When Dining with the Devil

The Devil sat back with a thick cigar and watched his world play.

Initially, as he always did, he had to admire the room. The wall of mirrors lay behind his head, meant to make the space appear infinite, with small chandeliers lining the ceiling along it. A black brocade pattern covered the walls on either side of the room. He reclined just slightly in the plush red leather of the wraparound booth reserved for him, with a red velvet rope blocking entry to all who might attempt to near him. The floor and ceiling and tablecloths were all a black void that could make the night look pale. The napkins matched the red of everything else in the room. A few gold filigree candleholders were placed opportunistically upon the walls, with a candelabrum atop the black baby grand piano, holding a single candle in the center of its five prongs.

He liked the bar the most, probably. The glossy black counter ran the length of the wall, only breaking off to allow a space for entrance into the kitchen. Red lights glowed beneath its lip and glinted off the black wrought iron bar stools he had designed himself. His family crest, rendered in rich red and gold, rested comfortably on the wall between shelves of the finest alcohol. Red carpeting covered the floor around the bar, but once it reached the dining room, it gave way to ebony wood shined to a mirror finish. Another red velvet rope blocked off the piano. He couldn’t have anyone interrupting his music, after all.

He inhaled deeply from the cigar and exhaled a thick cloud of dark smoke. Black smoke was reserved exclusively for him, a subtle way of setting himself apart. The lights glinted off of every polished surface in the room, and the mirrors blinked it all back in perfect fashion. Everything appeared just slightly distorted to give patrons the idea that they were no longer in the real world, which, of course, they weren’t. Most importantly, everything not black was red, but not a deep, crimson red reminiscent of blood. He dealt with human blood every day of his existence, and he had quickly tired of the shade. This red was brighter but not painful to the eyes. It was not ruby, nor wine, nor rouge, for it was not the color of love. It was not cherry red or candy apple red or spiced pepper red, as such connections could lead to happy memories that could not be had in Hell. Fire engine red and beet red and Victorian Rose red all differed from it. No, it was his red, his perfect shade, and one that nothing could ever match. It was the Devil’s red.

He had to smile. It was nice to be able to wear a suit for once; though, of course, he could easily wear one whenever he wanted to, it was hardly preferred for his profession. He chose to save it for special occasions, anyway, and tonight certainly fell into the category.

His son approached, clothed in the attire required of all the waiters at the restaurant: black dress shirt, black jacket, black pants, and black shoes, along with a red tie. As an added touch, both of them had tucked triangularly folded red handkerchiefs into the pockets of their jackets. That, and his slightly longer, one-shade-darker hair were the only things distinguishing the teenager from the others working there. His face was blank of expression, but his crystalline hazel eyes betrayed his worry to his father. It was something even the Devil could understand, though he hardly allowed himself the same luxury. He nodded once to acknowledge the boy’s presence and present state of emotion, and, bowing low and averting his eyes to the floor, his son returned to the very front of the house to take care of any waiting customers.

The night was yet young, but already the place was buzzing with activity. A familiar vein of variety pulsed throughout the restaurant. Human souls dined with demons. Princes ate with prostitutes. Appearance took a backseat to good company. He did not care; he was impartial to them all. The rest of Hell was designed specifically to facilitate chaos and destruction, so he found it only natural that there should be a place for his subjects to relax. His only rule was that they act civilized within the confines of the restaurant. As of yet, none had dared to break that rule.

The Devil had his fill of the cigar and sent it to the Void with a brush of his fingers. It would be improper to smoke in the presence of his guest. He did not need it to calm himself or as the result of a crippling drug habit. It simply complemented the classy style he loved so much, and so he smoked. Cancer and emphysema never endangered him; in fact, he had never suffered so much as a slight cough. Perhaps the only thing more necessary to his image than the smoking was the needed ability to stop when the time arose, and when the situation called for it, he always did.

“Right this way.”

He glanced up as his son’s whispered, musical words reached his ears. He could have chosen not to react at all. It was his domain, after all. Here he was God. If he wanted to, he could have listened in on every thought, foreseen every action, added pain to every sin, and at one time he had. But it had only been fun for a while, and so he chose instead to let the thoughts and actions of Hell’s inhabitants remain blank to him. As a result, he did not realize his son was leading his guest to the table until the words of greeting were spoken, so it took him by surprise for a single moment. He carefully kept his eyes on the distant wall to avoid any unnecessary early communication.

“Thank you, Death,” he said. He stood out of respect as his son unclipped the velvet rope, letting the woman slide into the booth, then reattached it once both of them were seated. He waved the boy away to get drinks and finally took it upon himself to look directly into his guest’s gorgeous eyes. For a long moment, neither of them said a thing. He hoped nothing had changed between them, but it had been so long that he couldn’t be sure. He simply stared at her curiously and wondered whether she would be the first to break the silence.

“Five thousand years already?” she asked, smiling. The Devil felt himself recoiling from her powerful gaze. It was strange, being in her presence again. Sometimes he forgot just how unnaturally beautiful she was; he did spend all of his time around humans, after all, and she looked far more striking than any human. Before he got to stare at her for another second, however, she leaned forward and latched her arms tightly around him. He quickly closed his eyes and breathed in the scent of her hair as much as he could.

“Lyn…”

It was the first word he had spoken to her since her arrival, and he immediately reproached himself for not thinking of some better way to greet her. She buried her face into the space between his shoulder and neck, and she laughed, sending waves of nervousness fluttering across his ribs.

“I would have been here sooner if I could,” she continued with her airy voice as she trailed a hand up the side of his neck and let her fingers trace labyrinthine paths through his short, white hair. “But…well, you know how things are.”

“I know,” he repeated in a comparatively darker tone. “I wish you could stay here all the time.” It seemed a pathetically lame thing to say to such a being, but it was the only thing his brain could put together.

“Oh, I do, too,” Lyn said in agreement. “If Heaven ever decides it doesn’t need me anymore, I’ll be here in a heartbeat.”

“If Heaven ever decides that,” he countered, “Heaven and Hell will have to trade roles.”

God laughed at the Devil again.

“You’re too kind.”

He was glad to see that nothing had changed from their previous encounter. Ever since that disastrous day when he had been forced to leave Heaven – unexpectedly, since he had not been confronted with such an evil before – they could only see each other once a year, and only for a day. He had visited her in Heaven the previous year, and though it contradicted every aspect of his current nature, he longed to stay there with her. But the forces of good and evil demanded that they be kept apart, and so he was forced to return to Hell.

Pulling back from her embrace, he took another look at her. Though he adored every aspect of her face, he found his eyes unfailingly drawn to her bright red lips. Without glancing at anything else around him, he knew the shade exactly matched the one surrounding them, and he instantaneously brought her close and kissed her. He inhaled sharply as the biting chill of her lips met the blaze of his own, allowing the frigid air to fill his chest and surround his heart. It sent a flurry of sensations through his mind at once. He could feel the searing heat plainly, but a shard of ice penetrated the feeling and almost left him shivering. The cold spread through his body faster than fire, and he froze. She finally pulled away from him with the sense that something was amiss. He exhaled a mix of ice and fire into the short gap of air between them, mildly stunned that the fervor of the moment had vanished so suddenly.

“I missed you more than I thought,” the Devil murmured. Lyn managed a wide smile with a touch of something darker. He felt his features mirroring it. “I have something for you.”

Her smile turned into a pout. “I thought we agreed-”

“I couldn’t help myself,” he said, cutting her off with a wave of his hand. A crystalline rose appeared in his fingers, glowing that perfect red and gleaming with gold edging on the petals. He had shaped it himself, using the same hands he was now forced to hide in thick gloves just to keep from hurting her. He ran a few degrees hotter than he used to, and there had been several instances where he had set something on fire simply by touching it. He refused to take that chance around her.

Her eyes glowed as they darted back and forth between his face and the rose. “It’s perfect…” She glanced down and took both of his hands in her own, fingering the soft, black leather. “What’s this all about?”

“I don’t want to hurt you,” he said quietly. His son had returned with a dark, shining tray balanced on one hand. He placed a fluted glass in front of each of his parents, then swiftly uncorked the bottle of alcohol his father had chosen for the evening. A ghostly trail of steam floated up from the opening as the dark liquid was poured into each glass, releasing its faint aroma into the air. Tucking the tray under one arm, the boy placed the bottle on the table and left without a single word.

“You’re not going to hurt me,” Lyn responded. She sounded hurt. He wanted to listen to her, but he simply couldn’t risk burning her. He opened his mouth to explain, but she raised a finger to his lips and silenced him. “Please?”

The Devil sighed heavily as he pulled the gloves away from his fingers. “You do realize what could happen,” he stated plainly as he placed them on the table. She said nothing. Hesitating, he finally brought one hand up to the side of her face and barely brushed it against her cool skin. She uncurled his limp fingers and pressed them to her cheek, closing her eyes. He was warmer than she remembered.

“I missed you, Gerard,” she muttered just above a whisper. The sound of his own name sent a shiver through the fiery mass that was once his heart. She rested her head on his shoulder, placing both hands on his neck, and he raised his arms and gently ran his hands through her dark waves of hair. Though he had been in control of everything just seconds before, he now felt it all slipping through his fingers as fast as the silky black strands with a texture somewhere between smoke and water. They were soft and unbelievably smooth, but so light and immaterial that he was afraid to let them go.

“This isn’t helping anything, you know.” Remorse flared up within as he spoke the words, but he wouldn’t deny their truth. Lyn pulled away from him with a look of light shock.

“What do you mean?” she asked. Her eyes looked so intensely pained that he was forced to look away before he could answer.

“It means everything to me just to see you again, Lyn. It really does. But when you leave…” He stopped speaking. His mind began to feel cloudy. Repressed memories filled his head and sent it reeling. Wandering Heaven’s lustrous glass halls with Lyn, stealing kisses at every opportunity. Holding his newborn son in his arms for the first time and still trying to think of an appropriate name. Screaming at her to leave as the cloud of black demons burst into the room and surrounded him. Fighting them off until his strength dwindled enough for them to overtake him. Then, suddenly, he was falling, falling away from God and the great city of light and into a pit of dark fire that terrified him to the furthest corner of his soul. Everything burned, and he was screaming, screaming in pain, in fear, screaming for everything to stop-

“Gee?”

He snapped back to reality. Lyn’s eyes were mere inches from his own, with tears glittering at their edges. He caught one on his finger before it fell down her cheek. It bubbled and sizzled for a few seconds before disappearing entirely. He truly wanted to cry, he realized. He wanted to cry with her, just to know what it was like. But his heart had been lost to the darkness long ago, and not for the first time that night, he wondered if anything he felt was real anymore.

“I’m sorry. It’s still painful.”

“I never wanted you to leave,” she said with quiet, increasingly recurring gasps of air. He took her in his arms and he let her cry, all the while hating himself as thoroughly as possible. They had become completely different since that day. He relished seeing her again, but once she left, he knew he would feel inconsolably miserable for every second until he could see her again. Sometimes, the pain almost seemed worth it.

“This is exactly what I mean,” he continued, voice trembling with effort. His arms tensed around her, as if she would simply float away if he let go. “How long can we keep doing this, Lyn? It hurts when I can’t see you every day.” He laughed bitterly. “If I could kill myself, I would’ve done it a thousand times by now.”

“Please don’t say that,” she whispered in icy tones. Her voice chimed in his ears, glassy and musical and beautiful, and everything else that he couldn’t have. He wanted to scream that it wasn’t fair. Nothing had ever been fair to him. He wanted to sit there, with Lyn embracing him, for the rest of time. It was such a simple request, really. It only seemed natural that he should have it.

“Stay here.”

She looked confused. “What?”

“Stay here. With me.” He closed his eyes. “Don’t leave this time.”

“Gerard, you know I can’t-”

“Please?”

She knew the look on his face without glancing at it. It was one of piteous sorrow, one perfected after long centuries of trickery and deceit, a look so desperate and despondent that no one would be able to say no to him. No one but her.

“It’s not my decision.”

“But it isn’t fair!”

He realized he had raised his voice and instantly went silent. The fire inside his chest burned with anger and hatred so strong that he actually gripped at the vacant area with one hand. It couldn’t simply be his imagination anymore. There was something there, fighting for control of him. He could feel his surroundings slipping away into the darkness, and he was reliving the fall, letting the fire scorch every side of him, completely helpless to stop it. The fire had become his life. It used the remnants of his shattered heart for fuel and now wished to consume him altogether. Everything else was dangerously out of balance when he was with Lyn, but he did not care. She was the only one who could keep him in balance.

Gerard regained his composure with a deep, burning breath. “I think we should save this until after dinner.”

Lyn nodded in agreement. He snapped his fingers to summon a waiter and ordered their food. He said nothing, but the finely attired demon knew exactly what he wanted and left to take care of it. Gerard expected nothing less from them, and at a time when he could barely concentrate enough to form a simple sentence, it certainly proved useful. An awkward silence came between them, and though he couldn’t bring himself to meet her eyes, he knew she was staring at him, waiting for him to say something.

He wished he could have more time to think things through. He had to have missed something. There had to be a way. He would figure it out, and he wouldn’t have to be alone forever. For several quiet moments, he tried to think of what it was like in Heaven, with light and clouds and cool breezes and everything else that could never be found in Hell. The few faint images he could recollect quickly faded from his memory. He was only left with darkness, a full, pure expanse of black, and a clear picture of Lyn. Lyn without the sadness in her eyes. Lyn the way she used to be. He almost smiled.

Not a single word passed between them until they were finished eating. More and more, Gerard regretted bringing up the subject of her imminent departure. The sick feeling settled into the bottom of his heart and only grew as time passed. He made up his mind to not let her go, no matter what the cost would be. She caught his eye and stared intently at him, and he wondered if she could see his very thoughts. He felt a familiar gleam of darkness as the idea formulated more clearly in his mind. His decision was made, and he didn’t want to be sorry.

“Gerard-”

“Shh.” He put one finger to his lips and pulled her into an embrace, closing his eyes to savor every moment. “Please, Lyn. At least let me have this.”

She sighed, collapsing inward as if under the weight of his arms. A defeated sigh, perhaps? No, he realized, she was simply letting him think he had won for the time being. The flicker of darkness began to grow. That was unnaturally cruel of her. It wouldn’t be fair for her to leave without him, let alone to think that she was planning to stay. He would make sure this unspoken promise did not go unfulfilled.

Gerard shook his head, opening his eyes. He had no idea where such thoughts came from, but he hated them entirely. He wouldn’t dream of hurting Lyn. He exhaled quietly, watching as a few strands of her hair fluttered in the short-lived breeze, and simply willed the time to stop passing by.

“I should go.”

He tensed up when the words slithered into his ears. “You can’t.”

“Don’t make this difficult, Gerard,” Lyn said softly, pulling away from him. He felt the relaxing chill of her presence begin to leave his body, replaced with the ever-present heat he wished to escape. It gripped his thoughts and spread throughout him like the fire it was, and he wrapped his arms around her again.

“You’re not leaving.” The fire threaded itself through his voice and lit up his eyes. Heat rose to his fingertips and met with her otherwise cold skin. She stared directly at him with a look of intense confusion that quickly gave way to fear that only fueled the anger quickly building inside him. A sense of foreboding pervaded his mind for a moment, but it was not powerful enough to stop the rage building within.

“Let me go.”

Her words were quietly spoken, simple, but with such a pleading, helpless tone that Gerard felt he had to oblige her. He began to release her when an inferno surged through his body, a feeling so powerful that he refused to give her up. His answer smoldered in his mind, and he knew exactly what would happen.

“No.”

The world exploded around him. The mirrors lining the wall shattered. Chandeliers crashed into tables. Lyn tried to break away from him in a desperate attempt to stop the oncoming destruction, but he clung to her with renewed energy. He was holding her against her will, and the consequences had already been set in motion. Shards of glass shredded through tablecloths and leather seats. Fire sprang up against the edges of his vision, drowning out the terrified screams of Hell’s inhabitants. Had he been looking anywhere but into Lyn’s frozen eyes, Gerard would have seen his son wait patiently nearby with the same look of calm indifference he had learned from his father.

Normally a biting hazel, Lyn’s eyes had become a translucent ice blue that glowed and sparked more brilliantly than the flames swallowing them on all sides. Gerard realized at once that she was trying to save herself, using whatever remnants of power she hadn’t left behind in Heaven to escape being destroyed by his unrelenting fury. This only served to anger him further.

“Trying to leave me again, Lyn?” he asked, the words bubbling out of his mouth like lava. He brushed a charcoal-black lock of hair out of her face, smiling maniacally as his fingers freely scorched her skin to ashes. Thin trails of black smoke climbed skyward from his fingertips. She shivered at his touch, wanting desperately to scream but having no will to do it. He shook his head, still grinning softly.

“That’s not very fair at all.”

He reached behind her and picked up a jagged knife of silvered glass from the nearest mirror. The metal began to melt in his hand, turning into liquid that flowed hotly over his palms and between his fingers. He jammed it between her shoulder blades, grinning enough to show pointed teeth when she jolted and cried out in agony. Lyn shuddered for a moment, coughed up a few drops of blood, and collapsed forward into Gerard’s waiting arms. The ceiling fractured with a spiderweb of cracks and exploded from the sheer force of his unrestricted emotion, raining bits of fire down around them. He heard the once-familiar screeches of Heaven’s falling angels as they met with the darkness of Hell for the first time and allowed himself a faint sizzle of a laugh. There would be so many more souls to torture now, with countless innocents among them. Heaven was gone, and the earth had gone with it. There was only Hell. He wondered why he had waited so long for something so wonderful.

“We’re together forever now, Lyn,” he hissed into her ear, lifting her just enough to savagely kiss her bloodstained lips. The warm liquid filled him with a stab of hunger, and he greedily drank what he could as she continued to weakly choke.

The Devil pulled away only after he was fully satisfied and licked his lips, smearing his favorite red across the corners of his mouth. Human blood would never match it, certainly. But God was no human.

“You needed me for something,” stated a quiet, reserved voice from nearby. He glanced toward it and saw his son standing there, arms folded, patiently awaiting his next orders with a blank look. He smiled, cleaning off his teeth with his tongue before speaking.

“This is the last soul you will ever handle, Death,” he said with a gurgling, raspy note to his voice. “I expect you will do so with the requisite amount of respect.”

The boy nodded and stepped forward. For one moment, he looked into his mother’s eyes. They had become a pale, opaque blue-white that he had never seen before. He was accustomed to the dead. Souls made his acquaintance in generally the same manner: fear, occasionally anger, but mostly acceptance. He could see everything that had happened to them simply by looking in their eyes. But now, staring directly into the eyes of an inhuman soul, he realized he could only see the color. It sparked a faint memory within him; towering walls, sparkling floors, angels fluttering about…

It was Heaven. The palest blue imaginable, the blue that tinted the towers and kissed the clouds. He had been young at the time of the fall, and so he could not remember much of it, but this single glance made him pause just a moment longer than he ever had before.

“Death.”

He blinked, and the color vanished, to be replaced with dark, dead brown. He raised both hands and let them hover over his mother’s body, carefully drawing out the soul, and watched as its faint, silvery mist was swallowed into the Void. He exhaled just slightly, almost a sigh. He wondered if he should be upset.

Gerard cradled Lyn’s body in his arms, ruffling her hair. He had her forever now. He kissed her again, and when the perfect red rose dropped from her lifeless fingers and splintered to pieces on the ground, he laughed ruthlessly.

“I love you too.”