“Mhmm, that smells good,” a man in a Scooby-Doo mask whispered in my ear. I jumped, almost dropping my witch’s hat and drink. “Ex-cuse me?” I stuttered. “You brought a candy apple. Do you seek a deal?” “Oh, no, my mum gave it to me. She always says, ‘You never know when you’ll need it.’” I laughed awkwardly. He leaned closer as he said, “She’s made a deal before, huh?” I searched for someone amidst the party to rescue me from this strange encounter. I recognized no one nearby. His hands rubbed together in anticipation. “You can have the apple, if you want,” I said, placing my drink down on an end table, and ruffling through my costume’s drawstring purse. “That’s not how this works,” he snapped. My hands stilled and I looked over at him. Even through the mask, I felt his scorn piercing me. He explained, “When a deal is struck, you eat the apple and claim a demon’s heart, in exchange for one’s deepest desire.” I humored him. “Right. Well, maybe I want to be a renowned writer. Is that something a demon could do?” He clapped his hands. “But, of course!” I pulled out the apple wrapped in orange cellophane from my drawstring purse. Holding the wooden stake, I bit into it, savoring the salty sweetness of caramel and apple. Each bite became more tough and fibrous, and the sweetness tasted like iron. I frowned. He rolled his hands to encourage one more bite. As I did, a gush of red dribbled down the apple’s stick, streaming down my arm. A bloodcurdling scream escaped my lips. Inside the half-eaten apple, a black heart beat against the hard caramel, blood boiled over like a cauldron with every thud-thump. The man behind the mask cackled. His voice changed into a gruff growl, and the mask lifted, exposing the burnt face of a red-eyed demon. With a flick of his forked tongue, he announced, “A deal is struck, your soul belongs to me.”
