Speak of the Devil’s Daughter

‘Get out of my house!’ I screamed at the girl in my kitchen.

She looked at me with a sort of bemusement. ‘No.’

Girls can be maddening. No offence to all the girls in my life-they’re all cool. But really, a girl teleporting into my house and stealing ice cream? Not very cool.

‘Who are you, anyway?’ I asked.

She took a big bite of the chocolate ice cream my mother had made (well, it tasted more like chocolate-flavoured ice) and said casually, ‘Satan’s daughter.’ like she was saying, ‘The mall.’

I raised an eyebrow. ‘The dude with the horns and pitchfork? That one?’

She nodded.

‘Prove it.’ I turned the statement into an order.

She took it as a challenge and held up her palm. A tiny fire danced across it. Seeing that I was sufficiently impressed, she stoppped and continued to diminish the ice cream poplation in my fridge.

‘How did you get here?’ I was still a little suspicious.

‘Accident. But Dad doesn’t like it when I make accidents. The last time that happened, he caused the Great Fire of London.’

A bead of sweat ran down the side of my face. ‘Well, get going! I don’t need another Great Fire in my house!’

She rolled her eyes. ‘After I finish this tub of ice cream.’

‘Take it with you and get out.’ I was beginning to get a little nervous.

‘Yeah, whatever. Bye!’

She blinked out of existence like Thanos had just snapped his fingers.

I was about to dismss it as a stress-induced hallucination when the devil himself appeared behind me.

‘Ahh!’ If deities were going to continue to sneak up on me, I would have to get a new set of bottoms.

‘Chill, bro. You seen my little girl?’ he spoke with no trace of an accent, and didn’t have horns or a pitchfork. Just looking very human.

‘Yes. She just disappeared.’ I tried not to sound like a hamster.

‘That girl. Always running off. You see her again, you call this number, alright?’

A business card appeared in my hand. It was embossed with a pitchfork and wrote, ‘Satan and Co.’ On the flipside was a number about as long as pi.

‘You- you won’t kill me?’ I did my best to not sound hopeful.

He shook his head. ‘Nah. I’ve got not much energy. Been tracking her for weeks already. I can’t even make fire at this point. Well, I’ve got to go. See ya!’

With that, he disappeared.

I totally forgot about this until a few weeks later, when I heard the sound of an ice cream tub being opened, though I was home alone.

Pulling out the business card, I took five minutes to type in the number.

'Hello? I've spotted Mr. Satan's daughter...'