I called the devil, but he asked me to leave a message. I hung up, and decided to summon him instead. He thinks it’s rude of me, but I didn’t care much. I needed him then more than ever.
I brought my red paint, three quarts of cheap liquor, and twelve tablets of LSD. Had it not been an emergency, I would’ve settled for a three day meditative journey. I painted him on the wall. His ego doesn’t allow him to be summoned unless I paint him with a twelve inch cock, and a tight pussy.
Satan is a hermaphrodite. Or so he likes to say. From the times I’ve seen him, when the fur wasn’t covering up his pubic area, I saw nothing. It was a flat red surface of burning hot skin.
My masterpiece was done, and Satan was erect and wet. I sat on the floor, and stared at the painting, and started chanting my prayers. For fourty-five minutes, I prayed. Satan takes longer to prepare than most of my exes.
The paint dried, and the LSD started kicking in. The room’s size started glowing. The painting on the wall sprouted eyes that moved. He was staring in, seeing who was there. I knew he saw me, but he acted coy about it.
“Quit ignoring me!” I yelled.
His eyes turned towards me, and his ears popped out, and followed by his goat head.
“I asked you not to summon me.” he roared at me.
“You weren’t answering your phone.”
“Could it have been because I was busy?” He quipped. “I wonder if Satan EVER has anything to do in his free time. Although, I have to say. I quite like the genitals you’ve given me.”
“Look. I’m not here for your nonsense. I don’t have long. I had to take the short route here.”
His hands and claws left the wall, and fastened themselves to the sides, and like a child being birthed, he plopped into a ground, and quickly got on his feet, and dusted himself off.
“Your spell didn’t work.”
“You dare insult my magic?” he roared at me.
He always acts tough, but truly, Satan’s a God damned sweet heart.
“I insult nothing. I want what I paid for.”
“Did you try turning it on and off again?”
“Of course I tried turning it on and off again, what do you think I am, an amateur?”
He let out a gust of air from his nostrils.
“Fine. Show it to me.”
I took out a little piece of paper from my pocket. On it was a sigil that was supposed to turn anyone exposed to it into my eternal slave.
“I don’t see what’s wrong with it.” he said, and then it struck him.
“You son of a bitch.” he roared, and yelled. He tried to strike me with a ball of fire, but he defended me quickly after.
“Now first things first.” I said, standing up, and took my piece of paper back. “I want my soul back.”
“You know I can’t do that.” he fell down to the ground, and sat.
“I know you can. And you will. Now do as I command, slave.”
He extended his hands, and his razor sharp nails to my face. At that moment, there was no shred of fear in me. There was nothing he could do to hurt me without stopping himself. In a gust of fire, a large piece of paper I had once signed my soul away with appeared, hovering over his palm.
“You will pay for this.” he roared at me. “I promise you, you will pay for this.”
“No, I won’t. I’m here for a refund.”
He yelled. The sound of a million souls came out of the depths of his bowels. Mine was in between them. My voice became more and more distinct. The room started sweating, and dripping blood. A green essence glowed out of his mouth, and I could see my head rear out of it. And in seconds, my soul left his mouth, and attacked me, right back into my heart.
I came to, and Satan was still on my living room floor, patiently sitting.
“You must be pretty proud of yourself.” he said.
“I’d be a liar if I said I wasn’t.”
“Now that you’ve enslaved the master of darkness, what is it that you intend to do with him?”
“I hadn’t thought that far, would you believe it?”
He let out a little sigh.
“It’s always the fools that stumble on greatness.”
“Spare me the bullshit.” I replied. “If I let you go, would we be cool?”
“I’m the fucking Devil. There’s nothing cool about me.”
“You’re not making the best argument for yourself here, Belzy.”
“Don’t call me that. You know I hate it.”
“Look, dude. We’ve been through a lot together. This isn’t personal or anything, but I’d just rather not live out eternity in your servitude.”
“No shit. Who would?”
“I’m pretty sure there’s a whole cult in Hollywood dedicated to serving you.”
“Those useless pricks.”
I could hear disappointment in his tone.
“To be enslaved by a human. One that didn’t have the manners to do me the common courtesy of starving himself for a few hours. The gaul!”
“You know what? Fuck it. Belzy, you’re free. Go back home. I got what I wanted.”
“That’s it? No death, no destruction, no mayhem?” he quickly replied “I was actually starting to have fun. I haven’t been through anything this suspenseful since… Constantine.”
“Yea, well. I’m a boring kind of guy, and the drugs are starting to wear off.”
“I’ll come back for you. You know that, don’t you?” he said, walking back towards the paint on the wall.
“I’d be surprised if you didn’t.”
He walked through the painting, and my world started returning to what it once was. The blood, the sweat and the demonic presence all returned back into the painting, which itself, started retracting, and becoming smaller, and smaller, until one eye remained.