“You’re no demon.”

The revenant leaned over the table, dripping rotten meat from his barely attached face all over the stack of marks at the centre of the table. He inspected Bal’s face with such scrutiny that Bal thought there might actually be a brain in there somewhere, chugging along.

“I said that I was probably a demon, friend. There is a difference.”

The revenant scratched away at his fleshless chin, pondering Bal’s words. He was curious. Good. The more attention he paid to Bal, the less he paid to the game.

“How can you probably be a demon? You either are or you are not. Simple”

The revenant leaned back, smugly taking a swig from his drink. Perhaps he thought he was being clever, but the way the bubbling, sulphur smelling liquid dribble out from the many holes in his skin destroyed the image.

“Of course, friend, of course. You either are or you are not. Very clever. But, you see, I did not say I wasn’t fully a demon, I said I was probably a demon. There is another difference again, friend.”

The revenant leaned back further in his chair, mulling this new thought over. Bal shuffled the deck again, slipping in his own card right where he needed it, before dealing them out. The revenant was the only one at Bal’s table. No one would notice when he robbed the stupid demon blind.

“You certainly don’t look like a demon.”

The revenant had a point there. Bal was positively human in his appearance. Well, he thought he was, considering he had only ever seen the twisted bodies of those unfortunate to be dragged to Azoth’s domain.

“I assure you friend, I was born right here.”

Bal waved his hands at the surrounding cramped bar room, causing the revenant to gaze around, distracting him while Bal dealt out the cards.

“You were born in this tavern?!”

Bal stopped himself from laughing at the simpleton. Had to be friendly. Had to build his trust. Bal grinned and leaned forward.

“No friend, I only work here. I was born to a succubus up in Azoth’s palace.”

Bal grinned while the revenant had to divert all his brain power to figuring that one out.

“But Succubi can’t get pregnant! You’re just making fun of me”

The revenant grumbled and took another swig of his drink. Bal was indeed making fun of the barely held together flesh demon, but this part of Bal’s story was all true.

“I didn’t say the Succubus was pregnant, friend, I said I was born to her. There is a difference.”

That was too much for the poor rotting brain that lay inside the revenant’s skull. Bal swore he could see smoke puffing up from the over-worked organ. The revenant sighed in defeat and leaned his head on his hand. Finally taking a look at the cards that Bal had dealt him, his meaty face twisted into what Bal assumed was disappointment when he saw them. He should be disappointed, Bal had made sure to give him the worst hand possible. The house always won when Bal dealt.

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“I never knew Succubi could give birth. The more ya know, huh?”

The revenant raised his hand slightly, meaning he wanted another card. That’s what Bal loved about idiots. They never fold, always doubled down. Only a fool refused to trust the odds. Bal flicked him a card casually, smiling along with him.

“She didn’t know she could give birth either. Imagine her surprise when I popped out!”

The revenant chocked on his drink, laughing hard along with Bal.

“Well, what happened after that then?!”

All attention on the game had been abandoned as the demon was hooked onto Bal’s tale. He was a curiosity among the demon’s, so his story never failed to arrest their interest. Bal gathered himself and dragged out his story telling voice, a skill he had practiced for hours at these tables. It was one of the many skills he needed to fool the most despicable and distrustful creatures in existence.

“Well, whenever I was born, there was chaos in the palace. One of Azoth’s own succubi had given birth! An impossibility! There were those who believed that I was Azoth’s own, given that it was one of his ‘personal’ succubi that had given birth. I don’t think I need to tell you, friend, the uproar that would have caused. A mini Azoth walking around. However, all these rumours were put to bed when they decided to actually take a look at me.”

Bal gestured towards his face, pointing out his green eyes and showing off his olive skin. Bal gave a winning smile, all the while dealing himself a card that he knew would win him the game without a doubt.

“I’m still the same as the day I was born friend; not a demonic trait on me. More human than anything. This, naturally, caused even more chaos in the palace. Azoth, being the great and kind demon that he is, decided to treat me as he would any other human, and threw me into a pit of Hell-fire. Turns out I’m not quite as flammable as they thought.”

The demon chuckled along, despite having just lost a fair amount of marks. Bal gathered in his winnings: the third round he had won in a row. He would have to lose the next one. Build trust. Build hope.

“I still don’t get it though. You don’t have any horns! You can’t be a demon if you don’t have horns! It’s what make us demons! That and the whole evil thing.”

“Ah very clever, my friend, you have hit upon the crux of the matter! How can a demon have no horns? How could an angel have no wings? A very astute question indeed!”

Bal started shuffling the deck again, making sure that the revenant would have a good hand this time.

“Indeed, that is why I said I was probably a demon. I was born here, lived here all my life, and yet I’m distinctly undemonic in my appearance. A great mystery, surely. Not even a horn, unless you count what is between my legs!”

The demon’s sickly yellow eyes, already alight with mirth, burned brighter when he looked at his cards. A wicked grin cut across his face, causing some more flesh to drop off. It would grow back eventually, anyway. Bal took a sip of his own drink, hot bubbling liquid spilling down his parched throat. Story telling was thirsty work.

Bal gazed around the small tavern he had found himself employed at. A small place: it was popular with the lower ranking demons who just wanted to drink and gamble the time away. No high rollers here. He glanced toward the bar, where his gaze found that of the owner’s, Mr. Slazer. He tapped his fingers against his hand, meaning that it was time for Bal to finish up for the night.

“Seems this will have to be our last round friend. Now where was I, ah yes! So, like I said, if I was born here, to a demon no less, then surely, I should be a demon, yes? And yet, I look nothing like one? So, Azoth the wise, declared that as I should be a demon, then I probably was a demon. A 60 percent chance of demonism, he said. They’ve kept me around ever since. A good luck charm, some called me.”

The barrage of words had defeated the demon’s mental capacity, so it just smiled and nodded, happy to have won a round of cards. Very happy indeed, despite having lost far more in the previous rounds.

The demon suddenly looked very puzzled about something and leaned over the table as Bal was getting up to go.

“Hey, Bal? You wouldn’t happen to know anything about scary purple portals that appear out of nowhere, do ya?”

Scary purple port…. What was this brain-dead demon talking about now?

“No. No I don’t think I do know anything about scary purple portals. Why do ya ask?”

Bal asked as he got up to go.

“Well, because one right there and reaching out to grab you Bal.”

Bal didn’t have time to ask what in the seven hells this fool was talking about before deformed purple hands grabbed a hold of him, pulling him towards the gaping hole into nothingness. The last thing Bal saw was the fool grabbing all Bal’s hard-won marks before he was swallowed whole.