The Talk

"Here, use this."

Samantha startled, roused from her quiet contemplation in the passenger seat. They’d been driving for twenty minutes now, but they’d spoken little. The snow was coming down harder outside, making it difficult to see past the window. The speed at which the flakes whipped by them concerned her, but Salesh seemed to know what she was doing. Her roommate held a tube of wet wipes in her hand, offering it to her. She shook it gently.

“You need to clean that blood off your face. It’s probably starting to sting, and it’ll only get worse. Take them.”

Samantha had completely forgotten about the blood, but now she could definitely feel a subtle tingling sensation on her skin. She didn’t know why blood of any kind would act like that, but she knew better than to assume she would understand. She did as asked, taking the tube and cleaning off her face. Salesh looked her over after she was done.

“You missed a spot, right there.”

Sam tried again, all the while staring at her roommate. What happened to her? Who was this person? In the years that they’d known each other, Salesh had been nothing more than an easy going girl that liked to hang out and be lazy. A great roommate and a wonderful friend, but not a doting mother, and especially not a killer. Now she was all of those things. Sam saw the way her eyes kept glancing in her direction, as if she expected her to just disappear. What did she know? Why was she doing this?

She wanted answers so bad it was driving her crazy.

“Salesh,” she said. “Talk.”

Her roommate looked at her, then away, staring out the window at what little road they could see. She said nothing at first, but Samantha waited. She looked like she was considering what to say. The AC kept funneling warm air into the cabin, giving them an island to last out the cold. They had time.

“Your father’s dead.”

Unlike most people, Samantha was unaffected by this news. It made no sense. She was adopted by a young woman as a child and raised by a single mother who never married. She never knew her biological parents, but who else could Salesh be referring to? What did he have to do with anything?

“You knew my father?”

“You kinda did, too. Sort of,” she said, scratching her head. “He was a pretty important guy. His name was Lucifer. Like, Lucifer, the actual Devil.”

Samantha said nothing for a long time.

“The Devil…”

“Yeah.”

“My father was… the Devil?”

“Mhmm.”

Samantha wanted to laugh because the idea was so stupidly unbelievable that it was ridiculous, but she had just seen a man turn to dust and watched a tattoo burn into her skin. Was that really any more preposterous? Besides, something far more important occurred to her, something way more pressing than her late father, Satan. Who was in charge now?

“If he’s dead, that isn’t good. Right?”

“No, no it is not,” said Salesh, looking genuinely concerned. “There was a coup. And there are always coups, I mean it’s Hell, but this one… this one worked. And they found out about you.”

“Me?” said Sam, shrinking away from her friend’s intense stare. “What do they want with me?”

“Who do you think takes the throne when the old man bites the dust?” she said.

“His heir.”

Sam felt the world drop out from beneath her feet. The implication of those two words was beyond terrifying. It was insane. She could feel herself starting to hyperventilate again.

“No. No. I will not be the new devil, or whatever the fuck that would make me. That’s insane! There’s no way that’s happening. Can you even imagine it? Never. No. No way.”

Salesh set a hand on her shoulder, but didn’t agree. “Sam, you may not have a choice. They won’t stop hunting you until you’re dead. They sent that thing after you. Something needs to be done.”

“Then we’ll deal with it in a way that won’t make me… whatever my father was,” she said with finality, trying to desperately convince herself that this would all just go away. She knew it wouldn’t, though. Something told her this was it, and she’d better strap in and grow up because this was her life.

She didn’t want to listen.

Salesh stared at her for a moment. “Alright.”

And that was it. They were both silent as Sam absorbed this revelation. Her father’s didn’t bother her, at least, she didn’t think it did, but she was too wrapped up in the fact that he was the Devil to really give it due consideration. Her father was a monster, the king of monsters. Presider over the worst of the sinners, torturer of damned souls. Biblically, he was the first angel to betray God, and tempted man to do wrong. There was nothing good about him. To be related to that. What could she do? A cloying need to know that he wasn’t all that he appeared to be formed in her chest, hot and anxious. She deserved more than him, didn’t she? Could she ask for that?

“What…” Sam started, faltering. Salesh looked over at her. “If you knew him. What was he like?”

Salesh smiled, and it was probably the first real smile Sam had seen all night. There was sadness in it though, too. “He wasn’t a great man, Sam, but he wasn’t all bad either. He was fair, and he respected you. It’s hard to be more than that in Hell, but, he managed to be when he could.” She hesitated, chewing on her lip. “Those books you read, none of them really know what it’s like, none of them have been there, but they’re not all wrong either. Are you sure you really want to know?”

Sam did, and so she told her.

It was as bad as she thought, but also better.

Was that enough?