Consequence Of Dealing With The Devil

A demon goes to receive payment from one of her victims.

The last time I met with Tom, we were in a small, dingy apartment across from the liquor store on the more shady side of town. 

The lamp in the living room sparsely illuminated a moldy couch and an old rickety coffee table, and the source of the rotten, apocalypse"inspiring smell in the kitchen. 

Tom sat on the moldy couch, while I stood on the other side of the small room. Tom was a young, although rundown man with long hair and patched clothes who'd be considered handsome if his face wasn’t gaunt and clammy from all the drinking he did, and if he went in for a haircut every once in a while. He twirled a cigarette between his lips, and I knew he was waiting for me to say something. 

“Your payment is long overdue Tom.” I said in my silkiest, most seductive voice. Tom cringed, before taking the cigarette from his mouth and putting it out in a gritty ashtray on the coffee table. “You know why I’m here.” Tom shifted in his seat. 

I knew what I looked like to Tom. To men, I was the most attractive woman they’d ever seen. The perfect fantasy. And to Tom, I was an attractive twenty"something with long, glossy black hair and huge dark eyes. My lips were full and blood red, and I was model curvy with a sizeable a*s and C- cup breasts. I looked like the type of woman that is  cast as the love interest and sex symbol in those action movies with car explosions and impossible plot lines. Tonight I wore a s****y black dress and heels. 

“Tom.” I sauntered over to him and straddled his waist. My tight little dress rode up past my hips. I slipped off the heels. I looped my arms around his neck, and leaned in close. He was sweaty and his pulse jumped. 

“Look,” he gasped, “I’ll get you your payment. I just need more time. I promise you’ll get it, just a few more weeks." I smiled before pressing my lips to his temple.

“You’re pathetic Tom,” I crooned against his skin. “Silly little humans think they can have more time.” He gulped. Chuckling, I grazed my teeth across his skin. He shuddered. This was my favorite part of the kill: drawing out death, fantasy turned nightmare. “I work for the Devil, Tom. You knew that when you made that deal. And a deal with the Devil isn’t something you can just,” I paused, “Avoid.” I inhaled deeply the scent of human: sweat and heat and blood and earth. “Mmmm. You were foolish Tom, to make a deal you couldn’t fulfill.”

“But you knew I wouldn’t be able to fulfill my part of the bargain, didn’t you?” he asked. Throwing my head back, I laughed. 

“Oh, you are less stupid than I thought! Off course, puny little s**t human! If I knew you were able to pay up when the time came, I wouldn’t have taken the deal!”

“So what? Are you going to kill me?” 

“Yes.” I hissed, leaning in close again.

“Then get on with it,” he demanded stiffly. I laughed again, and gripping the dagger that appeared in one hand, I used the other to brush his hair away from his face. His pulse was wild, he heart beat erratically. His breaths were short, quick. He closed his eyes. He was ready to die.

"Look at me, Tom." I demanded. His eyes were wide and bloodshot as they stared into mine.

I pressed my lips to his, kissing him thoroughly, enjoying the taste of the rot and smoke of his mouth. The kiss seemed to go on for ages, I was so hungry. But I knew this was the best way. This was the way that avoided the most struggle from my victims. I plunged the dagger into his gut. He didn’t scream; it was the slowing of his pulse and the weak beating of his heart that told me he was dead. His lips became limp, and the scent of blood filled the shithole apartment. I grinned. 

Dinner.