Who even knew the Devil existed? I consider myself religiously impartial, because I don’t believe in anything but I don’t rule anything out. I figure I have better chances that way.
Unfortunately for me, the Devil has definite religious views of his own.

Everyone thinks that demons from hell appear in flashes of light and bursts of fire and brimstone, but the Devil just kind of snuck up behind me. For some reason, I never doubted that the being in my room was the devil, despite the lack of a tail or cloven hooves. In fact, except for a mighty pair of ram horns, he didn’t look demonic at all. He looked like a normal, scraggly teenage boy, wearing Vans that I envied with a passion.

After my initial freak-out, our first conversation went something like this:
“What’s your name?”
“Kali,” I stuttered.
“Kali? Like that Hindu goddess of destruction?”
“She’s a lot more complex than that, you know.” I couldn’t help but correct him—I’m a mythology buff. It’s what happens when your techno-hippie mom names you after an obscure deity.
“Mmmm… Do I? Whatever, I don’t like gods and goddesses anyway.”
“Why is that, by the way? I mean, why did you fight with God?” This question was asked because I was curious. It’s a question everyone wants to know the answer to, right? There are so many theories, and I wanted the Devil’s view on the whole thing. In my opinion, God gets way too much screen-time for his own good.
“He couldn’t accept my religious view.”
“Which is?” He seemed bored rather than annoyed, so I decided to press.
“Atheism.”
“What?! You had God in front of you, and you decided to be Atheist? Are you an idiot?” The words burst out of my mouth. I had no control over them, I swear.
“No, just clever. They’re often perceived to be the same thing.”