Original fiction (or is it?) short story. PG-13 for Satanic themes and references to blood and absinthe. That’s as much warning as you get. 
Note to stalker ex-husbands (all two hundred of you) and judgmental family members: I do not condone violence, Satanism, selling your soul, murder, bars in general, Old Ones, or Religion. But if it works for you, then that’s your bag.
DO NOT USE THIS STORY AS AN EXCUSE TO IRRITATE ME OR PUSH YOUR DOGMA ON ME, if you have any to push. I have been known to bite, and I have not recently had my shots.
