"Selling my soul... What does that actually do?" Mara said.
"It do exactly as you think it is. Your soul is no longer your own. Obviously you are still you. But if I want anything..." The goat-horned man smiled.
He didn't need to say anything more. The deal was clear.
"You can make me... Pretty?" The Crone said.
"I can make you pretty on the outside. And I can make you pretty on the inside as well. The latter needs you to meet one of my beneficiaries."
"Your beneficiaries?"
"I own more than ten thousand souls, little witch."
The thought of those souls shocked the Crone. This was not the kind of man that would lie to something about it. He didn't feed to. A man to his stature needed no lie.
"What do you want from me?"
"Your loyalty, little witch. Your loyalty."
The devil reached his hand out and patted Mara's head. He didn't hide his disgusting look and wiped his hands the table.
"Your Wicked Magic really has gone out of control." The devil pouted.
