Alone in the hospital waiting room the child looks up at the plain-looking mister with a vacant expression. An everyday fellow, one who not only looked like a face forgotten in a heartbeat, but had turned it into an art form. Easily but not too gracefully he takes a seat next to the smaller slouched figure.

“I knew your father you know.” The adult says to the child as he settles back into the chair. “He was a good friend of mine.”

The child’s eyes come into focus and he speaks his first word in two days, “Liar” and says nothing more as his gaze remains undeterred in its’ focus upon the whitewashed floor.

Raising a single ordinary eyebrow, the grown-up simply asks, “What was I lying about?”

“He wasn’t your friend. I could hear it. I always know when people lie. That’s why I know Mom isn’t going to get better. That’s why I know I’m going to be alone.” Monotoned and without inflection the boy sits and offers no more.

Chuckling, the man with mediocre looks and an okay haircut of medium length begins anew, “He did always brag about how good you were at seeing through people. Said it made it impossible to tell you bedtime stories when you were younger. I owe him a favor you see, but I’m not here to tell you what to do. No, I’m here to make a deal. Your Father told you that nothing is ever free. If it is, then there’s always a hidden cost somewhere. He told you that didn’t he?” Not waiting for an answer that would never come he continues, “You see I can help your mother. I can make sure she has the best of care for as long as it’s needed. Here’s the catch though. You gotta pay for it. And let me tell you, it ain’t gonna be cheap. No sirree, you’ll have to pay a lot. And here is where I come into your life. You see, I’m known by Mephistopheles. That’s a little long winded though, so I usually try to only say it once. You ever heard of my name?”

His interest perked, the boy’s head lifted as hope flickered across his visage. And then as if the expression was just a play of the light, it was gone, quashed by the remembrance of all his hopes that had come before. “From Faust, right? The demon who made the deal? Dad told me that story. He said he knew someone like that. Said that he liked giving people what they needed while making them think they got what they wanted.”

Flashing a toothy grin, the abnormally normal man showed the first thing that wasn’t so ordinary and plain: immaculate teeth. Teeth that, when bared, made his grin turn from mirthful to predatory. “Your father was a smart man. Now-“

“Lie” Cutting him off short, the child’s eyes began to lose some of the spark that had been ignited by the brief mention of helping his mother. “Why don’t you think he was smart?”, he asked, curiosity getting the better of him even as he drearirly smothered it.

Caught red-handed the regular fellow did what he did best: He told the truth. “He often made decisions based on his heart and not his brain.” Hurrying along know he would lose the boy’s attention altogether soon he spoke, “Now, here’s my deal, your silver thread if you will. I make sure that your Mother stays alive for as long as possible with the aid of modern medicine. In return, you work for me and The Boss. You’ll spend the next few years training and getting on site practice before going full time but from now on you do as I tell you to. Those are your choices and I won’t answer any more questions. Either you stay here, get put into a foster home as your mother withers away and dies, leaving you stuck with some crippling debt, and yes, I did look it up, you’d end up having to pay the bills once she passed away, OR you walk out with me, live a life that most could only dream of, and ensure that, if nothing else, your Ma gets treated right.”

“You’re not lying. Everybody lies, but you’re not.” Narrowing his eyes, the child takes perhaps his real look at the person beside him. Limp brown hair, unfocused brown eyes, with the beginnings of a patchy 5 o’clock shadow, dressed in black pants, a white-button up, and a tie hanging loose around his neck, the man looked to all the world as if he were perfectly relaxed right where he was, as if the next word out of the boy’s mouth were inconsequential and that this was all done at the spur of the moment. To the hollow boy that sat there before perhaps, this conversation was entirely meaningless. But to Salem, this was everything. “What do I have to do?”

The slack jawed face of the seated devil swung back up into his predatory grin, once more flashing his pearly white teeth as he pulled out a sheaf of paper and pen. “Sign here and I become your legal guardian.”

Signing his name as best a 14-year old could he handed back the paper, tucking the pen into his pocket, hoping the devil wouldn’t notice. It was a nice pen, wood and steel and a solid weight behind hit. On it was a single word. Family.

Standing, Mephistopheles walked towards the door, waving for the young man to follow.

“You know, I think you’ll get along just fine with the rest of The Family. Once I finish training you and you earn your name I think I’ve got just the perfect thing. How does Belial, the Lord of Lies sound?”