The Long Con (Patreon)

"I'm honestly really bored with all the limitations. One wish for one soul. It's not like the first few wishes anyone does differ that much. Wealth, health, and whatever helps you bed the one you've had your sights on."

You try to listen to what he says. It's objectively interesting to have a glass of Islay single malt with an actual demon, but it so damned hard to concentrate. Whatever sexual orientation or prior commitments you had before are out the window, as you sit and lust for the body opposite you. His lithe body, dark hair, and indescribable eyes that seemingly shift color between steel blue and deep amber depending on how he positions his head. They reflect the light just a tad too much, making you wonder if they glow or not.

This is not how you thought it would go when you read the incantation. You had fears, of course, of fantastical beings, ghouls and goblins, goat heads on human bodies, smoke that billowed to the shape of nightmare shadows and filled the air with the stench of sulfur, rot, and filth. But you also had hopes and wishes of wealth and health, as he put it, that outweighed any notion of risk you had. It's not like you thought it would actually work.

"Health is tautologically about survival. Wealth is really also about survival. Falling in love, at least historically, is about securing the end of your life, and your legacy. You really have to get past those basic needs before you get to any of the unique desires. The interesting stuff, you know. Something that speaks to a deeper truth about the creation than mere survival."

To your surprise it did work, and to your relief you didn't call forth any horrors from beyond into existence. You got Adrammelech. It wasn't just that you didn't expect it to work at all, or that you didn't expect the ritual to summon a human form into your apartment, what stunned you was the beauty of the man in front of you. Well, demon. He smiled a warm smile, made a dainty curtsy, looked deep into your eyes, and said  "Adrammelech, at your service" almost flirtatiously. That was just under two hours and a few glasses ago.

"Hey, I know! What if we flip the rules around. Instead of you writing a contract where I have to do what you want, in exchange for your 'soul' or whatever, I get to contract you to be my underling in exchange for whatever you want." He made a twisted grimace and his voice dripped of disdain as he said soul, but the rest of it was upbeat. More upbeat than you've seen him in the past 30 minutes of cosmic complaining. Excited even.

"Ooh! Ooh! Listen to this! If you work for me, then there aren't really any limitations to what I can do. No disease? No damage? All up to me! It's just a work benefit. No aging either. You want another 50 years? Another 100 years? No problem."

You start to realize what he is getting at. "200 years?" you try.

"Hell yeah! 500 for all I care. Imagine how much you could do. Just think of the possibilities."

You're almost disappointed when he produces the contract document from his jacket a few minutes later. "Let dreams come true," he says as he hands it over to you. It looks like someone laser-printed a single sheet word document on a high-quality paper. It's really mundane for something so life-altering. If you hadn’t seen him materialize in front of your own eyes two hours ago you’d thought this was a prank. Perhaps it still was. You agree to be his subject for 500 years in exchange for one wish. He puts a nice looking pen on the table and refills both tumblers with a few fingers of scotch. It's the most simple contract you've ever seen. It doesn't take many seconds to read. Not many seconds to sign either.

"Let's make dreams come true," he says with a smile.
Immediately you feel a warmth spreading all over your body, and a dull ache, like muscle soreness. You look at your arm, which quickly grows longer, thicker, more tanned, and more muscular. All of you are changing, you realize. You’re a bit confused, but perhaps he is showing off. Giving you a taste of those possibilities.
"First I would like..." you begin.
"Shush! Not your dreams. You work for me now." No, the eyes were definitely glowing embers.

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