The Deal With The Devil

He held her limp, lifeless body in his arms, shaking her in vain, screaming in anguish, sobbing his heart out, calling her name over and over again. “Ava! Ava! Ava!”

In the wild frenzy of his intense, soul-rending pain, he was dimly aware of a white figure walking towards him. A soft, melodic voice reached his ears, somehow louder than his sobs even though it was quiet. “She is gone.”

“No! She’s not gone! She’s somewhere in there! I know it!” he roared through his tears.

The figure fell silent and came closer. “But there is a way to bring her back.”

He looked up but only saw a blurred outline. “What way?” he asked desperately. “If it can bring her back, I’ll do it!”

A pause. “A deal with the Devil.”

A ringing silence.

“I’ll do it!” he said determinedly, one hand curled into a fist.

“Good.” By this time his vision had cleared somewhat and he could see that the woman before him had silky, raven-black hair that covered one of her eyes. Her head was bowed and her expression was inscrutable. Her dress billowed slightly in the light breeze. Other than that, she was a picture of stillness.

“So where do I find the Devil?” he pursued.

She slowly raised her head and looked straight into his eyes, her uncovered eye gleaming a bloody red. “I am the Devil.”