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    “I want to make a deal,” Wilbur repeats, and the devil rolls his eyes.

    “So, you’ve said.”

    “Me, for Tom—”

    Before Wilbur can finish the sentence, the devil throws his head back and cackles. Raw, manic cackles that cracks in the air like lightning. Spittle flies as he whips his head down, pinning Wilbur into place with deranged eyes.

    “You? Oh, lover boy, your soul ain’t worth the pot to piss in.”

    ~

    or, Wilbur makes a deal with the devil

    Language:
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    11 Jan 2024