The Deal With The Devil

MORTAL REALM

Becca lay on the bed, her body aching with discomfort, but she barely noticed. Every pang in her back was a small price to pay for the life growing inside her. Her hands gently caressed her rounded belly, her eyes soft with love.

"I wonder if you'll have your father's eyes or mine," she mused aloud, a small laugh escaping her lips. "No, it must be mine."

"Really?" A voice teased from behind the door leading to the shower. James emerged, his hair damp and tousled. "It must be my eyes, and my smile," he said with a playful grin, toweling his hair dry.

"Oh, really?" Becca replied, her tone light as she shifted to make herself more comfortable. "So you won't leave any options for me?"

"Nope," James teased, tossing the towel onto the nearby sofa before walking over to her side. He sat down next to Becca, his gaze softening as he placed his hands gently over hers. "I know for sure she'll be mesmerizing," he continued, his voice quiet but full of certainty. "Just like the woman I married."

Becca's heart fluttered as she met his eyes, the warmth between them undeniable. She smiled, her lips curling up at the corners. James leaned in, and without another word, he pressed a deep, lingering kiss to her lips, sealing the moment with his affection.

Soon it was Night time, The room was still, the soft rise and fall of Becca and James's breathing the only sound as they lay nestled together, finding solace in each other's warmth. Shadows cloaked the corners, but one moved unnaturally, lingering. Watching.

Lucifer stepped forward, his presence commanding even in the silence. His fiery red hair fell across his forehead, his face expressionless but radiating an unshakable intensity. His sharp red eyes, though closed, seemed to take in everything. Slowly, he stretched his arms outward, his movements deliberate and fluid, as though time itself bent to his will.

A faint glow emerged from Becca's stomach, and a dull, lifeless stone rose into the air. It hovered briefly before drifting toward Lucifer's outstretched hand. He caught it, his fingers closing around it without hesitation. In one swift motion, he crushed it to dust, the fragments vanishing like they had never existed.

With a measured breath, Lucifer placed a hand over his chest, and a brilliant, pulsating stone emerged, its light stark against the dark. Rose's stone. He stared at it for a moment, his sharp features softening with a fleeting emotion—was it grief? Resolve? With a flick of his wrist, he directed the stone back into Becca's body. "Your time has not yet come," he murmured, his voice low and solemn, as though the words were meant for someone else entirely.

Murmurs escaped his lips—low, melodic, and haunting. The words, ancient and foreign, seemed to hang in the air, their power tangible.

Becca stirred, her eyelids fluttering open. Her gaze fell on Lucifer, and dread gripped her like a vice.

Lucifer's expression didn't falter, though his head tilted slightly, acknowledging her fear without opening his eyes. With a mere thought, he silenced her.

Her lips parted to scream, but before she could, a strange warmth flooded her mind. The fear ebbed away, replaced by a comforting haze.

His spell completed, Lucifer's eyes snapped open, glowing faintly. In an instant, he moved, closing the distance between them faster than Becca's mind could register. One moment he was across the room; the next, he was mere inches from her.

"You will forget all that you've seen," he said, his voice low and smooth, like a blade wrapped in velvet.

Becca's vacant eyes mirrored his as she repeated, "I will forget all that I've seen." Her voice was flat, devoid of resistance.

Lucifer studied her for a moment, ensuring his command had taken root. Satisfied, he vanished into the shadows without a sound, his presence dissipating like smoke.

Moments later, Becca blinked, her awareness returning. She looked around, confused as to why she was awake. Maybe she needed the restroom? She wasn't sure. Slowly, she swung her legs over the side of the bed and stood.

A strange sensation trickled down her legs. She froze, her breath catching. This wasn't urine. Her water had just broken.

"Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!" Becca's scream shattered the silence, jolting James out of his sleep. He sat up so fast he nearly fell off the bed.

"What happened? What's wrong?" he asked, fumbling for the bedside lamp. The warm light filled the room, and his bleary eyes landed on Becca, standing next to the bed, her face frozen in fear and confusion.

She didn't answer, just stared wide-eyed at her legs. James followed her gaze and froze. "Y-your w-water..." he stammered, pointing like an idiot.

"I'm not supposed to have her this early," Becca said, her voice trembling. Her hands clutched her belly like it might keep the baby in. Then, her expression changed, fiery and determined. "Why are you just sitting there? Take me to the hospital!"

James snapped out of his daze, scrambling off the bed so quickly he tripped over the blanket. "Okay, okay! Hospital! Right! Let me just—uh, where's the—wait, where are my pants?" he babbled, spinning in circles like a headless chicken.

Becca threw him a glare so sharp it could have sliced through steel. "James, I swear, if you don't get it together right now—"

"Found them!" he yelled, holding up a random sock.

"That's a sock!" Becca shouted back, her frustration boiling over as another contraction hit. She let out a groan, gripping the edge of the bed for support.

"Okay! Pants, keys, wallet, wife, baby—got it," James muttered to himself, finally locating his jeans and shoving them on backward in his panic.

"James!"

"I'm here, I'm here!" he said, rushing to her side. His hands trembled slightly as he helped her up, his eyes darting between her and the door. "We'll be there in no time, okay? Just hold on."

"Wait, the bag!" Becca shrieked.

James froze mid-step. "The what now?"

"The hospital bag! The one I packed weeks ago! By the door!"

"Oh, right! The bag!" He awkwardly shuffled back, grabbed the bag with one hand, and bolted out again.

"James, if you drop me, I'll—"

"I won't!" he interrupted, breathless. "But if this kid inherits your temper, we're in serious trouble."

Becca let out a strained laugh through her pain, her grip tightening on James's arm. "Move, genius, before I have this baby right here," she said, her voice cracking with both urgency and fear.

And with that, they were out the door, ready—or not—to meet their daughter.