text: The rain showered on the sidewalk ahead of Ethan. The streetlights were fizzling out and re-lighting every couple seconds or so. The sky had just started clearing up after almost two days of continuous storming. Ethan pulled up his hood and continued walking. “*What have I done*?” Ethan thought to himself. “*How could I be so stupid?*” A couple of days ago he was driving home, in his Toyota SUV after a late night party, across the bumpy Texas countryside. The night was young, and Ethan had never felt so relaxed when suddenly his car hit something. He reversed and in the fuzzy haze of his headlights, saw an elderly woman on the ground, with a much younger woman kneeling over her. “HELP!!!” she screamed loudly. Ethan knew her screaming would attract the attention of nearby townspeople. Without thinking further, he stepped out of the car and knocked the woman out with his bare fists. *“Problem one solved,”* he thought. He then grabbed the unconscious grandma by her armpits and dragged her over to the trunk of his SUV. Ethan picked her up and dumped her into the trunk. He then did the same to the younger woman. He had just killed an old woman. I would know, after all, I am the Devil’s Servant. The situation had turned dire. This was truly a calamity. The authorities would be after him soon. There was only one place he knew of that could possibly help. Ethan slammed the trunk and opened the passenger door. He then opened the glove compartment. It was empty except for an old ID, an old screwdriver that had started to rust, a large coin, and a heapload of crumpled up papers. Ethan took everything but the papers and shut the door. He then used the screwdriver to unscrew both the front and the back license plates. Ethan opened the hood of the car and placed the license plates face down against the engine. He pulled out a cigarette and lit it. He then opened the fuel tank cover. Ethan sighed. He took one puff of the cigarette, reluctantly tossed it into the fuel tank and ran. BOOM! There was a huge explosion and fire leaped into the sky. It had most certainly caught the attention of the townsfolk. I was impressed. Even I had not committed such iniquity in my time of life. Ethan realized he had to get to Dallas County and fast. Thunder clapped and Ethan was pulled out of his memories. It had been three days since the catastrophic events. He was almost where he needed to be. He took the coin out of his pocket and inspected it. It was definitely larger than an ordinary coin. Ethan guessed that it was about two inches wide and two inches long. It was quite light and was made of what looked like solid gold. It had a leviathan cross on one side, and in an arc surrounding the cross was some small writing that Ethan couldn’t read. On the other side of the coin was a three dimensional picture of a skeleton lying down with its ribs cracked and a sinister-looking knife embedded into its skull. I remember my coin as well. It had been used many years ago before I had joined the Army of the Devil. The only difference was that my coin featured a skeleton with that same knife embedded into the right side of its neck. Ethan felt the chills go down his spine and he put the coin away. He was headed to his old workplace, a small room with a couple of computers and tables here and there. He had worked with a small group of people who helped people erase their debts or change their IDs. Ethan himself had allowed about 50 disreputable people to re-establish a new life in a new country, free of debt as an entirely new person. This job had made Ethan a whole lot of money, but he quit when police had learned about these illegal operations. On leaving, Ethan had received the coin from a colleague, and he had warned him, “Whatever you do, do not lose this.” Ethan had assumed it to be a friendship token or maybe something that he would’ve recognized, if they meet again in the future and had kept it for all these years. He was almost where he needed to be. Just a right turn into the alleyway, and he would be there. The sprinkling rain turned into stronger rain, and within a minute it was heavily pouring. Ethan broke into a sprint towards his destination. The back entrance was used as the main entrance back then, but now it was planked shut. Ethan ran towards the front of the building. It was a lot different than when he had last seen it seven years ago. Instead of looking like an abandoned building, it was brightly lit and Ethan thought it looked more like a casino. He was correct. The words “THE DEVIL’S DEN” hung over the entrance in bright red typography. He tried to walk in, but was stopped by the bouncer. “Entrance ticket!” he demanded in a gruff manner. “I-I don’t have an entrance ticket,” replied Ethan. He looked around and saw other people handing bouncers large coins. A coin一 The Devil's Den. The coin had to be the entrance ticket! He took his coin out and showed it to the bouncer. The bouncer inspected the coin, looked at Ethan, looked at the coin again, and finally let him in. Ethan was surprised. He quickly stuffed the coin into his back pocket and stretched out his hands. So much had changed in seven years. After all, seven years isn’t a short period of time. There were elegantly styled crap tables and round tables with people sitting around them playing rounds of Blackjack and Poker. Ethan went up to one of the game supervisors. I recognized that man. T’was a buddy of mine. Or actually more of a fellow worker. Goes by Dan. “By any chance, do you know Jonathan Miller?” asked Ethan The Supervisor turned his head to face Ethan. That’s when Ethan noticed his unusually eerie countenance. There was something inhuman about his face, just like me, just like the rest of the Devil’s Servants. “Who’s asking?” questioned the Supervisor. “Ethan Smith, a former colleague.” “Hmmm.” The supervisor paused for a bit. “I don’t know him personally, but he owns this place.” “You know where I can find him?” asked Ethan. “He should be around back, but you can’t just waltz into his office,” he replied. Dan caught sight of me. He was probably surprised to see me here, but he gave me a wave. I gave him a wave back. Ethan decisively began walking towards the back of the building. “Thanks!” he exclaimed. Dan grunted. Finding John’s room was easy. Ethan came across it within a minute. The door read Jonathan “*The Devil*” Miller. Ethan knocked and entered. I followed suit. The room was quite bare. There was a single desk in the middle of the room with nothing on it except for an inkpot. The walls were a complex shade of red, and the room itself smelled like something was burning. Behind the chair, was a short, middle-aged man with a cigar in his mouth, wearing a white tux and a panama hat. In the furthest corners of the room were two bodyguards, both wearing black suits and sunglasses. I myself had only been in this room once. It was maybe four and a half years ago. The time when I had died. My memory isn’t really the best, as I cannot remember how I had come to pass. My Boss looked up. “Eddie?” asked John inquisitively. “Johnny!” exclaimed Ethan happily “Eddie, it’s been a long time. What have you been up to?” asked John. He then signalled his bodyguards to fetch Ethan a chair. “Same old. Partying all night, drinking at work.” He chuckled. John laughed. “What have you done to this place, Johnny?” The Boss’s laugh faded into a frown. “You don’t like it?” “No no no. It looks way better than before actually,” reassured Ethan. “Hmph,” he said in a dubious manner. “So, what brings you back?” “You still carry out the business that we used to do back then?” asked Ethan hopefully. “Perhaps.” John paused. “You need somethin?” “Well......ummm yeah. I actually needed a favor,” admitted Ethan quite guiltily. “A favor eh? What kind of favor, Eddie?” “Well, uhhhh a couple days ago, I accidentally ran over a grandma and what looked like her daughter. I got rid of the evidence, but my fears came true and it got into the news. Y’know, I was hoping you could kinda help me clear my name. Just like we used to in the old days,” he said, trying his best to be persuasive. John took off his hat. “Well, you see, it isn’t as easy as it was to get away with this kind of stuff. New laws and people are more likely to squeal nowadays...I can do it. Of course, I can; I’m the Devil, but I’m gonna need something in return,” he said mysteriously. “What, like my soul?” said Ethan jokingly. “Exactly,” said John. Huh, now that I recall, I do remember how I died. I ended up dying with a knife being stabbed into the right side of my neck.