The Best Laid Deals

The weathered wood creaked under the weight of the elderly man who eased into it, lowering himself with the aid of a cane. Each year he climbed to the top of the hill. This year would be the last. As he stared out towards the setting sun, its glow illuminated eyes that still sparked with life. And oh what a life he had led!

As the sun touched ground and the sky grew dark. a figure sank down next to him without a sound. Not even a whisper came from the bench, as if he weighed nothing. "Hello again, Sebastian."

A quiet nod. "Good evening, old man."

"Ah, so I'm the old man now?"

With a chuckle, he set his cane down against the bench. "You've lived longer than I, wouldn't you say you've earned that title?"

"I'm not certain I'd call it living." The stranger tipped his hat, a tall affair with a black ribbon on black satin. "You, on the other hand, have done well for yourself over the last century."

"A full century." Twinkling eyes grew brighter. "How I have enjoyed it."

The stranger considered his companion. "You could go again, you know. Start fresh in a new body, maybe try a different model? Females have more fun, I hear."

He shook his head. "Nope. One good life is enough for me." He continued to watch until the last rim of daylight finally disappeared, blanketing them in nightfall. "I am ready to pay for many years of happiness."

"Are you sure?" The stranger peered into him, trying to view past the glimmer.

"Absolutely."

"What about your wife? You won't see her again."

"We spent seventy-five years together, she's likely tired of me." He smirked warmly.

"What about your children? You won't see them grow."

"I've seen them grow plenty. And their children, and even their children. They're doing just fine without me."

The stranger licked his lips with an almost snake-like manner. "Sebastian, you made this decision as a much younger man. Surely you realize now what a mistake it was. One hundred years against the balance of eternity?"

"Are you claiming the devil made me do it?" Sebastian laughed, his old bones shaking under his sweater. "I don't remember you twisting my arm."

"I usually don't need to." The stranger replied softly. "You all come to me."

"And I don't regret a thing." Sebastian gripped his cane and stood, slowly raising off the bench which groaned again with the motion. "It's my time. I'm ready to pay, old man."

Without a sound, the stranger rose and faced him. "Sebastian, I'm sorry. You paid me a long time ago. I've nothing left to collect." He stared him down, willing him to argue back.

The old man frowned, confused. "Really? You took it then?"

"No refunds or exchanges. Payment due at time of signing. Same terms for everyone." From a dark coat pocket he withdrew a piece of parchment, signed in red. "You've already paid in full."

"Oh. Guess it's true you don't really miss it." With a shrug, he waited. "So...do I go down now?"

"I'm afraid not, Sebastian."

"Huh?"

Moving like the growing shadows in the moonlight, the stranger circled him. "Every soul I've taken lessens a man. In some small, unmeasurable way. The greed and desperation that drove them to me feed on the empty shell I leave behind. Except you." Burning embers of red glowed beneath the hat. His tone became a low hiss. "You went on living happily. Peacefully. With no regrets or remorse. You settled down, built a home, raised god-fearing little ingrates and then after seventy-five years with the same damn woman you laid her to rest and came here, punctual as a dog running back to its master."

Sebastian shook his head. "I don't understand."

"Oh? Let me spell it out for you then." The stranger grew taller, stretching over the short, spindley old man before him. A wicked wind licked the air as his coat blew about, shrouding Sebastian in even blacker darkness than the night. "You earned your place in paradise, you blessed little brat. I have no right now to claim you. I may have taken your soul, but apparently the true prize was your damned heart."

A sharp pain rose in Sebastian's chest as he stumbled backwards, falling to the ground alongside his cane which blew to the earth in a gust of demonic wind. "I...I didn't mean to cheat you..." he stammered, the soft tufts of hair left on his head blowing wildly. "I swear!"

"Cheat me? Who do you think I am, a second-rate poker player!?" His voice echoed into the valley below. "I AM THE DEVIL INCARNATE, SEBASTIAN ORTEGA!" The wind whipped into a feverish pitch, the leaves and grasses pulled into a swirling vortex that glistened in the now crimson moon above. Faster and faster they twirled, circling Sebastian as he clutched his breast. They seemed to suck the wind from his very lungs and he gasped, unable to breathe. He fell backwards, his mouth open and his eyes tearing up from the wind. As he convulsed on the ground the devil watched, his red eyes boring into the old man until at long last his heart gave out, its steady rhythm falling still along with the air. His eyes closed quietly, their light extinguished.

Standing over him, the stranger shrank to mere mortal measurements once more, and considered. Leaning down, he whispered into the old man's ear. "No one cheats the devil. A deal is a deal." Picking up the cane, he tapped it lightly to the brim of his hat and turned away. "Enjoy your eternity, Sebastian Ortega. You truly earned it."

And with a swish of the cane, he strode back down the hill.