[WP] A man is about to propose to the devil for the first time in a thousand years. 

Jason groaned.

“Where the hell am I, fuck it’s hot.”

He lifts his face from the stone surface; his skin sticks momentarily before slapping back to his face. A small pool of sweat ripples as a droplet leaves his chin and splashes on the stone bench.

“Well, you’re correct on two thing darling.”

Jason squints through his lashes, the brightness overwhelming his senses; his head felt like a carnival was parading through his skull, and his eyes felt like they had been removed.

A dark figure in sparkling white legging slowly came into focus. Jason rubs his eyes and winces. His face was tender to touch. The pain from his head felt like it was somewhat attached to the pain in his eyes, although pretty much all his face hurt. Groaning he sat up and tried his best to take in his surrounding.

He sat on a stone bench, that much he knew, the landscape looked vaguely familiar. The more he looked at it, the more it slowly dawned on him that this was actually his village.

It’s wasn’t the lush green pastures that he had spent his childhood running through, and it wasn’t the peaceful setting he was used to either. Upon the hillside, he could see the rolling fields had been turned into a barren wasteland, from here; his local village had stood peacefully against the mountain backdrop, only now the barns, farms, houses, and shops were ablaze.

The figure stood before him.

“Let me guess; you don’t remember last night do you babe?”

Jason looked up through his lashes at the speaker. The sparkly white trousers blended to a stark white T-shirt, and further to a short greying beard. The guy – he looked like a guy – had a smooth complexion, although he had some sparkle in his eyes.

Is that eyeshadow? He wondered.

Jason closed his eyes and forced himself to remember the events of last night.

He remembered walking into the bar, remembered finding his friends and sitting with them for a while.

Ah, yes, there had been a guy, pretty face, strong chin, good figure, hairy in all the right places. He had spoken to him; they had got on like a house on fire. Their left the bar together and had gone to a nightclub. One with big illuminated letters at the entrance.

The club must have been new; he had never seen it before. He remembered walking in, remembered the loud music, but after that, it all seemed a bit vague.

“So, darling, how to do like your new home?” The figure was leaning against the trunk of a flaming tree but pushed off at the expression on Jason’s face.

“Oh no! You don’t remember, do you? Jesus Christ this always happens. Oh, come on! You must remember me, oh God; you don’t do you? You fucking bitch.”

The devil looked Jason up and down. He clicked his fingers through the air and muttered.

“Oh no, you didn’t.”

“What don’t I remember?”

Jason stood up on wobbly legs. The heat almost took his breath away.

Lucifer stood before him, both hands on his hips and a scrawl on his face. His red eyes boring into him.

Jason looked into those eyes and slowly the night before started to seep back. The dancing to the heavy beat. Their bodies grinding and pulsing together, the heat and passion of their first kiss.

That great drunken idea of marriage, that you inevitably regret in the morning.

“Um-hm. Oh, so you do remember now?”

“Did we…”

“What? Get hitched? No, call me an old fashion kinda girl, but I expect a bit of romance first.”

Jason wiped the literal sweat from his brow. A small smile tweaked at the corner of his mouth.

The devil smiled back.

“So, um, now that I’m sober.”

Jason took off a ring from his finger and knelt in the dirt.

The devil’s pale cheeks turned red as he extended a hand toward Jason.

“Lucifer, will you marry me?”

The ring slipped easily on to his manicured finger. The remaining two digits held softly in Jason’s hand.

If you enjoyed this, why not read:

[IP] Every warrior starts somewhere, even those bent on revenge.


The Evil Within

2 thoughts on “[WP] A man is about to propose to the devil for the first time in a thousand years. 

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