[ WP ] You made a deal with the Devil , and now he 's come to collect .

Jim Watson was eating an apple when the Devil appeared before him, but he did n't stop. It was juicy with just the right balance of sweet and tangy, a honeycrisp he'd picked up from the Farmer's Market just that morning. The acrid smell marking the presence of the Dark One threatened to sour Jim's enjoyment of his succulent treat, so he put a dishtowel to his face and walked into the dining room. 
 
 
 “ Please, just stay in there. I can hear you just fine, ” he said, talking around chewed up apple. 
 
 
 A deep purple light beamed from underneath the door, and tendrils of smoke crept out, but the door itself did n't move. The sharp sound of clacking could be heard from the kitchen. Claws. When the Devil spoke, the sound of it should have made Jim's skin crawl; it sounded like the voice of an average, congenial man, the sort of man who would shake your hand with a smile, imitated poorly. 
 
 
 “ Jim, buddy. It's done. She's not gon na bother you no more. ” 
 
 
 “ Now that do n't sound like Sheila, Mr. Satan, ” Jim said. “ You sure we're talking about the same woman? She's got a tendency to just turn up on you. That's the whole reason I had to come to you in the first place. ” 
 
 
 “ Oh, do n't you worry now, Jim, ” said the Devil. “ You wo n't be seeing your wife no more. ” 
 
 
 “ And you ca n't bring her back? She's gone? ” 
 
 
 “ I said you wo n't be seeing her again, Jim, and you won't. ” The voice was stern now. 
 
 
 Jim gaped his jaw like a snake to gob an extra big bite of apple. He chewed loud and long, sucking out the juice from the tender pulp as he gnashed it between his molars. He nibbled errant bits of peel as it all went down his throat, and then he went for another bite. Jim smacked his lips and dashed to lick the dripping juice from his fingers before it fell to the carpet. He made a scene of eating a damn apple, and the Prince of Lies waited patiently for his reply. Not a claw clacked on the tile as Jim ate; the only sound was the man's gluttonous glee. 
 
 
 Jim set the half-eaten apple on the table, and wiped his hands with a napkin. “ Mr. Satan? ” he said. 
 
 
 “ Yes, Jim. ” 
 
 
 “ How'd you do it? ” 
 
 
 “ Oh, Jim. Now, I would n't want to tell you that. ” 
 
 
 “ And why not? ” 
 
 
 “ Well, there are a lot of reasons, really, but think about it. When the police come knocking, and you realize they will, right? ” 
 
 
 “ I guess I had n't thought about it. ” 
 
 
 “ You should think about it. Tell me, Jim, when they tell you what they found, do want to fake surprise, or do you want to really be surprised? ” 
 
 
 “ That's a good point, Mr. Satan. ” 
 
 
 “ Well I'd hate to see someone get what they want and then not be able to enjoy it. ” 
 
 
 Jim fingered the apple, rotating it slowly on the surface of the table. “ Mr Satan, I thank you for what you've done, sir, but I think it's time we parted ways. I've got a dinner to cook, and I'm sure, well, I'm sure you're pretty busy yourself. ” 
 
 
 “ You could say that. ” 
 
 
 “ Well, then. ” 
 
 
 “ Jim, ” said the Devil. His voice was a poorer imitation than before. “ Are n't you forgetting something? 
 
 
 Jim grinned. “ I do n't think so. ” 
 
 
 “ Jim, ” said the Devil. The purple light began to pulsate slowly, swirling with midnight blues and bloody reds. “ Your soul belongs to me. ” 
 
 
 Jim picked up the apple and took another bite. His mouth full, he shook a finger at the door slowly, saying, “ Now that's where you're wrong, Mr. Satan. Now now, I know I promised you my soul in exchange for your little favor. That's true. But I did n't tell you that I'd already traded my soul away before I ever called you up. ” 
 
 
 “ You gave it away, ” said the Devil. 
 
 
 Jim hacked off another chunk of apple with his incisors, smacking as loudly as before. “ That's right. My friend Sam and I traded each others' souls about a week ago. I've got his, and he's got mine. I signed that weird paper you showed me, and I know I said I'd give you my soul, but I do n't have it. It ai n't mine to give any more. But hey, make me an offer and I might be willing to part with Sam's soul. I doubt he'd even miss it. ” 
 
 
 “ No thank you. I do n't really want it. ” 
 
 
 “ Well good bye, Mr. Satan. You're not getting mine. ” 
 
 
 “ I'm not? Then what's this? ” 
 
 
 There was a crinkle of paper, and then a single sheet slid out from under the kitchen door. It was a note, rumpled slightly, a yellow page from a legal pad handwritten in pen. Jim's heart fell into his stomach. 
 
 
 “ That's my– ” 
 
 
 “ Contract. ” 
 
 
 “ My contract. ” 
 
 
 “ Amended. Slightly. ” 
 
 
 Jim lost his grip on the apple, and it fell to the floor. “ Sam sold it to you, ” he whispered. “ What did he want? ” 
 
 
 “ Your wife. ” 
 
 
 “ But you said, you said she was... ” 
 
 
 “ I said you wo n't be seeing her again, Jim, and you won't. ” 
 
 
 The purple light went out. The kitchen door swung open.
