#05
It”s another restlessnight as thoughts of the Devil have me tossing and turning for ages, and having my years-old electric fan suddenly die on me only makes things worse. I”m hot and bothered in a non-sexual way, and frustration eventually gets me out of bed.
I might be too cheap to splurge on a dorm room with A/C, but one amenity that”s been absolutely non-negotiable for me is having an en-suite with its own tub.
There”s just nothing like a nice, cool, lavender-scented bath on a hot, humid night, and I set the timer as my eyes droop close.
My trusty analog clock goes off thirty minutes later, and it”s when I”m back in my room and feeling light and fresh in my underwear (black and pink because I”m a huge fan of Jenny) that I remember to check my phone.
1 missed call.
That”s when my whole world crashes on me as I click on my call log, and an unregistered number stares back at me from the very top of the list.
I”m dead.
I try calling the number even though a part of me already knows this won”t do me any good, and all I get is an automated message that”s easily summed up with just two words: you”re dead.
I pace back and forth as I try calling the Devil”s number again and again, but it”s just no use, and I end up falling asleep on my desk.
My alarm goes off at 7:05 like it always does, but the thought of going to school doesn”t even cross my mind. I try calling the Devil one more time—-
”The person you are calling is currently unavailable.”
Well, that does it then.
I grab one of my notebooks and flip to a blank page.
Here begins the story of the idiot who lost her life because she fell asleep in the bath.
I feel like laughing and crying again. Should I at least be proud that I”ve managed to keep my sense of humor even though I know I could die at any moment? I wish I was exaggerating things really, but I”ve done my research on the Devil, and every single story about him says the same thing.
When the Devil grants you a favor, the Devil will ask one in return, and you are free to say no at the cost of your life.
There are no ifs or buts about this, and there absolutely isn”t any exception—-
Riiiiiiing.
Oh God, it”s the Devil calling.
I wish I could convince myself the Devil can”t possibly be shallow enough to take my life for missing his call, but who says motives for killing sprees have to be valid?
Paola once told me about this girl who started shooting people simply because she hated Mondays, and considering how Lady Luck and I aren”t exactly the best of friends...
Riiiiiiing.
My entire body feels like it”s turned to ice again, and my fingers are shaking so badly I end up asking Siri to answer the call for me.
Hello Sheena.
”Hello, sir.”
You”ve been writing for quite some time.
I should have expected this, shouldn”t I?
But I didn”t, and so the realization that he”s been watching me for ”quite some time” has my heart dropping to my stomach.
What exactly are you writing?
”Um...”
Now would be the worst time for you to lie.
Even though the Devil still sounds like a male-voiced robot, the warning still sends shivers down my spine, and the whole truth comes tumbling out.
”I”m writing goodbye letters to my parents and friends.”
I see.
”But I didn”t mention you in any of them, I swear.”
I didn”t think you would.
This feels like my only chance to make a last-ditch effort to save my neck, and the words just come rushing out.
”I”m so sorry I missed your call, sir.” I still remember how I initially struggled calling him that, but now all I”m thinking is how I”d be happy to call the Devil ”sir” for the rest of my life.
That did come as a surprise to me.
”I”m so sorry again, sir. I know it”s no excuse, but I fell asleep in the bath—-”
That doesn”t sound safe.
I suppose he”s right, but...it”s not like I”m a stranger to danger at this point, being indebted to the Devil and all.
”I”m so sorry again,” is all I can think of saying in the end. ”I”m really, really sorry, sir—-”
You do sound sincere.
”I am!”
But...
Oh dear God, why is there always a ”but” when you least want it?
I can”t let you off simply because you apologized.
My rules are not only there for people to trust me.
They”re also there for people to fear me.
You understand, don”t you?
My eyes squeeze shut. If he”s really intent on killing me, then the most I can hope for is a quick, painless death, and since I won”t get that by lying—-
”I...do.”
Ah, Sheena.
I remember too late that I should”ve just said ”yes” the moment I hear the Devil say ”ah” in that strange monstrously alien voice of his.
You do love to say those two words, don”t you?
My cheeks darken as I remember what the Devil”s been inclined to think when hearing said two words. ”I”m not doing it deliberately—-”
I know.
But as much as I find those words charming when you say them...
His voice trails off gradually, but its effect is instantaneous. I”m having a hard time breathing again, and my heart is also racing triple time because I know.
Of course I know what he”s thinking—-
”Please, sir.”
And I”m not opposed to begging.
”I”m sorry.”
He doesn”t say anything, and my stomach starts to cramp as the silence between us gnaws louder. Rays of sunlight have lazily streaked into my room through the windows, but fear has made me blind to its bright, golden rays. Hopelessness has blanketed my world with darkness, and when the silence becomes too much to bear, I hear myself blurting out my worst fear.
”Are you going to kill me?”
Do you think I”m capable of doing that?
”Yes.” There”s no point denying the obvious, and just hearing my own voice crack makes me feel all the more terrified.
Smart girl.
And let”s not forget intriguing as well.
I”m already praying even before he”s done speaking.
Dear God, if you heard me wish to ”un-intrigue” myself in the Devil”s eyes...could You maybe just ”un-hear” that instead?
Which is why, instead of killing you—-
Oh, thank You, God, thank You.
Anything”s better than getting killed.
I”ll need you to do something for me instead.
Oh, crap.