Devastation leaks into the very essence of my being as the waters invade my most private quarters. Severed limbs float around my body, down the street, and away to oblivion.

“Damn that aerial succubus! She only gave birth to devastation. She took away those that I protected. A watery grave scarcely does justice for the earth dwellers.”

“Why don’t you do something about it?”

“You…I have nothing to say to you.”

Taking a moment to savor a delicious chuckle, “I could have taken them by fire, but He intervened. You may stand through this, but an inferno of my wrath would have turned you into the ashes of memory.”

“You’re just here to taunt me. Go away! Go away! Go away!”

“Perhaps, but I am also here to make you an offer.”

“There’s nothing you can offer me. I’m not like them.”

“What if you could be?”

“What?”

“Like them.”

There was a long pause and Mephistopheles knew he had his undivided attention. Carefully hiding a triumphant smile he softly stroked the side of the house, pressing his cheek against the moist exterior. He carefully floated above the floodwaters. “Yes,” he said smoothly, “like them. Just like the family that you cared for and who cared for you…a human. I could do that for you.”

“I’m a house. I have no soul that you could possibly want. I remember the family talking about you.”

“No soul?” Mephistopheles chuckled. “If that is true, then how am I able to communicate with you?”

The house was silent, save for water sloshing about its interior, a sordid reminder of the stained, baptismal floodwaters. After a few moments the house said, “I’m hallucinating.”

Mephistopheles laughed heartily. “Master Lucifer did not tell me that you had a sense of humor.”

“Enough! State what you want.”

Mephistopheles skin-soft demeanor hardened to a callous. “Your soul. Master Lucifer is ever expanding his empire and desires buildings, under his command, for underlings and demons alike. Only the strong houses, one standing through adversity will survive in Hell.”

If houses could stare, this particular house would be doing just that.

Mephistopheles continued, “in order to secure your position we need to turn you into a human to properly claim your soul.”

“That’s impossible.”

“No, actually it’s not. God created Man and God created the Garden of Eden. Master Lucifer hid in the safe bosom of the Tree of Knowledge, lamenting the tree’s vast intelligence, but its lack to ever use such. However, even trees spawn offspring to conserve their memory and it just so happens that many of those trees are made into houses like you.”

“Let’s suppose I refuse this offer and-”

“Should you refuse, you will lie eternally forsaken within the muck of this town. God has no place for houses when he has an entire kingdom in heaven. Mud will cling to your innards and looters will rob you of your dear family treasures. Loved ones will blame you for not protecting your family because you were not built strong enough to stand against the tempest. The family wanted to stay in their beloved home. In the end, you will be destroyed, piece by pitiful piece, not even a grave for those who have fallen. If any part of you lingers, it will bewail your downfall as you are replaced.”

“You really are from Hell…”

“Do we have an accord?”

“All right,” the house said, “but I don’t know if I’ll make a good human.”

“You’ll make a fine flood victim,” Mephistopheles said.

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Author's Note: This works as a short story better. Originally I had it slightly longer, but I cut it down because another project came up and I was unsure on whether to continue it. The idea came to me one day and I raced to write it down (that and a bit of Trans-siberian Orchestra's Beethoven's Last Night inspired me).