The Devil And His Rose

Chapter 5: Chapter 5: The Devil’s Bargain



James froze, his heart hammering in his chest as his eyes flicked between the book in his hands and the figure before him.

The words from the spell echoed in his mind, but they made no sense now.

He took a quick glance back at the page—it was the right spell. But the man standing before him, wings unfurled, was no ordinary demon.

A fallen angel. Panic rose in his throat, sharp and suffocating.

The words from the spell were a cruel reminder of his mistake. What the hell had he just done?

In a world filled with all types of creatures, you can find almost anything, but never an immortal. So why the hell is one standing right in front of him?

James was about recheck the spell book, ready to take back the spell, but Lucifer's voice stopped him from doing that.

"Don't tell me you are about to change your mind?" There was a hint of mockery in Lucifer's voice, as he leaned on a nearby wall, like it was casual day for him.

"Change my mind!?" James had to say it out loud, because why would this creature even think he had gathered the courage to summon a demon, let alone an immortal, and dare to change his mind?

"T-this must be some kind of misunderstanding." Starting off nervously, James' eyes returned to the spellbook, unsure.

As if confirming one last time would change the situation he was in.

"But I had no intention in summoning a..." He wasn't sure how to address Lucifer, and he was most definitely not planning on angering this foreign creature with his words.

No one knew how strong they could be. But one thing was for sure, the man standing in front of him was definitely stronger.

"A fallen angel?" Lucifer completed James' sentence for him, making James' eyes widen.

That better be what they call them, and these creations better not be able to read minds.

"Yes, I can read minds." Lucifer could not hold it in anymore as he let out a small chuckle. To him, it was amusing, but to James, it was terrifying.

And James immediately got on his knees and bowed his head—not from respect but from fear.

Lucifer's smirk immediately vanished. Of course, it did not matter which type of creature he met, whether they were from heaven or hell.

They all had one thing in common whenever they came in contact with him, and that was fear. Nothing annoyed Lucifer more than that reaction towards him.

"Rise, human," he commanded, his voice sharp, trying to push his irritation aside. But James' mind was already clouded by fear.

James trembled on the floor, his body refusing to obey. His hands clutched at the salt circle as if it were his lifeline.

Ever since this figure appeared, an overwhelming sense of dread had consumed him.

It was like an invisible force pressed against his soul, suffocating him, making him question his will to live.

Lucifer's jaw tightened as he watched the pitiful display. If it wasn't because today happened to be a good day, he would've smashed James' head into the ground for disobedience.

"What is your request?" he demanded, pushing himself upright.

He began circling James slowly, his boots clicking softly against the floor, each step deliberate.

James flinched with every sound, his shoulders trembling as Lucifer studied him like prey.

Lucifer's gaze flicked to the salt surrounding James. A smirk tugged at the corner of his lips, though he suppressed it. Did this fool really think salt could protect him?

"I—I might not be able to pay the price you might request of me," James stammered, his voice strained and cracking under the pressure.

Lucifer stopped mid-step, tilting his head slightly. "And what makes you think I'll ask for something you wouldn't be able to handle?" His tone was steady, yet it carried a chilling weight.

He leaned closer, his dark red eyes locked on James. "What makes you think I'll even ask for anything at all?"

James flinched, his breathing uneven. "Please, I beg of you," he whispered, wiping at his sweat-soaked face with trembling hands.

The sweat stung his eyes, but he barely noticed, too consumed by the crushing presence before him. "I really have nothing to give a creature of high standing such as yourself."

Lucifer's gaze hardened. The pathetic sight before him was almost entertaining if it wasn't so offensive.

He crouched down, his movements unnervingly fluid, until he was face-to-face with James.

"Look at me," Lucifer ordered, his voice cold and commanding.

James hesitated, his chest heaving. But as if compelled by some unseen force, he raised his eyes to meet Lucifer's.

The moment their gazes locked, James' pupils dilated, and his irises turned an unnatural, glowing red.

"You want to save your daughter and wife no matter what," Lucifer said, his voice low but resonant.

"I want to save my daughter and wife no matter what," James repeated, his voice hollow, robotic.

"Your child shall belong to me" Lucifer continued, his lips curling into a faint smile, "after her eighteenth birthday"

"My child shall belong to you after her eighteenth birthday" James' robotic voice echoed again, void of emotion, as if the words weren't his own.

Without another word, Lucifer extended his hand. A small glass bottle, filled with a deep crimson liquid, materialized in his palm.

He knelt slightly and placed it gently on the floor beside James.

Satisfied, Lucifer turned and strode away, his figure fading into the dim shadows of the room until he disappeared entirely.

James remained frozen in place, his blank expression unchanging, still caught in the trance.

Moments passed, and slowly the haze began to lift. His vision blurred momentarily, and a wave of dizziness swept over him.

He swayed slightly, feeling unlike himself, as if something deep within had shifted.

He pressed a hand to his forehead, trying to steady himself.

He didn't recall Lucifer enchanting him—there had been no grand gestures, no obvious spells—but somehow, he remembered agreeing to the terms. Without question, without hesitation.

His breath caught in his throat. What had he done?

His eyes flicked to his side, landing on the bottle of blood resting on the floor.

He reached out with trembling hands and picked it up, holding it close to his face. The blood inside swirled slightly, almost as if alive, its dark hue reflecting the dim light in the room.

James felt his chest tighten. He knew what it was—Lucifer's blood. A part of him felt an unbearable weight of guilt, shame clawing at his insides.

But another part, buried beneath the regret, felt a faint flicker of satisfaction. He hated himself for that.

His grip on the bottle tightened. His jaw clenched as conflicting emotions raged within him.

But there was no going back now. The deal was done. And so was he.


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