Obey Me! Lord of Flies

Call Me Insincere

Emily stared upwards, her eyes were focused on her ceiling. What had he meant by he was sorry? After her reveal, Emily, unsure what Beelzebub had meant, only excused herself and headed for her room. Perhaps he was sorry because he could not be friends with her any longer? Or was it because he wouldn't make a pact with her?

Emily found herself hoping that she could still be with Beelzebub, even if it was just for three more days. She received a notification on her D.D.D. and briefly looked at the screen.

Satan: Meet me in my room.

Emily did not respond. She still felt a bit... heartbroken, over Beel. Would he ignore her now? Perhaps avoid her even? Her mind went off on a deadly tangent. Another notification abruptly ended these visions.

Satan: Don't ignore me.

Emily didn't feel like moving. Nor did she feel like doing anything at all actually. She, however, sat up and moved to leave her room. She made her way to Satan's room, her eyes glued to the floor. She kept silent, her entire being a moving totem of melancholy. When she finally reached Satan's door, she knocked.

Satan answered and invited her in. It was quite tidy. Many books were placed around the room and it would seem his computer had been left on. This revealed that he'd been watching cat videos online. She walked in and Satan's eyes followed her as she walked to the center of the room. She turned.

"So? What do you want?" She asked.

"I want you to make a pact with me," he stated, repeating his wish once again.

"And why should I do it with you?" She asked.

"You understand Wrath, and know how to control it. Who else but you could be the perfect person to make a pact with?" Satan spoke.

"Okay? Do you have any better reasons?" She asked.

"How about this; You keep your soul, live out your happy little love story with my brother, and all you have to do is make a pact with me," he stated.

"And what in it for you?" She spoke, her eyes staring into his own. He nearly took a step back.

"The weight of all this rage," he spoke softer this time, "You've only felt less than a percentage of what I must bear the burden of concealing. With you... I feel like the fire in the pit of my stomach may just die down a bit."

"So you want me to take care of the world's Wrath with you?" She asked.

"More like... be my therapist," he noted.

"Well Why didn't you just say that in the firs place you damn idiot?" She crossed her arms over her chest and gave him one of her lip bitten smiles.

"I took a few courses in psychology and sociology after getting my degree in engineering!" She said.

"Well then," Satan walked towards her, "Do we have a deal?" He held his hand out to her.

She took his hand in a firm grip, shaking it once before a slight shock shot through her am. Their grasp did not break and the feeling began to burn into the underside of her forearm's sensitive skin. She heard Satan release a small 'oof' signaling he also felt some pain. When their contact ended, Emily quickly looked at her arm.

Seared into the soft flesh on the underside of her right forearm was a forest green unicorn that took up the entire length. It started below her hand and ended at the place where ones elbow would be. It burned like a thousand bee stings that someone tried to heal with tobacco sauce, and then lit it on fire like Baked Alaska.

Satan revealed his left forearm to her. Upon it was a black silhouette. This silhouette, being her side profile. Who knew she looked so good from the side. The silhouett did not take up Satan's entire forearm, but was placed on the girthier portion of it. Surrounded by a thing circular frame, like a picture, the initials inside the top of the frame were E. S. R. O. '20. Emily Savannah Rose Osheán, year 2020. The pact had been made, and she'd live to see next week.