I met someone who claimed to be the devil...and I think I might believe them.

When I was nineteen I used to work as a gas station attendant in a small town in the middle of nowhere. I grew up in this town and enjoying working there even though I often got bored. The same people came and went, buying their morning coffee and breakfast sandwich on the go every morning, and their afternoon beer on the way home every night. We had a few regulars that would come at night and drink with my coworker and I as we worked the graveyard shift. We would talk, and I would get stoned with my coworker Dave, and life was good. <br><br>There was one customer in particular that sticks out in my mind. It was a man and a woman. I don’t know if they were a couple or not, but they were definitely traveling together. The first time I saw him, it was three or four in the morning. The sun was just starting to peek above the horizon when a black sports car whipped into the parking lot. It was going extremely fast when it turned into the station, and it did a little donut in the parking lot. I laughed as the car skidded sideways and came to rest in the parking space nearest to the door. <br><br>The driver’s side door swung open and the man got out. He jogged to the door and opened it, revealing himself to be tall and lean. He had jet black hair that was slicked back and a small beard. I couldn’t see too well because he wore a pair of sunglasses. Who wears sunglasses at four in the morning? I thought. <br><br>When he got to the register I greeted him. “How’s it going man? I’m gonna need your card or cash.” <br><br>“Good thanks,” he replied, with a hint of a smile. He handed me a black credit card. I swiped it. It didn’t register. “Sorry man. You gotta try it again,” I told him. <br><br>“Strange,” he muttered, but swiped it again. I looked at the screen. Declined. “Weird.” He tried it a third time. Declined. “This is ridiculous,” he said. <br><br>“Sir, I think you might need to call your bank,” I said. “This happens sometimes.” I have worked at gas stations for years. If a customer tried to purchase something three times and the card declined three times, it usually meant that their bank flagged the activity as suspicious. <br><br>He pulled out his phone and dialed a number. “Hello,” he said, “Why has my card been declined?” He waited for a moment. Then he said, “That’s preposterous. I have enough money to buy this station. Let me speak to your supervisor.” He waited again. Then he said, “I don’t care. Give me the number for corporate.” <br><br>I shifted uncomfortably as he spoke on the phone. I didn’t know what to say, or what to do. He finally hung up the phone. “I’m so sorry about this,” he said. “I’ll be right back.” He walked outside to his car and opened the passenger side door. A woman stepped out. <br><br>At first, I thought it was a man. I swear. She was tall and muscular. She had short, choppy black hair that reminded me of a Robert Smith from The Cure. Her eyes gleamed red in the fluorescent lighting of the station. <br><br>“Jesus Christ,” I said. “You’re...” I couldn’t finish. I lost my words. <br><br>“I am Lilith,” she said. <br><br>“No, I mean you’re beautiful,” I finished. <br><br>“Thank you,” she said with a smile that showed off her pointed teeth. <br><br>“You know what? This one is on the house,” I said. <br><br>“Thank you, that’s very kind,” she said. <br><br>The man walked back inside. “My card has been declined,” he said. “I don’t know what to do. I have never been in a situation like this before.” <br><br>“Don’t worry about it. I’m giving you your gas for free.” <br><br>“Thank you,” he said. “That’s very kind. I am Lucifer. This is Lilith.” He gestured to the woman. <br><br>“Oh nice to meet you,” I said. “I’m Kevin.” <br><br>I rung up the coffee and breakfast sandwiches they bought, and gave it to them for free as well. They got back in their car and drove away. I never saw them again.