main goal all along.

Great story.

Wait, so father and son traded places? The father went to Hell and the son stays on Earth with a good life? That ... that seems like a really solid and selfless move on the father's part.

I don't see how the son has no choice but to accept. I think I missed something.

What a lazy demon.

The arrangements were all set, but I had that nagging feeling I’d forgotten something. It had taken me a long time to build up the courage to propose, and tonight was going to be the night. I’d followed all the rules. The restaurant was fancy, I’d spent enough on a ring, and I was pretty confident they’d say yes. All I had to do was relax and stay calm.

My phone vibrated. My father, a spectacularly successful fortune teller and occultist, had sent me a message. I didn’t hear from him very often.

“I’m so sorry. I did everything I could,” it read.

I was a little confused, and decided that he’d meant to send it to someone else. “Wrong number?” I typed, and hit send. I turned on the television, and began to watch whatever happened to be showing just to keep my mind off tonight.

My phone buzzed again. “No. I’ll explain in hell,” came the reply from my father. I scoffed and put the phone down on the arm of the sofa, more than a little confused. I’d deal with him later. Now wasn’t the time.

The television paused, and faded to black. A beautiful and starkly androgynous human-esque figure appeared on the screen, looking straight forward. They leaned forward. Crack. To my astonishment the screen appeared to have shattered, and before my next thought the figure was stood in front of me, chuckling to itself. I thought my nerves had finally pushed me over the edge.

“I love doing that,” it said, in such a refined voice. I closed my eyes. “Keep them open or I will open them for you,” it added, as if in reply.

“Who or what are you? You aren’t real,” I cried, in a rising panic.

“Oh. Just something you probably know as the Devil. Satan. Lucifer the Lightbringer – I love that one – Beeeelzebub,” it said, with a wry smile and dark look in its perfect eyes, “we’re going somewhere to have a little chat with your father. Clever man, but not quite enough.”

Before I could blink, we were sat at a huge, shiny black triangular table, in an even larger triangular room with no door and black marble walls. My father occupied a chair, and the Devil occupied another.

“The father, the son, and the, er… unholy spirit?” joked the Devil, with a loud hearty laugh that lasted a while longer than it should have, “look at us all here, together at last!”

My father had tears in his eyes. “I’m so sor-” he started saying to me, unable to look at me directly.

“Why don’t you start by telling him why we’re all here. Welcome, by the way, to hell,” said the Devil, addressing me and cutting across my father with a clear hint of cruelty.

I looked towards my father, and he just slumped down in his chair clearly unable to speak further. The Devil laughed again, then in an instant flew into a pure rage, then became much more sedate and serious. It was unnerving watching something that appeared so beautiful act in this odd and unpredictable way.

The Devil explained the deal it had made with my father. As a much younger man, he had started developing skills in the arcane and occult, and he wanted to use it to his advantage. He had learned that if he only asked, he could bargain with the Devil over anything he could find it in his heart to desire.

His desire was to protect the love of his life, my mother, from anything that might harm her. So, he asked the Devil for a successful career. The Devil, feeling this was a common enough ask, thought no more of it, but it did not realise the consequences of this ask from someone whose career goals were to tell the future and master the occult arts.

In return, the Devil told me – to my horror – that my father had agreed to give his firstborn child over to it in exchange for this favour. Secretly, he never expected to have any children, so he felt he had cheated the Devil. My father didn’t know that the Devil’s lust would reach so far and so quickly find its way between my parents. Nine months later, I was born.

To my surprise, the Devil said my father had spent more than the next two decades continually outsmarting it with his prodigious skill in the occult and fortune telling to protect me. I felt a flash of gratitude towards my father, but I quickly snapped myself out of it. This must be a weird nervous dream, and I will wake up soon enough.

“What your father didn’t realise,” said the Devil, with a dark but perfect smile, “is that no matter how many times he tried to save you, no matter how long it took, I only had to best him once and it would be over. I am incredibly patient.”

My father exhaled and sat back in his chair, looking up at the abyssal marble ceiling above. “Is there anything we can do to make this right?” he pled, now facing the Devil.

The Devil shook its head, “You know better than that. Your son is mine, I just wanted him to know it was your fault.”

I listened silently, and dared not consider this was real. A small spark of anger lit inside me.

The Devil began laughing, “Bet you didn’t see that coming eh? Fortune teller? Don’t worry, I’ll make it all look like an accident. Enjoy the rest of your career,” it said, and my father's seat was suddenly empty.

The Devil’s eyes turned black as it faced me. I went cold.

"You really expect me to believe my dad would've made a deal with you?"

The demon grimaced as she replied, "Look, Debbie, I know you have reason to believe I'm lying here, but I'm not. And your old man's already twenty three years overdue, so I'm not in the mood, okay?"

I couldn't believe what I was hearing; the story of my dad building up a successful bakery from the day he came to the States was one of the most inspirational stories I'd ever heard. But it wasn't even real? He promised me to a demon just so his business would get off the ground?

I pushed the demon away from me and said, "I won't believe this. My father is an honest man--"

"Yeah, but he was also a desperate man. I mean, first generation immigrant in this shitshow of a nation? Odds were long his bakery would succeed without my help. Of course, I needed payment for the transaction."

I sighed. "Me. You needed me."

The demon nodded and continued, "I don't know how he managed to keep you out of my grasp for so long, but I am fucking over it. You're coming with me."

"No no no no, please don't! There has to be another deal we can make! I'm about to propose to my girlfri--" An idea popped into my head. "Excuse me, what's your name?"

"Nessa."

"Nessa, did my dad ever give exact parameters on what he'd be giving you to me for?"

Nessa groaned and responded, "No, the entire point of this deal was that you would be given to me for my own purp--" I cut Nessa off by whispering my idea into her ear. Nessa promptly went wide eyed. "Well, that's certainly... enticing."

SIX MONTHS LATER

The sound of rolling waves and the tropical breeze dancing through the trees outside stirred me from my sleep. As I yawned and took in the sight of the hotel room bathed in the light streaming through the gaps in the curtain, I felt something warm and soft press into my back as a voice whispered, "Hey, guess what? We're married!" I chuckled as I turned to face my wife Edith, with her giant monster of light brown hair spread out on the pillow. I rested my hand on Edith's cheek as I purred, "You are never gonna get tired of saying that, are you?"

Nessa rolled over to toss an arm over me and nuzzle into my chest. "Would you?"

I concede to her point with a shrug as Edith looked at Nessa with a gasp. "Oh my gosh, we're married too! As Edith peppered Nessa with many relentless kisses, I started tickling the latter's tummy, sending her falling onto the bed laughing so hard she was crying. In between gasps, Nessa looked at us with a smile and wheezed out, "You assholes."

Edith giggled as she rested her head on my midsection and said, "So, what're we doing today?"

"I had a couple things in mind," I replied as I opened the notes app on my phone. "There's a luau happening tonight at the lagoon, we could do that swan boat island tour they mentioned, there's the golf course--any of this sounding good to you two?"

Edith raised her hand. "If we do all three, could we go golfing first? The golf clubhouse is right next to that breakfast buffet and I really want some pancakes."

Nessa excitedly patted on my belly. "Yessss, pancakes! What time does it open?"

I checked the clock on my phone before answering, "About an hour from now. We should probably get moving."

Nessa let out an exaggerated groan and said, "Oh, very well. But first..." Nessa then kissed the both of us deeply, one after the other. "My daily tribute to the greatest deal any devil has ever made."