"How would you like to wrestle again?" the red-skinned creature asked. To say that this question had shocked Beowulf would be a massive understatement. Before he could answer the creature's question, he had a question of his own.
"Why? Why would you want me to wrestle again?" Beowulf asked.
"Why? Because it's the entire reason I brought you down here," the creature answered.
"What do you mean you brought me down here?" Beowulf asked.
"Hold on. I've got something to show you," the red-skinned creature said. The creature opened a cabinet under the desk and kept going through rows of papers.
"Ah, there it is." The red-skinned creature brought up a white paper with some words and a handprint next to it. "Let's go for a walk down memory lane. Remember when you first started at the W.W.U., and you just couldn't stop getting your bottom handed to you?"
"I mean… I wouldn't put it like that, but yeah," Beowulf answered.
"Well, I would. You were the laughingstock. No one took you seriously. All your matches were only fun to watch because wrestlers would embarrass the hell out of you before beating you," the creature said.
Beowulf remembered all of what the creature had mentioned. It was a hard time in his life, and he didn't like to look back on it. "What are you, a fan?" Beowulf asked.
"You could say that," the creature answered. "After all, I've been watching you since the very beginning."
"Do you also remember one day at the training facility of the W.W.U.? You were flipping some gigantic tires, and you met a dashing man who said he could make you a better wrestler in exchange for your soul."
That was an odd question. "No, I don't…" Beowulf stopped mid-sentence. He DID remember that day. He had met a man who looked like a crooked salesman offering to help him become a better wrestler. When the man said he wanted Beowulf's soul in return, Beowulf thought the man was referring to a life contract that would make him Beowulf's personal trainer.
The man offering the deal looked crooked from top to bottom, but Beowulf was desperate. He shook the man's hand and never heard from him again.
"Yeah. Yeah, I do. Never heard or saw him again after that day. Calling him dashing seems too generous. If I remember correctly, his looks were beneath average," Beowulf said.
The creature frowned at Beowulf. "Did I say something to offend him?" Beowulf thought. The red-skinned creature cleared his throat.
"As it just so happens, I was that dashing man," the red-skinned creature said.
A tornado of flames surrounded the creature and quickly disappeared, revealing a man—a human with not-too-attractive features. "I'm guessing you're pretty shocked. This is quite the twist, isn't it?"
Beowulf didn't say anything and had a blank expression. Sure, it was kinda cool how the creature managed to turn himself into a human, but Beowulf had no idea if this was the same man who had approached him all those years ago.
Beowulf had only met him for a few moments. That wasn't enough time to register someone's face in his memory. Although his face did look unattractive, like the man he had met.
"Wait a second," Beowulf said, realizing something. "When I shook your hand, you're telling me that's the reason I'm in hell?"
"Right-O," the red-skinned creature replied.
"That's insane!" Beowulf exclaimed.
"Insane? How do you think you got better at wrestling?" the red-skinned creature asked.
"Because I worked really hard and never gave up on my dream of being the top wrestler at the W.W.U.," Beowulf answered.
Hearing this, the creature burst into laughter.
"Do you… do you have any idea how you sound?" the red-skinned creature asked, mocking Beowulf. "I'll tell you. You sound like one of those anime protagonists I keep hearing about."
The creature wiped a small tear from his eye. "No. You got better because of the deal we made." The red-skinned creature showed Beowulf his left palm, and a downward pentagram symbol that looked to be made of flames appeared.
"Hell magic. This thing can do a lot of crazy stuff. Make a hot girl fall madly in love with you. Make some loser who doesn't know the first thing about politics into president. And it can make the worst wrestler in the W.W.U. into one of its best."
Beowulf glared at the red-skinned creature after hearing the last example.
"Look, there's been some kind of mistake. I didn't know what I was getting into. You were super vague," Beowulf said.
"What's vague about selling your soul in exchange for making you a better wrestler?" the red-skinned creature asked. "I made the deal crystal clear to you."
"No, you didn't, and you know it!" Beowulf exclaimed. "Maybe if you had given me a contract to sign, I would have known what the deal really was."
"A handshake IS a contract," the red-skinned creature said. "It's the oldest type of contract in hell, and we demons respect it."
"That's bullshit!" Beowulf exclaimed. "You're telling me that a handshake was the only way you could have made that deal? Really?"
"I mean… I could have also sealed the deal with a kiss, but you don't look like you swing that way," the red-skinned creature answered.
Beowulf wanted to say something but couldn't. He knew that arguing wouldn't get him out of hell. This realization made him depressed, causing him to slump in his chair and bow his head.
"Oh, come on now. Don't be Mr. Grumpy. Remember when I brought you here? I want you to wrestle again. Sure, you're in hell, but when you were on Earth, you had a blast wrestling, didn't you? It's all because of the deal we made. Now I want you to have that very experience here. So, what do you say? Wanna wrestle again?" the red-skinned creature finished.
Beowulf slowly raised his head to look at the creature. "Fine," Beowulf said.
The red-skinned creature grinned. "Great. Let's prepare you for your first match."