[ WP ] You live alone on a small island off the coast of Scotland . During a stormy evening , you hear a knock on the door .

`` Rainy evening... one of many.'' I muttered to myself, looking out the window while I sat in front of the fireplace with a blanket over my lap. It's not like the house was particularly cold that evening, there's just something about sitting in front of the crackling fireplace with a glass of whiskey while the rain batters on the windows without a worry in the world that's just... a certain level of perfection, y'know? 
 
 Nah, on second thought, you probably do n't. And it's not like there's anybody else on this island I could share that with anyway. 
 
 I'd amassed a bit of a fortune through various means, and figured to myself'Y'know what could be fun? Having my own island, away from the busy streets of Glasgow, away from the farmers in the Highlands, hell, away from the UK as a whole. Can you blame me, with how much of a shitshow it's turned out to be? 
 
 But that's besides the point. 
 
 It's about bordering into Winter, so the rainy nights are becoming more and more frequent, the sky outside becoming cloudy and dark faster than it otherwise would. Tonight was a bit different though, and I was hit with that extremely loud realisation as lightning struck somewhere outside my house, causing me to nearly fall out of my chair. See, in Scotland rain is more common than sunshine, not to say that sunshine's particularly rare, but what's definitely a rarity is lightning. I decided to wait for a while to see if any more lightning strikes would happen on the island, but when all I could hear was distant thunder I finally relaxed and took another drink of my whiskey. 
 
 And that's when the oddest thing happened. 
 
 There was... a knocking at my door. It was urgent, like someone desperate to get in. And if you do n't understand the oddity of that, let me reiterate: This is *my* Island, and I have shared it with nobody since I acquired it. So what else could I do, aside from go over and check to see who it was? The answer was to go over and check to see who it was with a knife at the ready. Through the peephole was this poor sod, a cough wracking his body. He was soaked from head to toe in his suit and he was retching water from his throat. The poor bastard must've washed up on the shore. 
 
 With a sigh, I opened up the door and let the guy in. `` You alright there, mate?'' I asked him, while he stumbled in. I grabbed a towel from nearby the door and tried to hand it to him, though he was still too busy getting the water out of his lungs to notice. `` Here, lem me dry you up a bit...'' I said, patting his back while I used the towel to dry his medium length hair, taking him over next to the fire. 
 
 It took a few minutes, but eventually he'd managed to get all the water out of his lungs and he looked up at me with these grateful eyes. These grateful... red eyes. And I do n't mean they were bloodshot, I mean the irides were a very vivid red. `` Thank you so much, man. I really did n't want to be stranded out here and have what seems to be the only person on the island turn me away...'' He said, tears forming in his eyes. `` Uh... I'm really sorry to bother you, but can I get a cuppa' hot milk if you'd be so kind?'' 
 
 `` Sure, sure. I'll be back in a tick. D'you want a biscuit or something with it?'' I asked him, putting the blanket I had on the chair over him. 
 
 He nodded vigorously in response. `` Aye, if you have any cookies I'd love a few.'' He smiled, rubbing the tears from his eyes. I gave him a little nod and left to get him what he'd asked. Upon returning, he'd undressed and wrapped himself in the blanket tightly, his suit in front of the fireplace. `` I really hope you're okay with me taking my clothes off, I uh, kinda did n't like the thought of catching a cold out here...'' The man said to me a bit sheepishly. 
 
 `` It's fine, I should've thought of that myself. Been a long time since I've helped someone out like this, I forgot the best thing to do is get your clothes off and get fresh ones on.'' I said back to him, waving it off and getting him some clothes. Oddly enough, despite the shirt and trousers fitting him, the socks apparently did n't. `` So what's your name? D'you remember?'' I asked him. 
 
 `` Uh... I guess just call me Donald. It's what everyone calls me.'' He smiled, shrugging. `` What about you?'' 
 
 `` Call me Ian.'' I told him. `` So, whereabouts in Scotland d'you come from, Donald? It might help me to get you back there.'' 
 
 Donald seemed a bit perturbed when I offered to help him get back to where he came from, shuffling about anxiously, causing something to peek out from under the blanket. Now, you're probably thinking I'm insane, but I swear to God it's a cloven hoof. And it seemed like he noticed me looking. ``... guess the cat's out of the bag, eh?'' He sighed, taking the blanket off, and... sure enough, in place of feet Donald had cloven hooves. Needless to say I was the one that was unsettled now. `` L-Look, uh, I can... well, I can explain. But it's an explanation that might make you want to kick me out on the str-... oh right, no streets here. I guess back in the water then?'' Donald spoke quickly, and anxiously, pleading. 
 
 I decided to give him benefit of the doubt. `` Alright, Donald... explain. I'll try and keep an open mind.'' I told him, standing up to prepare for anything that could happen. 
 
 He took in a deep breath, let it out, then looked to the fireplace. It seems like he did n't want to look me in the eyes. ``... my name is n't just'Donald'. It's...'Black Donald'. That's what everyone knows me as.'' He explained, glancing over at me. `` And if you've brushed up on your folklore... yeah, I'm the one and only.'' 
 
 Being a mythology lover myself, there's no way I *couldn't* recognise that name. 
 
 Black Donald. His cloven hooves give him away, no matter the disguise. 
 
 Out of my pity for him, I've let the Devil himself into my home.
