There are many rumours about this story, but the real story is only known to me and the devil. I was young, reckless and, although I didn't think it at the time, I was naïve. The devil soon proved that to me, though. I felt like a fool, I'd been played. In fact, now that I look back on it, the devil reminded me of me. Except of course, he was older, wiser and more experienced.

It all started when I was 18: my final year at the mission, which I had been looking forward to immensely. I'd spent the last two years waiting to get out of this place. Suze was obsessed with Jesse, who in turn, was obsessed with her. And who was obsessed with me? Kelly Prescott. I still couldn't shake off that shallow bitch. She gripped onto me like a leech and prevented any other girls from going near me. I was, as always, getting high marks in school and managing to act normal, even after the event happened that changed my entire life. I'd never admit that to Suze though, especially as she was still avoiding me like I was the plague. I had been avoiding any ghostly activity since then. Even going as far as ignoring ghosts – making them believe I couldn't see them just like everyone else.

To sum up, my life was getting incredibly boring. I'd lost my ignorance, my arrogance and I'd gained a conscience. The things we do for 'love'.

It was a warm sunny afternoon when He approached me, well it's always sunny in Carmel, but this day was particularly bright. Believe it or not, he wasn't all 'red, horns, pitchfork, tail'. When he appeared to me, he looked about 21. He was attractive, with an attitude to match and no matter how hot it was, he always wore a darkly coloured suit. The only thing that made him look out of the ordinary was the way his eyes turned red whenever he was angry. And also, though I'm not sure on this one, his teeth changed into sharp fangs. All of them. He looked as though he'd practiced hiding them in the mirror for centuries because I could never quite tell.

"Hello, Paul," he said to me, "Why don't we go for a walk?"

Now, if a 21 year old guy came up to you and said that while you were walking back alone from the corner shop, you'd react the way I did too.

"Fuck off."

Okay. So I wasn't in the mood to humour the guy. If he'd been cooler about it, maybe, but 'why don't we go for a walk?'! That's weird.

"We'll go for a drive, then," he replied. That's when I noticed his red irises. The devil has a short temper. I wanted to say no, for obvious reasons. Not because his eyes were red, anyone could have done that with contacts – but because I didn't like the idea of having this creep in my car. For some reason, I couldn't refuse. I could think all I like. My body wouldn't obey and my mouth wouldn't open. This was when I noticed that something was wrong – that the guy was no ordinary guy. The car was back at my place, so we had to walk there first and then take the car. He drove and I sat in the passenger seat.

"I want to talk to you, Paul." I still didn't know who he was, so this was still strange.

"Who are you?"

"Sometimes I forget how dim-witted you are. I've gone by many names in the past. Hades, Pluto, Lucifer, but I go by Luke now. People get overly-suspicious of those names now."

"You mean Lucifer as in… The d-" I started, but He interrupted me.

"Yes, but you can't just go throwing that word around, you know."

"No. Why not?" He sighed, exasperated.

"Did you know that it's a derogatory term for me? I don't like it and when people use it, it makes me mad. Speaking of which, you don't want to disobey me again."

"Okay…Luke…. So what can I do for you?"

"I know about you. I've seen what you can do. I know your potential and I know the plan for you..."

"The plan?"

"Don't interrupt!" His eyes flashed red.

"Sorry." You know, don't anger the Devil and all that.

"I have a test for you. An ability test. I need you to do something for me."

"What will that be?"

"I need you to bring someone back from the dead."

"What will I get in return?"

"You know how this works, then?"

"I've seen the movies."

"What movies?"

"Nevermind. Who do you want brought back?"

"My wife. Persephone."

"Couldn't you remarry?"

"Don't question me!" His eyes stayed red for more than a flash and the temperature rose by about five degrees for a prolonged moment.

"You are Lucifer. Can't you do it? Hades and Pluto controlled the dead."

"I rule the dead, I can't control it. I can kill things, but I can't bring them back to life. I can't control whether they end up in hell, heaven, purgatory, Elysium, the fields of asphodel, Tartarus or whatever else there is you mortals made up."

"Do you have a body and a ghost?"

"Nothing. You just have to go back and stop her from leaving me for Adonis."

"I could bring her body here instead."

"No! You could do as I ask, the way that I ask!" He had to stop the car. The ice-cream in my shopping bag melted into liquid and I had to throw it out the window. His eyes red again, but this time, it didn't fade and for I split second, I thought I saw his face flash into something more monstrous, but I couldn't be sure.

"Paul, I have to go. I can't stay up here like this for long. You're too infuriating. You'll make me reveal my true form, which bursts into flames in real sunlight. Here's my business card. You have a week to decide. Call me when you have decided."

"What happens at the end of the week?"

"I wipe your memory."

I looked at the metal, black card. I reminded me of my dad's black amex. It had two different numbers written on it: 666 and 616.

"These numbers are a little cliché," I said, but He had already gone.

Going back and saving Persephone –or whatever- seemed like an easy task, but after a couple of hours doing my research, I thought otherwise. Everything about the gods of Ancient Greece is always called myth. I didn't even know if Persephone existed. People also say that you can't trust the devil, so the thought had crossed my mind that he might be tricking me, or leading me into a trap. The thought was soon over ruled by logic: if Hades existed, then so must Persephone and Adonis.

Then I remembered. To paraphrase Boromir from the Lord of the Rings, "one cannot simply walk into the Ancient Greek underworld". Never tell anyone I can quote the Lord of the Rings. It's too nerdy for words. If I learned anything in that Ancient history class I took, it's that the Greeks love a good fight and, from my online research, that you have to be a demigod to get into the underworld. Or at least magically endowed in some way. Or dead. None of those were true.

Besides, from what I could see from my experience up in the Shadowland, there is no underworld. Those doors just scream reincarnation to me. I had so many questions to ask Luke, but it had only been a few hours and he might get angry. I didn't want to seem as though I hadn't thought it through properly, because if there's anything I hate, it's being patronised.

I felt like the girl that can't call the guy for fear of looking too desperate. I turned the cold, black business card over in my hands. On the other side, it said:

To call Luke directly, use 616.

To call his assistant, use 666.

To call, wait until dark, and then just use your mobile phone.

Beware, standard network rates apply.

If you have this number, use it wisely.

A pretty scary prospect if you ask me. I can't call the devil over trivial matters and if I need to talk to Luke, I shouldn't call his assistant. It was a no win situation. Either way could make Him angry. I went for calling his assistant, so that I could ask questions. Luke wouldn't have the patience. This was a little creepy- calling The Devil in the dead of the night, in a house all alone. If this was a horror movie, you'd be screaming: 'no! Don't do it!'. I dialled the number. It rang out and then a woman in a smart deep red suit appeared to me. She didn't look older than 25 and, unlike Luke; her facial expressions never seemed to show any 'wisdom from experience'.

"What can I do for you?" She asked me, checking her deep red nails for chips. I put my phone down; it seemed silly to keep holding it.

"I need to ask some questions about Luke's request."

"I'll answer what I can. Mr. Nyx prefers to keep his business private, so even I don't know what he wants with you." She looked me up and down. I knew how good-looking I was, but somehow, it made me feel insecure. Her eyes seemed to say: I've seen better.

"Do you think he's trying to trick me?"

"Have you done no research at all? Mr. Nyx is bound to his word and if not, to an oath he makes to you when he shakes your hand. I've never seen him break an oath, so either he physically can't, or the consequences are too bad to think about."

"Right."

"You are bound to him the moment you agree. Be careful. Just make sure he specifically 'gives you his word' or shakes your hand, otherwise, he can break the agreement."

"Got it. Word or hand. How do I get into His realm?"

"He will always know you. You can automatically find Gates of Hades or Entrances of Pluto or Doors of The D. Just open it. He will probably be in his throne room, moping about something." Her voice sounded a little bitter towards the end.

"Who are you?"

"Me? I'm his assistant."

"Are you an immortal or from mythology or one of his children…?"

"Oh, no. I'm an atheist. There's no afterlife for us. We see the Midworld for what it really is."

"The Midworld?"

"I really shouldn't tell you about this because you're not dead. It could encourage your religious decisions or whatever."

"But-" Then she vanished in a burst of ashes.

It was 2am, but I couldn't sleep. My mind was buzzing from all the information I'd received. Atheists live in Midworld. I didn't know what that was, but looking at the assistant, it must be another dimension or something. Here, but for dead atheists. What happens if you were religious? I really wanted to call Luke, because I believed that accepting the challenge would answer at least some of my questions, but I didn't want to do it now. I needed more time to think. I'd received too much information already in one night. It's as if all the stories are true. Anything that anyone has ever thought of has manifested itself into this. Him. It. Me. If all the stories are true, then what am I? Where did I come from? I know nobody believed in shifters that much.

Despite everything, I found myself wanting to call Suze. This was bigger than me and I needed to share it with someone. My better judgement decided not to. 1, because she probably wouldn't believe me and, 2, what would she think of me? I kind of made a deal with the Devil himself. It's considered that only really shady characters do that.

They do it out of greed because there is something they desire, and with the devil, it's most likely power. But, me? I didn't know what I wanted. I'm rich, I thought I was pretty powerful and I could 'charm my way out of a hostage situation', let alone into the pants of some girl. I didn't need the devil, but the devil needed me. I was stupid enough to think this gave me some sort of edge. It hadn't quite hit me in that moment, that I was just a cocky amateur and he was The Big Man Himself: The Devil.

A/N: Not complete. Obviously. I promise I wioll write more as soon as possible. If you like it at all. There are still improvements to be made on this too.

I couldn't quite start the conception sequel everyone's been asking for, or confess which man is which in Jesse or Paul?. So, this was my compromise. A one shot about Paul.

Yay!

Love ya,

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