Smoke curled, stirred up by the feeble swish of the ceiling fan. It wasn't so much cooling the room, as mixing the eye watering stench of the fag smoke with the sweet aroma of the cooking bacon sizzling on the grill out the back of the cafe.

A long slow gaze took in the rest of the trade. All men, all sullen, withdrawn and looking like they didn't have anywhere else to be, or want to be. Many were not even eating, all were smoking.

He placed his hands on the table.

Manicured nails punctuated long slender fingers and hands that had not done a day's manual labour in their life. He drummed one hand on the greasy, unwashed table in impatience.

His gaze had fallen on a rat of a man sat hunched over at a far table. He had watched as a stream of fags had been lit, dragged and stubbed into the overflowing ashtray.

The man took no notice of the stare. He was lost in his own private world, oblivious to all others around him.

The watcher stood and walked toward the man and without stopping to ask, sat down at his table. The man started as if stung and leaned back in surprise and anger.

'Easy friend,' He fixed a stare at the rat whose eyes were darting round the room panic stricken.

'Get out of my face,' he spat, 'What the fuck you want?'

'The real question,' here it came, 'is what do you want?'

The rest of the cafe were paying no attention to their conversation, they knew better than to get involved.

'What do I want? I wanna be left in peace to drink me bleedin tea!' To prove his point he picked up the tea and took a swig. His face didn't match his voice's eagerness and he stifled a grimace.

'That all?' He leaned across, dipped his finger in the milky tea and stirred while staring intently, almost lovingly at the puzzled face on the other side of the table.

'Wos your game eh?'

The milky finger was removed and it dripped tea on the sticky table top.

'My game, Derek, is your future.' He paused and flicked the milky finger, 'At present you don't have one.'

Smiling, he lunged forward until his face was a few inches from Derek, who went ashen, his hand shooting to his throat.

His gaping mouth wheezed as he laboured to catch his breath. Pleading eyes searched the face of the stranger, who, after a couple of agonizing seconds, moved leisurely back to his side of the table. Colour crept back into Derek's clammy cheeks.

He regarded Derek for a couple more seconds, then steepled his fingers under his chin and spoke.

'What do you like Derek' What are your dreams? What do think of when you lie awake at night?'

The now sheepish man had tears in his eyes.

'A way out,' a sob broke, 'a way out of this mess' He rolled up his sleeve and showed the track marks pocking his veins.

Fingers were separated and a hand went across the table and stroked Derek's cheek like a lover.

'I can help you Derek, I can help you escape this!' He waved his hand dramatically round the room.

He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out an envelope and laid it on the table and pushed it across.

The man took it gingerly and without breaking eye contact, slid the paper contents out and unfolded the letter.
He looked down and started to read. He stopped after a few seconds and looked back up, fear and questioning in his eyes.

'My soul?'

'Yes Derek. I can offer you whatever you wish in exchange for your signature. It's not a hard decision.'

'It's my soul!'

'Don't worry. You are most likely damned anyway. The man upstairs doesn't care much for shit like you Derek. I'm your best hope, live life while you can.' He flinched at the insult, tears again filled his eyes.

A pen had appeared and sat next to Derek's trembling hand. He grabbed it. The pen was icy to touch and he almost threw it back down but something in his head refused too and he gripped tighter. He hung on like to it like a lifeline.

His thumb pressed down on the lid and the snick of the nib appearing echoed round the room like a whip-crack.

The pen touched down and began to scratch across the paper. Fiery loops and whorls traced out his signature and the final full stop was hammered down with such fury that sparks crackled across the table.

Everything went silent and still.

He looked up at the man opposite and saw him in his true light.

Derek threw his head back and laughed. He laughed like he had just discovered how to, it was primeval.

The demon cracked a smile and held out his hand.

Derek took it and without struggle was led out of the dirty cafe and into the bright sunshine of his new future.