Dancing With The Devil

There he was. The man who had been watching me. I was stood before him, his sharp suit, charming smile and intriguing eyes. I couldn't decide what to think of him. He was trouble, but I liked it. He stepped towards me. "May I have this dance?" He asked, holding out a hand before I even agreed, but I did agree. Just as I did, his slick, black hair became red horns, his charming smile became a sneer, and the room around me became a harsh and furious fire. Hell. I was dancing with the devil. And I loved it.