Mephistopheles was a rather smart demon, a demon who could only be tricked by a few select people.

When one tricks a demon, they earn the wrath of hell.

Mephistopheles had many servents, many hunters and many souls under his belt. His prized one was a creature called the Ghost Rider.

An angel tortured into insanity to become the angel of vengance.

Speaking of which.

"Harley." Mephistopheles greeted. He did not turn to greet his most prized hunter.

'Harley' said nothing as he forced himself to bow, the chains along his wrists barely making a sound. Mephistopheles chuckled, turning his head slightly to stare at the skeleton.

"Do not be like that. You are going to an old friend of mine," Mephistopheles murmered when Harley nodded. "You cannot disobey him as he will destroy our deal."

Harley stood up, his hand on his chest where his heart would've been. "Yes, sir."

Mephistopheles laughed as he slammed his cane onto the ground, lifting a leg towards Harley. A dark grin overcame his face, his foot meeting Harley's chest after a whirlpool like mist appeared behind the skeleton.

"Do not fuck up." Mephistopheles threatened as Harley was kicked into the mist. He grinned even more at the sight of a bag being thrown after the skeleton.

Mephistopheles turned to see Death herself with a scowl. "How dare you kick the poor boy in without even giving him some supplies."

Mephistopheles rolled his eyes at her hatred of him.

"Oh go fuck Deadpool." He replied, swinging his cane as he walked away.

Death frowned at him, lifting a hand to her ear. "Shinigami, you best keep an eye on Harley. He is a tight ship to sail."

A chuckle was her reply.

---

Harley landed harshly on the ground, a bag launching into his stomach. If he had lungs, he would've hissed as the weight of the bag would have crushed the air out of them.

"I see you made it."

Harley turned his head to greet a looming shadow that was coloured a dull purple. "Shinigami."

The shadow seemed to cringe.

"I forget that you are apart of a completely different culture," It murmured. It floated down to Harley's face. "We have a few thousand years to work on that. Your first targets are in the bag but the 'storyline', as one from your old life would've called it, will start in the warring years that have started. You will be needed in two thousand and twelve years."

The shadow snapped it's fingers, Harley's flames disapearing. Harley sat up, now will long, ginger hair that needed to be cut. He could not tell his own eye colour just yet.

"All clothing that you wear will be of my choosing, showing your allegiance to me. Basically, purple, black and a very dark blue."

"Thank you." Harley said as he stood up, slipping the bag over his shoulder. He was about to leave when the shadow stopped him.

"Hold it," It snapped. "You will be needing a way of communication to me-" A scroll was forced into Harley's hand. "And a way of transportation." A tree nearby cracked and fell over.

The tree split in half straight down the middle and revealed a wooden horse that looked to lifelike.

"It will not catch on fire when you return to your ghost state. The scroll, you merely have to open it and it will reveal your tasks." The shadow began to disapear.

Harley nodded as he bowed. His eyes stayed on the wooden horse, watching as it began to grow skin and fur. It managed to freak him out.

"Goodluck."