We Will Remember

The Devil

He hadn't seen it coming. He was about to fire his AK-47 rifle into his first kill when he felt something light land on his shoulder. And hot. He turned around to sweep it off his shoulder when he saw what it was. His little devil.

It was red, with a squat body and rounded face, squinty eyes and a pointed goatee. And smoking hot. He looked down onto his shoulder and saw a little burn mark where the Devil had scorched his clothes, marking his soul.

The Devil blew on his hands and reached back onto the man's shoulder.  Then he grasped onto the man's ear lobe and began to pull himself up. The man refused let the Devil burn him this time. He looked through the cross hairs and aimed for his target. But then his brain piped up, "You shouldn't kill someone!" And time stood still.

Thanks to his Angel, the man wanted to move back from the front line and say that he'd had enough. But he couldn't move his body so there was no chance of that. He tried to move his head from side to side but something had held his head in place. He glanced out of the corner of his eye. It was the Devil. The Devil had come.

The Devil pulled himself into the man's ear canal and perched inside it. Then the whispering began. What would happen if he started to kill someone? Wealth, obviously. He'd get a family, of course. A wife, a baby. And if that didn't happen? Girls. Lotsa girls. But he'd get a career. Victory. Fame. Glamour. Glitz. Fame.

Those words meant a lot to him. He'd be famous. They'd love him. He'd be asked for autographs, even pictures and portraits if he was lucky! This was his opportunity. He would give anything to do well. He'd need to be a great shot, a fantastic leader, someone with courage and intelligence.

And the Devil whispered into his ear. He knew what this man wanted. He was like every other man in the world. Well almost. But most could be influenced by the same thing. Money. And everything that came with it.

So the Devil whispered in to his ear, "i can give all that." His seductive voice purred through the man's brain, bringing any other counter-activity to a stop.

Glitz. Glamour. Fame.

The man would do anything for glitz, glamour, fame. The Devil just asked for one thing.

The man's soul.

The man freely gave it. Devil had burned this man's soul to eternity. He got all he wanted, but he wouldn't remember it. His soul had gone.

But don't say his angel didn't warn him.

He started to fire. But before he could get a shot off, he fell down. Dead.