Random shorts

Devil's Advocate

WRITING PROMPT #1: YOU SOLD YOUR SOUL TO THE DEVIL SOME YEARS AGO. TODAY HE GIVES IT BACK AND SAYS, "I NEED A FAVOR..."

It's been at least fifty odd years since that night. Noah had for all intents and purposes avoided the man like the plague and so far he's been perfectly content with his life, and in those fifty years, he's seen as little of the man as humanly possible. So he was appropriately surprised and pissed off when he showed up at his doorstep at three in the morning.

"What do you—" he yawned, "—want?" he asked glaring at the impeccably dressed man standing on his doorstep. How a man can look that good at three in the morning was beyond him.

"Do you have any idea what time it is?!"He demanded, scowling as the man walked into his flat without an invitation. Standing in the middle of his living room looking around with thinly veiled interest; Noah bit back a curse, remembering how obtuse the man tended to be, without another word he walked into the kitchen. After a while, the man walked in and sat at the counter to watch Noah prepare tea.

"Noah..."

Noah looked up and regarded the man, he was wearing a short-sleeved black button up shirt that left little to the imagination. Showing just how toned the man was, paired with a thin silver tie, black trousers, and black leather shoes. His haircut in the latest coiffed hairstyle prominent in most teenagers and 20-something-year-olds these days. Noah knew he was old, having never asked his age, but knew it spanned at least a few dozen millennia; if not more. But despite his age looked no older than 25, being almost anal about his appearance. Keeping himself physically fit and cleanly shaven. Noah met his eyes over his cup, he had piercing blue eyes, almost as if he had the sky trapped in his gaze. The man smirked raising an eyebrow, "See something you like?"

Noah growled in answer, "I don't have time for your games Lucius, what are you doing here?"

Lucius chuckled, "What? Not going to offer your guest some tea? Although personally, I'm more partial to a good cup of coffee."

Noah glared at the man, after everything he's done they were hardly acquaintances. He was tricked into giving the bastard his soul and the amount of hatred he had for the man was immeasurable. Although, he did get something out of giving up his soul. He's still a bit uncertain about the whole immortality gig, and at first, didn't even believe it, but after fifty or so years of looking like he did when he was twenty-three... And of course, the abilities that came with it—telekinesis, teleportation, and mind reading to name a few—were pleasant surprises. Shaking his head he placed his cup on the counter and turned to make the devil some coffee.

"Why do you insist on doing things the muggle way?" The devil asked.

Noah almost laughed at that. Almost. "Because I AM a muggle, perhaps?" Never mind the fact that he could have just waved his hand and made the coffee with his powers.

Lucius scoffed, "Don't try to hide your laugh, sweetheart. We both know that was funny!"

Imagine that. The devil himself is sitting at Noah's counter waiting to be served coffee, and making Harry Potter references; completely at ease. The pompous bastard. After serving Lucius' coffee he sat across from the man, "So, what is it you want?" The sooner he figured that out the sooner he can leave. And possibly never come back.

To Noah's surprise, he watched as the devil fidgeted with his cup, and looked as though he wasn't sure about where to start or how best to explain himself. He has never seen the man anything less than the fearsome imposing man he knew him to be. Now, to see him actually look nervous about something was a bit... Disconcerting.

Noah cleared his throat, raising an eyebrow at the man before he tried to hide his startled flinch. Lucius sighed into his coffee before he took a fortifying gulp. A black wooden box appeared on the counter between them. Wordlessly he placed his mug down before pushing the box toward Noah, who glanced at the box apprehensively. There was an odd aura about the box. It felt familiar, yet foreign at the same time. It was quite disconcerting. There wasn't anything particularly remarkable about the box. It was a simple black wooden box. No intricate designs, or special marks that would give him a clue as to what was in it.