Meeting on a Cold Night: Discussions with the Devil

It was cold that day, if it was day at all, as the sky gave no hint of sun except that it was not dark. The sky was, in fact, the same blank white of the snow that covered the ground, giving the appearance of flatness and hiding the holes and gullies that make traveling through the forest painful to one not attuned to his surroundings. The man had walked for several days. He wore nothing but a thread-bare coat and carried no packages for food or bedding. He was so lost in himself and his thoughts that he was completely oblivious to his surroundings. He thought of what he had been through, what he had lost, and what, if anything, lay before him. He had not noticed the peculiarity of the wood he had wandered into with its tall, thin trees, black against the white snow and sky. He had not noticed the lack of footprints or any signs of life. All he saw were the memories that clouded his mind and dressed his face with a look of constant sorrow and apprehension. He did not see the man leaning against the only tree in the wood thicker than his wrist until he spoke.

"Good day, friend," said the man, moving away from the tree to stand upright with the air of someone who had waited a long time, "How are your travels this evening?"

Startled from his thoughts, the man looked up.

"Fine, I guess, and how are you kind sir?" he stammered back, looking around a bit bewildered. He took notice of his surroundings for the first time, and as he looked, he noticed that the only tracks in the snow belonged to him; there were no tracks anywhere else. When he returned his attention to the stranger, who was talking about the weather and other trivial things with a bemused look on his face, he noticed the man wore an ankle-length grey wool coat and a bright red scarf.

"As you can see, it is much too cold for you to be wandering in the forest this time of night. Come, let us make a deal, and you will sleep in a warm bed tonight, safe and secure from the nightmares that hunt you."