John was a college student.
He lived a comfortable life—rich parents, siblings, and a close circle of friends. Yet despite all this, he was always bored. Life felt dull, repetitive, unspirited.
He craved thrill.
Extreme sports were his escape, the only moments that made him feel alive.
One night, while sitting in a bar and listening to music, he heard a legend—a poem whispered like a secret. It spoke of fortune, encounters, and destiny.
It went like this:
Some go for fortune, some for fame
Some for power, some for talent
At the crossroads they went,
Looking for a devil they never met
And he offered a glimmer of hope
In return—just their soul
John was a music lover, and he had heard plenty of urban legends about musicians and strange bargains. He never believed them.
In this day and age, who believed in devils and souls?
Extinct creatures were being brought back to life. Everything had a scientific explanation. To him, life was purely a physical construct. The mind was nothing more than a pile of information.
Souls were bullshit.
So he went.
To the crossroads.
Exactly at midnight.
He stopped his car and laughed to himself.
"What devil bullshit," he murmured.
Mockingly, he recited the poem aloud:
Some go for fortune, some for fame
Some for power, some for talent
At the crossroads they went,
Looking for a devil they never met
And he offered a glimmer of hope
In return—just their soul
And then he saw it.
A car stopped right in front of him.
A man stepped out, wearing a fancy suit and tie—perfectly executive, polished to the smallest detail. He wore a hat.
Something was wrong.
The headlights clearly illuminated him. John could see the man perfectly, recognize him even—but the moment he blinked, the man's face slipped from his memory. Every time he tried to recall it, there was nothing.
The man walked slowly toward John's car and gently knocked on the window.
Without thinking, John opened it.
The action felt natural—more natural than breathing itself.
Then he heard a voice say:
"So, John… tell me. Why do you seek me?"