[Alternative Start] Steve Meets the Devil

Steve had given up on smoking two years ago. Which was why he was surprised to find a cigarette between his fingers and a gentleman he had only just met giving him a light. He took the latter without hesitation, and soon, he was blowing blue smoke into the world.

Aside from the occasional car which passed them, Steve and his friend (when did he start calling him friend?) were alone, as if tucked away in a pocket of the world that received few visitors.

Steve took another pull at his cigarette. It tasted great. In fact, it was the best cigarette Steve had ever had. He wondered why he had ever given up smoking. Yes, there were some studies that suggested that cigarettes and lung cancer went hand-in-hand, but Steve didn't think that that mattered. If he could smoke a cigarette this good everyday, then he would welcome lung cancer into his loving embrace.

As if reading his mind, Steve's friend (yes, he was a friend, wasn't he? He had been the one to give Steve this cigarette), asked him how his first cigarette in two years tasted. "Just fine," Steve replied. "Shit. It's better than fine."

His friend chuckled. Steve noticed that his friend was not smoking at all, which seemed strange, but he decided to not comment on it.

They stood in comfortable silence before his friend spoke again. "Have you gotten over your worries?"

Steve frowned. "Why do you have to bring that up?" His shoulders slumped, but he sucked on his cigarette again, which improved his mood somewhat. "A little, I suppose. Still, I wish I could do something about it."

"Maybe you can."

Steve looked at his friend, as if for the first time. His friend was strange, Steve could see. For starters, he had horns growing just above his eyebrows. In any other situation, Steve would have thought this was a freakish appendage, but he only looked it as unfashionable. Equally unfashionable was his friend's skin, which was deep red. Would Steve call it _blood-red? _If he had a clearer head, then perhaps he would.

All Steve thought was that his friend was a bit off. Maybe even strange. Still, he liked the guy just fine. Just fine.

"Do you have any ideas?" Steve asked.

His friend withdrew something from his pocket. Through his daze, Steve noticed that it was a red, washable marker. Something you could find at any dollar store. Steve tried to hide his disappointment as he took it from the man. "Oh, thanks, pal." He said. "I'll treasure it."

Steve's new friend laughed. He had a great laugh. Steve thought he had heard it from somewhere. It seemed somehow recognizable, but he couldn't put a finger on it. "Believe me, you should treat it as treasure. It's more valuable than anything you own." His friend said when he stopped laughing. "You said that you wished that your roommates would treat you better, yes?"

Suddenly, Steve remembered why he was out here. He was a student at the local university and had been rooming with four girls since the semester began. They were walking cunts, in Steve's estimable opinion. They treated Steve like filth and then justified their personality by saying that Steve should have a lower-class status within the dorm because woman such as themselves had a lower-class status outside the dorm. Fucking bitches.

Tonight, one of the girls, a black cunt, threatened that if he didn't leave the dorm, then she would tell the university's principal that he had sexually harassed them. Steve left and had somehow found himself in an alleyway, with his new friend. Briefly, he wondered how he had gotten here, but that didn't seem to matter. Not now, at least.

Responding to his friend's question, Steve said, "Yes. I would like that very much."

"This marker is special. It belonged to a friend of mine but I'm giving it to you. My friend used it to make rules."

"Rules?" Steve repeated. He was also a bit jealous that his friend also had a friend. Why couldn't they be by themselves, together forever?

"Yes," his friend nodded. "If you write rules with this pen, and then display those rules somewhere where everyone can see, then whoever has seen those rules will be to obey them."

Steve was a logical guy. He never believed in anything that could not be measured. On any other day, he would have laughed at anyone who had told him this information. Oddly, he didn't even think of laughing at his friend. He didn't think that his friend would lie to him. They were BFFs.

BFFs didn't lie to each other.

His friend put a hand into his pocket again, this time withdrawing a white envelope. "Open this when you get home. It has all the restrictions on the pen. Study these restrictions carefully." Steve took the envelope and put it in his pocket, along with the pen. His friend seemed prepared to leave now, but Steve grabbed his hand.

Steve had not realized it earlier, but his friend had a tail. A long, red, and pointy tail. So unfashionable, Steve thought, but did not say. "When will I see you again?"

His friend smiled and hugged Steve. His body was _hot. _It was as if he had a very bad fever. "Soon," Steve's friend said. "I'll reach out to you." His friend untangled himself from Steve's embrace and began walking away.

Strangely, the further away his friend walked, the less Steve remembered of his appearance. When his friend disappeared from his sight, he couldn't remembered what he looked like at all, or why he had thought of him as a friend. Steve scratched his head, and then, to his amazement, realized that he had a cigarette between his fingers. He threw the cancer stick on the ground, horrified. He had given up smoking two years ago. Why would he start again?

Steve felt his heart pounding. He wondered if it should be beating so quickly. Probably not. He took deep breaths.

While Steve still remembered the conversation he had had with the mystery gentleman, he found the man's information less credible. A marker that could create rules which everyone had to follow? Impossible.

Nevertheless, Steve did not throw the marker on the ground. Nor did he toss away the envelope that had been given to him. He kept both items in his pocket as he returned to his dorm. He would go to sleep. When he woke up, he would think that everything had been a dream.

He arrived at his dorm, opened the door, and stepped inside.