They Say He's in the Details

Story Sent in by Martha:

Andrew found me online, and we talked for a week before meeting in person for a walk and dinner.

During our walk, he confided something in me: "I think that I'm somehow connected to the Devil."

I asked, "Like, you mean you're a hellraiser?"

He said, "No. I mean that I literally have some sort of connection to him. When I was young, my mother would always call me a little devil, and then in school, all the kids would call me devil boy. I have no idea why, as I never told any of them what my mother used to call me. I ended up playing for a hockey team called the devils, I was a devil three times for Halloween, candles blow out for no reason when I walk by them… there's no doubt that I'm some sort of dark entity."

I suggested, "Let's light a candle. See if it works."

He replied, "It doesn't happen always. Just sometimes."

"Oh. Maybe these are all just coincidences."

He said, "I thought that, once. Then a demon appeared to me in a dream and told me that I belonged to him."

"Maybe it was just a dream."

He blurted, "I'm connected to the devil, and you're just going to have to face it!"

I said, "I don't think you're really connected to the devil."

"Then how can I do this?" he asked, and stuck out his hand toward the sky, as if he meant to make it rain fire and brimstone. Nothing happened.

He then stretched his hand down toward the ground. "Come!  Come, come!" he yelled at the asphalt. Again, no results.

He sighed and said, "Something usually happens."

"What?"

"Something. Want to get dinner?"

At dinner, he told me all about how he had fallen into trances and climbed the mountains of hell and explored its caves. It was all very entertaining, and he even offered details about the sky in hell, the volcanoes, and what the wind smelled like ("It's really not that bad," he assured me).

After dinner, we meant to part ways, and he asked me if I'd go out with him again. I told him that I'd think about it, but the fact that he was devil spawn was likely not going to work in his favor.

"It rarely does," he confessed, "But I thought I'd give it a try. I'm going to try and make a meteor shower tonight. Be sure to look out your window before going to bed."

"I will."

I forgot to, so I missed out on the proof that I'm sure was apparent to anyone else watching the night sky.