On Christmas Eve, I made a wish. In my haste, I accidentally wrote "Satan" instead of "Santa." The next day, a gorgeous man with crimson eyes knocked on my apartment door. He leaned lazily against the doorframe, his long, slender fingers holding my wish list. "What kind of garbage wish is this?" he asked, his voice deep and smooth. "What does this mean: 'Your faithful believer wishes for a life of luxury, endless money, and a devoted, domestic malewife to take care of me. Also, please bring one million dollars in cash. Thanks.'" Chapter 1 I opened the door wearing my bear-print pajamas, eyes still crusty with sleep. A man who was at least 6'3", with a chest that looked like it could crack walnuts, was standing right there on my welcome mat. I rubbed my eyes. I wasn't dreaming. The handsome stranger looked down at me, his gaze cold and sharp. He clicked his tongue impatiently. "What kind of garbage wish is this?" That's when I noticed the piece of paper between his fingers. "'Your faithful believer wishes for a life of luxury... a devoted, domestic malewife... one million dollars...'" Gasp! That was the note I wrote to Santa Claus before bed last night! I was instantly wide awake. Did Santa actually come to grant my wish? "It means exactly what it says," I said, rubbing my hands together in excitement. "I didn't realize Santa was such a hottie." The handsome man didn't seem to hear my compliment. He looked at me with disdain and said, "So, are you willing to sell your soul to me?" I was too immersed in the joy of winning the lottery to process that properly. "Wait, you can really make it happen?" "Can I add a little more?" I clasped my hands together and bowed piously to the hot guy. "Oh great Santa, I wish for world peace, national security, and a healthy life in my next incarnation..." "Hey, wait, Santa is foreign, right? Do you handle affairs over here in the States?" The man interrupted my rambling. "Why are you talking about that fat old man?" "The most he does is stuff a doll in your dirty sock. That's for children." I looked at him, confused. "If you don't wish to Santa on Christmas, who do you wish to? And why are you insulting yourself?" The man looked at the paper in his hand, then back at me, his eyes filled with a mix of pity and amusement. "So, you're illiterate." "Hey! I can read!" "You don't know who Satan is?" "Yeah, I do. It's how you spell Santa!" "...That is S-A-N-T-A. You wrote S-A-T-A-N." I blinked a few times. Finally, the gears turned. "Oh. I made a typo. Sorry to bother you." Slam. I shut the door in his face, locking the deadbolt for good measure. Chapter 2 Satan? That name sounded familiar. I quickly Googled it. My heart sank. It wasn't Santa Claus coming to grant my wish. I had summoned the Lord of Hell. And I just slammed the door in his face... My phone started vibrating. A string of anonymous texts popped up: [Now do you know who you made a wish to?] [Scared? Cat got your tongue?] [Tsk, no need to be terrified. Satan doesn't eat people.] [Are you mute?] I stared at the screen for three seconds, then blocked the number. Chapter 3 Leaning against the streetlamp outside, Satan looked at the red exclamation mark on his phone screen indicating he'd been blocked. He quietly whispered, "What the f..." Chapter 4 This wasn't just any Satan. This was a highly localized, modern Satan. I paced around my room anxiously. His English was perfect, he texted like a zoomer—he was adapting too fast. I didn't know if blocking him would work. Would he haunt me? I frantically opened a delivery app and ordered a pile of exorcism supplies. Sage, garlic, holy water, a crucifix, salt, a Bible... I waited anxiously for forty minutes. The delivery driver knocked. I checked the peephole to make sure Satan wasn't there before opening the door. But the delivery guy looked up, his eyes glazed over, his mouth opening and closing robotically: "Unblock me... Unblock me... Unblock me..." Terrified, I called the building security. The security guard came up, grumbling, but as soon as he reached my door, he got possessed too: "Unblock me... Unblock me..." I screamed. My neighbor opened his door to yell at the noise. He locked eyes with me and immediately joined the chorus. I gave up. Trembling, I pulled Satan out of the block list. Chapter 5 A new message popped up instantly: [You got guts. You dare delete me?] At the same time, the chanting outside my door stopped. I let out a breath. I immediately surrendered via text: [Big bro, please. I was wrong. I'm sorry, okay?] He replied: [You have no manners. If you block me again, I'll make everyone you touch repeat that phrase forever.] That was too much psychological horror for me. I sent a row of "I'm sorry" kneeling emojis. His mood seemed to improve slightly. [You know who I am now?] [Yes, yes. Lord Satan, sir. Can you go back now? It's cold out, sorry for making you come all this way.] [...You think you can summon me and dismiss me at will?] What did he mean? Was he trying to extort me? I didn't have anything to give. I gritted my teeth and typed: [If you want money, I have none. If you keep this up, I'm calling the cops.] A cool breeze suddenly brushed past my ear. A deep voice whispered right against my skin: "Since I'm here, I must take something with me." I covered my ears, squeezed my eyes shut, and screamed, "Murder is illegal!" Satan didn't appear, but his voice echoed in my head. "What use is killing you? I can grant your wish, you know." His voice was seductive. "Now, stand up. Go to the door." Involuntarily, I followed the voice to the door. "Open it." "The money is outside."
? Continue the story here ?? ? Download the "MotoNovel" app ? search for "388748", and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel