Deal with the Devil Part One (WWE, 12/26/12, Soul searching)

Prompt: Write a story or poem about a person that says they'd sell their soul for ...  Who shows up to buy that person's soul and how does it turn out when it's time to pay up?

Note: This prompt, of course, inspired me to write a short story. This is all I have written thus far. Enjoy.

Life had been complete and utter hell since her husband Phillip died a year ago. Numb with grief, she walked through life on instinct. Then, her pain had grown worse, realizing that they never had children. Those dreams had been put aside, wanting their careers and life to become financially stable first.

But, two years of marriage later, their money situation had never been stable enough; they had become fully entrenched into their occupations.

Phillip, early on, had received a promotion along with a cushy corner office garnering more hours spent at work. She had not cared at the time, thinking that eventually everything would work out for the best. Then, one day, after a puzzling continued weight loss, her beloved had finally gone to the doctor, when it had been far too late to do anything.

If he had gone sooner, the doctor had said, the cancer might not have spread so far and wide. They may have been able to do something to save him.

After Phillip had died, his body laid to rest in his grave; she had not stopped trying to build a life. She had taken two full months of bereavement leave before going back to work. But, that’s when the cycle of horror had started.

Bills of his hospital stay, the remainder the insurance had not paid; tax bills long overdue he had not bothered to tell her about and the final humiliation: Phillip’s secret life. She found out he had been cheating on her; a whole week after their honeymoon was over.

The stress of endless hours at work, bills and his cheating caused her to snap, anger guiding her actions.

Her forehead buried in her hands, she screamed, “I would sell my soul for a way out of these problems!”

Sulfur teased her nostrils. She sniffed the air, thinking that she must be going insane. But, the smell did not dissipate. In fact, it got worse.

Head slowly lifting, she gasped at the sight before her eyes.

Dressed in an immaculate, red crushed velvet suit, a definite masculine creature stood in her living room. Only, when she blinked, she could swear that he could not be a creature at all. His appearance screamed human, while having the essence of demon at the same time.

His hands were large with smooth, slightly curved knuckles. Gazing down at his fingernails, she saw they were perfectly manicured, no dirt lurking underneath. He had sinfully black locks, framing a square jaw; devoid of facial hair. His eyes were the most piercing, chocolate brown she had ever seen. A flawlessly sculptured, aquiline nose and full pouty lips rounded out his features. If sin were personified, he would be proclaiming it out loud with the sensuality he exuded.

Then, he smiled.

Every part of her flesh tingled when his pearly teeth flashed. A wash of heat splashed her body, curling her toes, sending her into a tizzy of female hormones. She gulped, knowing she would be sunk, unable to fight any temptation he presented.

The creature/would be demon crooked his forefinger. “Stand up my lovely. Let me see you more clearly.”

Immediately, she stood. Her heart fluctuated, it flipped, turned, dived, and her pulse continuously sped.

He shook his head slowly, back and forth. “Oh, no, venture further dear, up very close.”

Her legs carried her so close to him that she could smell his breath. Like the rest of him, his breath cool, reminding her of peppermint, caressed her skin, setting her ablaze.

He tipped up her slightly rounded chin with his fingertip, his mouth curved in amusement. “You are beautiful, young and an unexpected candidate for my sort of help. But, oh well, beggars cannot be choosers, now can we?”

Before she could successfully digest that statement, he dropped her chin. His eyes turned serious. He snapped his fingers and poof; an unwrinkled, white document the size of a standard sheet of 8.5" by 11" paper appeared in his hand. Carefully, he laid it down on the coffee table.

“Before we get down to business, I guess I should formally introduce myself.” Bowing deeply, he chuckled. His eyes met hers; they were red hot, almost like fire. “I am Satan. It is a pleasure to meet you Alexandra.”

Here's an update: I was not happy with the way I wrote the beginning of this story, so I re-wrote it today. Here is the new and improved version:

Life had been complete, utter hell since her husband died a year ago. Numb with grief, she kept going purely on instinct. Her pain had grown steadily worse, realizing that they would never have children. Those dreams had been put aside, wanting their life to be financially stable first.

But, after two years of marriage, their money situation had never been stable enough. They had, instead, become fully entrenched into their occupations. Phillip, early on, had received a promotion along with a cushy corner office, spending more hours at work.

Then, one day, after continued puzzling weight loss, Phillip had gone to the doctor, when it had been far too late. If he had gone sooner, the man had said, the cancer might not have spread so far and wide throughout his system. The physicians may have been able to do something to save him.

After Philip had died, his body laid to rest in his grave; she had not stopped trying to build her life. She had taken two months of bereavement leave before going back to work. But, that's when the cycle of horror began.

Bills of his hospital stay, the remainder the insurance had not paid began coming due. Tax bills he had not bothered to inform her about landed at her door. And the final humiliation came from her husband's secretary, informing her that they had been having an affair, a whole week after their honeymoon had ended and that it had continued until his final days.

The stress of the endless hours working, the numerous bills and his cheating, caused her to snap, anger guiding her actions.

Her forehead in her hands, she screamed, “I would sell my soul for a way out of these problems!”

Sulfur teased her nostrils. She sniffed the air, thinking that she must be going insane. But, the smell did not dissipate. In fact, it got worse.

Head slowly lifting, she gasped at the sight before her eyes. Dressed in an immaculate, red crushed velvet suit, a definitely masculine creature stood in her living room. Only, when she blinked, she could swear that he could not be a creature at all. His appearance screamed human, while having an underlying essence of demon at the same time.

His hands were large with smooth, slightly curved knuckles. Gazing down at his fingernails, she saw they were perfectly manicured, no dirt lurking underneath. He had sinfully black locks, framing a square jaw; devoid of any facial hair. A flawlessly sculptured, aquiline nose and full pouty lips rounded out his features. If sin were personified, he would be proclaiming it out loud with the sensuality he exuded.

Then, he smiled.

Every part of her flesh tingled when his pearly teeth flashed. A wash of heat splashed her body, curling her toes, sending her into a tizzy of female hormones. She gulped, knowing she would be sunk, unable to fight any temptation he presented.

The creature/would be demon crooked his forefinger. “Stand up my lovely. Let me see you more clearly.”

Immediately, she stood. Her heart fluctuated, it flipped, turned, dived, and her pulse continuously sped.

He shook his head slowly, back and forth. “Oh, no, venture further dear, up very close.”

Her legs carried her so close to him that she could smell his breath. Like the rest of him, his breath cool, reminding her of peppermint, caressed her skin, setting her ablaze.

He tipped up her slightly rounded chin with his fingertip, his mouth curved in amusement. “You are beautiful, young and an unexpected candidate for my sort of help. But, oh well, beggars cannot be choosers, now can we?”

Before she could successfully digest that statement, he dropped her chin. His eyes turned serious. He snapped his fingers and poof; an unwrinkled, white document the size of a standard sheet of 8.5" by 11" paper appeared in his hand. Carefully, he laid it down on the coffee table.

“Before we get down to business, I guess I should formally introduce myself.” Bowing deeply, he chuckled. His eyes met hers; they were red hot, almost like fire. “I am Satan. It is a pleasure to meet you Alexandra.”