The Devil's Book

Some things have a way of sticking with you. Like a soldier never forgets their time at war, there are things that I'll never forget either. Allow me to tell you of one such thing, if you care to hear my tale.

It was late in the evening when I pulled up to my favorite diner. Just a bit after 10 PM, if I remember right. Normally the place is dead quiet by now, and that suits me fine. The hustle and bustle of the morning crowd never sit well with me. I stepped out of my car and made my way inside, sitting beside an older gentleman at the counter. He wasn't familiar to me, which came as a surprise. Most of the people who come in at this time are regulars, but this man seemed far from regular. He sat quietly, dressed in a fine black suit. The kind of clothing that was far too fine for an establishment like this. His skin was cracked and weathered, his eyes glossed over. He was leaned forward, elbows on the counter, and a cup of straight black coffee between his hands. Though his hair was graying, it had a look as if it was smooth as silk. After a time, he had noticed me looking him over. "A man can't drink in peace son?" he scoffed. His voice seemed to shake me to the core. It was rough, raspy, but somehow unlike anything I'd heard. "My apology sir", I quipped, "I've just never seen someone such as yourself here". He gently set his cup down and folded his hands in front of him, staring almost blankly ahead. He seemed to be pondering something, as if his words had escaped him. After a moment, however, he spoke once more. "When you have everything, it's easy to forget what the simple things in life feel like". He reached into his jacket, pulling out a small black book and turning towards me. "You see this son?". I nodded, although it seemed like little more than a simple book. "This is what you get when you trade away something priceless". "Priceless?" I say almost mockingly, "Everything has a price". He closed his eyes and shook his head, then let out a small huff. "Then what would yours be?" I'm taken aback for a moment. "What would mine be?" I ask. "Yes." he replies, slowly setting the book down and sliding it towards me. "This book contains all the money in the world. If you truly believe that everything has a price, remove a check and write what you're worth." I sit silently for a moment before reaching out for the book. Somehow, it felt heavy. As though the binding was made of lead rather than what I could only assume was leather. I had thought the old man crazy, and perhaps he was, but what was inside the book seemed quite real. Rows and rows of blank checks, all signed with a beautifully intricate "L". "Say I believe you," I look at him, locking eyes as chills run through my body. "you can't own a person. You can't just buy me and call it a day". His blank expression becomes a grin as he leans towards me, pressing a boney finger to my chest. "I don't want you, per say. I want your soul. Something that is truly priceless". "My soul," I scoff, "well if you really think it's priceless, you should just let me take this whole book". His grin persists as he reaches into his jacket once more. "I suppose I can allow that. It won't be away from me for all too long, after all." I brush off his comment, watching him pull what seemed like an old parchment and quill from his coat pocket. "Your hand." He demands. I give him a smirk and hold out my hand, not realizing his intent. Before I can react, he jabs the end of the quill into my palm. I pull back as a searing, burning pain runs up my arm. For a moment, my vision blurs. "Now sign." he demands once more. Without much thought, I listen, though I don't quite feel in control of myself. He laughs a wicked laugh and shakes my punctured hand. "It's been a pleasure doing business with you!" I keep quiet, still feeling off. I lay my head down on the counter for a moment, trying to regain my senses. I had hardly noticed him leave his chair. "Oh, and son" he called out, one foot out the diner door, "I'll be seeing you. Very soon". As he walked away, I began to feel my senses come back to me. I get up form the counter and walk back out to my car. "See you soon?" I say quietly to myself. What could possibly go wrong? I have all the money in the world. I close my car door, and turn the key. The ignition turns, an intense flash happens before my eyes … and like that, the richest man alive became little more than smoke and ash.