LUCIFERCO.

There was 20,000 dollars in the account.

His nose wrinkled in confusion at the sight of the tiny, life changing pixels on the screen, mouth dropping wide open as he counted the numbers again, two, three, four times.

$20,000. Loud and clear.

When he remembered to close his mouth again, he took a deep, shaken drag of the cigarette between his stained fingers, inhaling every possible ounce of nicotine in a bid for a clear mind.

It didn't make any sense. There'd never been that kind of money in there before, maybe a few hundred here and there from his own shallow pocket, but never over a grand.

Unless of course...

As reality dawned, the cigarette he’d been smoking found itself all too hastily stubbed out into the dirt of the overflowing ashtray. He pushed it all to one side along with the empty pizza box and other filthy fast-food wrappers, not satisfied until it fell off the desk altogether somewhere near the trash. Money of that calibre in the company account could mean only one thing.

He wasted little time and quickly rummaged through a day's worth of emails, cursing himself furiously as he opened both his junk mail and deleted mail in a desperate bid to find what he was looking for, an email confirmation he had haphazardly, mistakenly deleted earlier as a joke.

From: LUCIFERCO.

Subject: Regarding Techsoft

Message: Start-up fee deposited. Following contract sign, the rest to follow.



The little hairs on the back of his neck stood up.

This was no spam.

They had an investor. They'd done it.

No no...he had done it, single handedly as the CEO of his very own tech start-up. Sure, he hadn’t done it all alone, there were a few, little people who could lay claim to some of the credit but he had led the way. He was the CEO, Techsoft was his life’s work. These past five years he had sacrificed utterly and completely everything, surrendered every hour of every day, lost the respect of friends and family...all for this moment.

He felt almost giddy. A little gasp of air escaped his throat as a wave of newfound dizziness rushed over him.

Techsoft had an investor.

He leapt out of the creaking computer chair, so hard he flinched as it fell back against the wooden floor with an almighty crash. The neighbors would go crazy any second but to hell with them, he hadn't a care in the world. He laughed his way out of the room, skipping almost as he made his way down the corridor to the kitchen.

Tonight I can celebrate, he thought wildly, hands shaking as he reached for the 10 year old, dusty whiskey bottle on the drinks shelf. In the morning, I'm going to buy a new car.

He toyed with the idea of pouring out a small glass but of course, adrenaline got the better of him as he swigged from the bottle. Knocking back an enormous mouthful, he punched his fist into the air. Alcohol spilled down onto his shirt.

Curse words tumbled from his mouth with ease as they so often did, still smiling as he uselessly swiped at his shirt. It'll stain, the irritating voice of his ex-wife echoed sourly in the back of his mind. He mentally gave her the finger and brushed the whole thing off.

It was no matter really, that he knew. Tomorrow he could buy all the upmarket attire he wanted, now that he had a living, breathing investor. Everything was going to be ok.

Chuckling to himself he drank a few more gulps of the expensive alcohol, a little less clumsily this time as he looked out the kitchen window into the dark, miserable street outside. The same old graffiti marred the vandalized bus stop across the road. The sound of his neighbors screaming and shouting again reverberated through the thin walls of his home. He'd be glad to see the back of this dump, he thought smugly, all too glad to start a fresh with a fat wallet and a new life.

By the time he'd downed half a bottle the room had begun to spin, cravings for another cigarette all too quickly kicking in. He attempted the journey back to his home office, swaying as he did so and taking baby steps, one hand on the peeling wallpaper. It had been some time since he'd had a proper drink, even longer if you counted drinking alone. He'd not done that since the wife had walked out some years back.

Shivering slightly he wandered back down the corridor, frowning at the noticeable drop in temperature; no doubt the boiler was on the blink again. Yet another thing he wouldn't miss in the new, wonderful life he was already mentally planning for himself.

As he switched off the hallway lights he couldn't help but notice them flicker slightly, the sound of electricity hissing in his ears as they did so. A strange smell of burning followed, his nose wrinkling in offence to smell it. A fuse gone, nothing unusual in the damp-ridden dump he had until now called home. He shrugged with a newfound nonchalance and clambered drunkenly through the door to his office, the door slamming on the wall it was hinged to. Again, he half expected his rather unhinged neighbors to come banging on his front door, because hell it wouldn’t be the first time.

But miraculously this time, he would be wrong.

Nothing, not a single sound or whisper to be heard. Not even the shouts of their bickering at each other, nor the roar of the street outside or the whirring of knackered computer fans.

For once, it was perilously silent. As the only light in the small, dark room, he looked to the bright computer screen patiently waiting for him with the generous investor's email still open.

He sighed again with relief to see it, his breath however, caught short at the realization that he could see his own exhale in the air as condensation.

"Jeez...” He rubbed his bare forearms, eyes catching the email once more. “Why is it so damn cold?”

It was a little odd, even for his trash bag home and unreliable boiler but of course, it was difficult to think about the failing thermostat with the life-changing email before him and half a bottle of whiskey coursing through his veins. In fact, he had already begun to think about how he might spend the money, starting with an expensive new car.

With some moderately intoxicated struggle, he sat down again at the computer, somehow remembering to pick up the chair from where he had slung it earlier. He swiftly ignored the newly formed dent on the floorboards and immediately opened a few car auction websites.

It didn't take him long to find the one. Like an impulsive, spoiled brat in a candy shop, he quickly found a little red, sporty thing to his liking and booked to collect it first thing in the morning from town. He had the $20k deposit ready to go after all and happily clicked the button to confirm his purchase.

But as soon as he did, every power source in the house went out.

The screen went blank with a whoosh.

He was plunged into darkness.

"Oh for Christ's sake-" he scrambled blearily in the dark, nose wrinkling at the acrid smell of burning. "What the hell is that?"

The sound of the office door behind him slammed shut, trembling in it's frame with the almighty, almost inhuman strength with which it had been thrown.

It was enough to make him jolt out of his chair and onto the floor, back up against the wall, eyes wide with a strange, animalistic fear.

There was that smell again, sulfuric, rotting with decay, strong enough to make his eyes burn and water. His throat tightened as he struggled to breathe.

A stray tear fell down his face just as the power came back on.

The computer screen lit up again in brilliant white as it did before, casting unfamiliar shadows about the dark, cluttered room. His eyes struggled to adjust. Disorientation kicked in. He trembled as he sat there, the sound of his heart now racing in his ears with increasing panic.

A silhouette had come to find itself perched upon his seat.

A black, shadowed form, too dark to see any real details in the poor light of the tiny office room.

The smell of hell-fire burning clambered horribly up his nostrils as he stared, wide eyed up at the uninvited guest before him. He froze.

"Mr. CEO." Steam billowed about their mouth. "How good it is to finally meet you."

The light of the computer screen caught the glimmer of black, colorless eyes taking the mere mortal in as they cowered in the corner. They sat up in the chair to reveal their true height, tall and powerful with a horned head.

"I implore you to answer."

Still frozen to the spot, he rubbed his eyes furiously, blinking ten times a second at the dark form sat in his computer chair.

"Who the hell are you??" he screeched in a pitch much higher than he'd intended, spittle escaping his quivering mouth.

The dark form laughed wildly with sharp, concentric teeth for the world to see.

"What an improper way to speak to your investor." they grinned, leering down at the cowering man just feet away. "Or dare I say - master - now that you have enjoyed spending your investment."

"I-I don't..."

"Speak properly," they replied abruptly, a fork-like tongue swiping at their lips. "if you wish to keep your throat."

He frowned at the dark form's words, drunken brain wracking itself of any information to make sense of the situation that played before him until one, uncomfortable thought rose to the surface.

"My investor," he stammered, heart racing in his chest. "You're my..."

"Congratulations," the dark form leaned closer. "I look forward to a contractual collaboration of Techsoft and LUCIFERCO., until the termination of your mortal life."

Lucifer.

A demon.

"I was thoroughly impressed with your start-up proposal, more so than I have been with any mortal on this earth in over a century."

"What..."

They leaned ever closer with a threatening aura, the light of the computer revealing the grotesque structure of a scarred, unearthly face. "Your intelligent soul is well worth a lifetime of my funding and I'll do so gladly, until the very end."

“-I-I don’t understand...”

They revealed a small, black book in their possession, leather bound, overtly wrinkled and blemished from the passing of time. As it caught the light it glimmered strangely, an unnerving oiliness about it with some sort of creeping movement to it’s texture, familiar almost. Like human skin.

The demon smiled wryly.

“Your contract, Mr. CEO. Investment in exchange for your soul.” A long, twisted fingernail traced along the dotted line. “Sign here and the transaction is complete.”