“You can’t get out of this,” Gus said, his eyes showing slight alarm. “Well, that’s not true. You can get out of this, but you shouldn’t.”
I laughed. “Why shouldn’t I? I don’t want to be the Devil for the rest of my afterlife!”
“Look,” Gus said calmly, “The usual way is to do what the last boss-man did to you: turn one of your freshly deceased descendants into your successor.”
“I can’t do that,” I said. “I don’t have any descendants.”
“No kids?” Gus asked.
“Dude, I’m seventeen,” I said. “Of course I don’t have any kids.”
“Sorry, I had no idea how old you were when you died. Age gets kind of equalized down here, and I think it took effect for you around the same time the Devil’s blood did.”
That took me by surprise. “Equalized?” I echoed. Gus opened the top drawer in the Devil’s desk, took out a handheld mirror, and held it out to me. I looked into it and saw my thirty-ish reflection. I couldn’t stop looking.
I was a pretty fine looking young man to begin with, but it seems like I would have made transition into adulthood very well. I looked handsome, fit, clean and well-groomed. “Wow,” I said. “I look great.”
Gus snatched the mirror back. “That’s very good, Fabio, but if you’re seventeen that means you’ll never have any descendants.”
“Does that mean I have to be the Devil forever?” I yelped in sudden realization.
“No, it doesn’t,” Gus said. “There are options. From what I’ve learned, in the past, some Devils have raped mortal women during their travels to the living realm.”
I winced. “So I either have to be Satan for eternity, or I have to rape some woman, wait for her kid to die, and then trick him into taking my place?”
“There’s also the possibility of promoting from the ranks of demons,” Gus added.
“Great, let’s do that,” I said, relieved.
“I can’t tell you what to do,” Gus said, speaking slowly and choosing his words carefully, “But do not fucking do that.”