John was at his wit's end. Time itself seemed frozen. The mechanical clock of his car had stopped. He couldn't hear the engine, nor the whistle of the wind.
His attention was entirely on the man in front of him. Is he literally the devil? John thought.
"Do you know, John? Why do they call me the Devil?" the man asked.
John's mind raced, panic tightening his chest. But he managed to reply,
"Because… you appear in the middle of nowhere and scare the hell out of people!"
The man chuckled. "You're a funny guy, John. But it's not just that. This world doesn't believe I exist. They label anything they don't understand as magic—someone who fulfills their wishes as God. But…"
"But what?" John asked, his voice trembling.
"But I am no God. I don't grant wishes," the man said. "I make transactions, John. I am as eternal as time, as old as the universe, stronger than the most powerful warriors of your wildest imagination."
John shivered.
"But you know," the man said suddenly, his eyes piercing.
"You know what?" John replied shakily.
"I am fair. Right now, you cannot handle my soul. You are too weak," the man said. "So, I will give you a chance—a chance to truely get what you desire."
As he spoke, he conjured a revolver. Slowly, he loaded six bullets into it.
"This revolver has six bullets," he explained. "Each one can change the fate of anyone it touches."
John froze, paralyzed with fear. What had started as a drunken adventure to debunk an urban legend had now turned into a nightmare that was very real. He couldn't move. He couldn't even scream. He was barely able to think.
The man raised the revolver, aiming directly at John. His finger hovered over the trigger.
"But these… all six… they are for you," the man said. He pressed the trigger.
"My gifts for you."
Six bullets fired, striking John.
John Walker was dead