Fantasy Island and all associated characters are owned by Spelling-Goldberg Productions, Columbia Pictures Television, Sony Pictures Home Entertainment. Copyright infringement is not intended.

The Devil’s Due

By Rosemary

Burgess Meredith Phillips was piloting the plane to the island that fateful day. He had been one of the two pilots taking people to and from the island for several years now. This, however, was a different sort of passenger. Not only was it rare that only one passenger was aboard, but this woman was incredibly beautiful and sexy.

He hadn’t asked her name as she boarded the Grumman Widgeon. He wanted to, but as always, he hadn’t had the guts to do so. In fact, any sort of conversation was impossible, as he was completely dumbstruck by her.

In all fairness, however, he already knew the name of the young woman. She was Cherisse Howell; singer, dancer, and actress. She had it all, including, any man she wanted.

Whatever anyone thought of her morals, however, she was extremely talented.

He came in close to the island, as he always did, showing the paradise that was known as Fantasy Island. It was incredible. The lush vegetation, the black obsidiaon on the shores, and the beautiful waterfalls cascading off the cliffs.

Jess, as Captain Phillips was known, was looking forward to the next two weeks. He had paid a discounted price just for the time on the island, no fantasy involved. He had told Mr. Roarke that he hoped to finally be able to build up enough courage to speak to a woman and perhaps get to know her.

If this is any indication, that probably won’t happen, he reflected about the completely silent flight, as he lined up the plane to land in the lagoon. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to find anyone.

-=#=-

Mr. Roarke and his assistant, Tattoo, got out of their respective red vehicles and took up their regular spot where they always welcomed new arrivals.

“Smiles, Everyone! Smiles!” Mr. Roarke urged the throng of greeters, just as he always did.

“Who’s she, Boss?” Tattoo asked as an absolutely gorgeous woman exited the plane. She was wearing a pink dress that left little to the imagination up top. As she moved through the path from he plane, her walk was absolutely seductive -- Tattoo was completely in love.

“That is Ms. Cherisse Howell, Tattoo,” Mr. Roarke explained. “She was once an average person; absolutely nothing special. But then, she made a deal that gave her fame, and fortune. Everything she thought she would ever want. The deal is almost up, and before it is time to pay, she wishes to spend three days as her real self. She has found that her success is not what fulfills her, but has to pay the price.”

As Cherisse entered the open ground, a lei was placed around her neck, and a drink pushed into her hand. She glanced around, and was thrilled with the island. The lush flora around her was obviously well maintained. The groundskeeper here must be absolutely incredible, she thought.

She took a sip of the drink she’d been given, and was shocked. A Sea Breeze Cocktail! Her favorite drink for such an occasion! How would anyone here know? she wondered.

She looked to the tall, dignified, gray haired man in the white suit. Beside him was a cherubic man who seemed to be under four feet tall. The tall man had a drink, while the short one did not. The seemed to be conversing, but she couldn’t hear what was being said.

Suddenly, the tall man held up his drink. With a smile on his face, he proclaimed; “Ms. Howell; I am Mr. Roarke, your host. Welcome to Fantasy Island!”

-=#=-

It was a short time later that Ms. Howell met with Mr. Roarke in his office.

“Why do you wish to spend time as your old self? You have everything you’ve ever wished for,” the dignified man said.

“Really?” she scoffed, her voice raised. “You think so, Mr. Roarke?”

She sat down in the wicker chair across the desk from him, and even that movement, while she seemed frustrated and defeated, was somehow sexy. Mr. Roarke narrowed his eyes, studying her carefully.

“Do you know what Cherisse Howell means?” Her voice was still dripping with sarcasm. “It means Beloved Imminent. As if being wealthy and famous were the most important thing.”

“But surely when you made your deal, that’s what you thought.”

“Exactly, but I was wrong!” She spoke so vehemently that she had to stand and step toward his desk, as if to accentuate her speech.

“And who did you make your deal with, Ms. Howell.”

She looked downward in shame, and spoke so silently that he didn’t hear her. He didn’t need to. He’d researched everything, and knew, but he wanted to see how determined she really was.”

“I’m sorry, Ms. Howell. Can you speak louder?”

“Satan,” she finally managed, after two failed attempts.

He nodded. “I see. So you wish to be your real self, once more before he... claims you?” It was more of a statement than a question.

She didn’t try to speak again, but nodded, tears in her eyes.

He didn’t say anything, but stood waiting for her to finish her story. Finally, she looked up, pleading. “I used to be male, Mr. Roarke. I didn’t ask for this change, she said as she gestured at her body. My personality changed as well as my body.” She took a gasping breath before continuing. “I can’t help but dress in the sexiest clothes, and I always have to be as sexy and sultry as I can.” She paused, obviously reluctant to say any more. Finally, after another shuddering inhale; “And I can’t help but go to bed with anyone who wants to. It’s like being a whore is programmed into me.”

She shook her head, trying to clear it. “It’s got to be better than this, Mr. Roarke. I end up going to bed with people I’ve never met before, just because I can.” She pointed at her head. “Up here, I know it’s wrong, but here (she indicated the rest of her body), I can’t stop things.”

For a moment, Mr. Roarke thought she was about to cry, but she stopped herself.

“Me not liking who I was, drove me to this contract. What I didn’t realize was that it was who I should be.”

He seemed to consider, then finally said, “Very well.” He gestured behind him at a door on the wall behind him and on his left. “Walk through that door, and your fantasy will begin.”

She looked at the door in disbelief. It was that simple? Walk through the door and she would be George Purcell again?

She gave Mr. Roarke a questioning look. He gave a broad smile and gestured once more at the door.

She took a faltering step, not sure what would happen, and fearful that her wish wouldn’t be granted. But she sped up as she got close to the realization of her dream, until finally she was almost running in her four inch heels.

She opened the door wide, and looked through it. All she could see was a patio with an umbrella table sitting in the middle of it, around which several more wide backed wicker chairs sat. She looked once more at Mr. Roarke who was still smiling at her, his hands folded across his stomach as he looked reassuring. She turned back to the doorway and stepped through.

-=#=-

Jess Phillips looked around at the interior of his bungalow. It was comparatively as nice as his home in Honolulu, but here things were much quieter. To be fair, his house was on the hillside overlooking most of the city, but the sounds of the city always came up the hill to assail his ears. It wasn’t a megalopolis, but still had in excess of a million people in the municipality.

His fantasy, had he requested it, would have been to meet the woman of his dreams. He had felt a pull toward the woman on the plane, but he had been so afraid to blow it that he was unable to even speak to her beyond a shakey “Hello,” as she got on the plane. She had given him a sultry smile, but nothing beyond that.

He seriously hoped he could see her again and build up the courage to talk to her.

-=#=-

Cherise found herself in a bedroom, and it was decorated as if for a woman. She looked down at her body and found that she was still a woman. Looking around, she found that she liked the decor of the room, and started walking again.

She almost sprained her ankle as she took a step. She stopped and wondered, “What the heck?” She’d been wearing high heels for the last ten years. Nothing shorter than four inch, and almost all, spikes. She’d never had a problem with them in all that time.

The only time she didn’t wear heels was when she was playing a role for a movie that required she wear something else. Not that she took a role like that often. Usually, her roles had her as a classy lady all the time.

She took another step, very carefully, and was okay, but for the first time in a long time, she decided she didn’t need to be wearing heels and bent down to take them off.

She kicked the shoes toward the closet, and walked the rest of the way with no problem. In fact, she revelled in the fact that she was able to stretch her calves. The last time she wore flat shoes was for a movie that had her in casual clothes for much of the time, and she hated the feeling of not being dressed as sexy as she could be.

Looking in the closet, she found the clothes she’d brought to the island. There was very little. She’d assumed that she would be wearing men’s clothing for the duration, and what she’d brought of that wasn’t in evidence. There was a dress that she’d planned on wearing when she left the island, and it clearly said ‘slut’.

Alongside the one dress, were many more articles of clothing, that were incredibly more modest. She picked up a dress and admired it, but she really wanted some pants. She didn’t see any, but the sundress she was holding looked great when she held it up to herself.

Looking in the mirror, she decided something simply didn’t look right. It was her makeup! She pulled off what she was wearing, and went over to the vanity.

Her makeup was there, and she removed what she was wearing. She put on something much more subtle, then slipped on the dress. Returning to the closet, she found a pair of flats that would complement the dress and slipped her bear feet into them.

It felt incredible to have bare legs that the dress could caress. The last time she had worn a dress like this was in a movie. She had hated the feeling, but now... It was wonderful! She loved the feeling of being a woman who was more relaxed, but this wasn’t what she wanted. She wanted to be George Purcell!

She made her way out of the bedroom, into the rest of the bungalow. It was beautiful! The decor throughout the house was Victorian, which she had always loved, and distinctly feminine, which she found calming.

But it wasn’t what she’d wanted! She almost sat down to take in the feelings, and the beauty of the place, but she needed to talk to Mr. Roarke. Reluctantly, she left the bungalow, saw the main house not far away, and stormed toward it.

-=#=-

Jess sat down at an open air cafe. The cost of food and drink was included in the price of his vacation, so he had asked for, and received a bacon cheeseburger and fries. He looked around, and it seemed that most of the patrons were eating things more exotic. Oh well, he figured. Exotic food wasn’t really his fare, although he might try some later.

He saw the beautiful woman, Cherisse Howell, from the plane walk by. She looked very determined, and was walking very quickly toward the main house. He wondered if there was something wrong. If there was, he didn’t know which one he sympathised with more. Her or Mr. Roarke. Cherisse was said to have a terrible temper if she was crossed. But, Mr. Roarke had a very powerful personality, and he had never heard of anyone getting the best of him.

He watched as she stormed through the front door. He had seen Mr. Roarke leave the house earlier and leave the small town in one of his curious red vehicles, so he doubted that now was her time to complain.

As he suspected, she soon exited the house, and looked around. Spotting the cafe he was at, she walked over and asked for a fruit salad and some iced tea. Once she received it, she looked around for a place to sit. There was none, and he surprised himself by beckoning her over.

She seemed reluctant, but moved over and sat down. He didn’t know how to respond to the fact that she ws dressed much more conservatively than she had been on the plane. She wasn’t exuding sexiness as she had been before, but she seemed to be much more human. After she sat down, she seemed to relax almost immediately.

She held out her hand and introduced herself. “I’m Georgene Purcell, and you are?”

“I’m Burgess Meredith Phillips, although most of my friends call me Jess. I was the pilot of the plane that brought you here.”

“Yes, I remember... Jess.”

Their conversation flowed, and they talked together for over three hours. Until, she saw Mr. Roarke returning to his house.

She excused herself, and got up. She marched up to Mr. Roarke, who greeted her warmly.

“What is going on, Mr. Roarke?” she exploded when she stood toe to toe with the distinguished man. She felt ridiculous standing in front of him, yelling, but was known to have a temper and it definitely showed at the moment.

“I don’t understand,” Mr. Roarke told her.

“This is not what I paid for! I told you I wanted to be myself for this fantasy!”

“Perhaps we should go to my office and discuss this,” he said mildly.

“Why not talk here, so people will know how you screwed up?”

“Are you certain that I was the one who, as you crudely put it, screwed up?” he asked, raising one eyebrow.

“Well, I certainly didn’t,” she was more furious now than before, but kept her voice very quiet as she drew her five and a quarter feet up as high as she could. It was still no match for Mr. Roarke’s six feet even, but the posturing was not lost on the others around who were now watching them.

“Didn’t you,” he said quietly. Curiously, it was a statement of fact, rather than a question, as if he knew something she didn’t. Suddenly, he was quite animated. “You said, you wanted to be your, how did you put it in your letter? Oh yes. Own self. I have made you your true self. This is who you are.”

“I’m still...” She didn’t want to say the name aloud and have a mob on her hands. “Her!”

“No, Georgene. You are not. You have none of the compulsions you had as her.” He drew himself up to his full height. “As compensation for what you deem as an incorrect fulfillment of your fantasy, I give you the entire week, rather than three days. Until the contract with him is due. You see, I have limited ability in this situation. I can make you as you are, but I cannot make you as you were.”

“Why not?” she hissed.

“Certainly, you realize that I cannot break the contract you made with him.”

“Why didn’t you tell me that when I asked for my fantasy then?”

“I didn’t tell you that, because it made no difference to your fantasy.”

“It certainly did!”

He shook his head. “No, Georgene. It did not. Have you never wondered why you were so despondent before you made your deal? It had nothing to do with fame and fortune. It had everything to do with who you were.” He abruptly changed his demeanor again. “I will not speak of this anymore unless we reconvene in my office.” He paused. “For your sake.”

“I have no wish to talk to you anymore.”

“Very well, Miss Purcell. I hope we can meet again before we must deal with Mephistophiles.”

“We? I’ll handle it myself, thank you.”

He nodded his head slightly, and then she left. She saw Jess sitting at the table where she had left him, and rejoined him. He diplomatically didn’t inquire what the argument had been about, and they enjoyed each other’s company for the evening, even getting dinner later.

Jess tried some calimari, and Georgene decided to have something she hadn’t for many years; a bacon cheeseburger and fries.

-=#=-

The next day, Georgene made her way to Mr. Roarke’s office, but once again, he wasn’t there. She really wanted to ask him what he didn’t want to speak of, but alas...

She went over to the cafe, and enjoyed a breakfast of toast and mangos, which she always loved. She sat where she could see the main house when he arrived, but he surprised her by walking up behind her, and bidding her good morning.

She jumped at the sound of his voice, and spun around in her chair. With him was Jess. “Good morning, Georgene,” the pilot said to her.

“Mr. Roarke. Jess.”

“May we adjourn to my office, Miss Purcell?”

She was reluctant, but she stood. Mr. Roarke gestured for her to lead the way, and she headed toward the house. Jess stayed at the table and ordered a breakfast.

They entered the enigmatic man’s office, and Georgene sat down. She appeared antsy, and kept looking to the window. She couldn’t see Jess from where she sat, but the pull was strong.

“You seem interested in Mr. Phillips,” Roarke commented.

“I think that’s my business, Mr. Roarke,” she told him in no uncertain terms.

“Yes, it is, but as the owner of this island and the one charged to fulfill your fantasy, it is my business as well.”

She had turned back to the window, but at his words, her head snapped around. She stared at him, uncertain how to respond. Finally, she said, “It seems I was the one charged.”

He smiled. “Oh certainly you were charged. My meaning, however, had nothing to do with money. You put me in charge of fulfilling your fantasy. I mean to do just that.”

“But...” she began.

“Ms. Purcell. Let us cease dancing around the obvious. Before you entered into that contract, you were transgender. If you look deeply into your heart, you will see that is true. Right now, you are displaying an interest in Mr. Phillips. While you have female hormones in your body, your personality... your essence... is back to normal.” He took on an air of seriousness. “You have accused me of not fulfilling your fantasy, yet in actuality, I have, just as you requested. You are now more yourself than you have ever been.”

She thought of how she felt before her foolish request to Satan. Then, how she felt when she realized she had become female. There was a moment of panic at her change, but when she realized she acted as if she had always been female, the panic was replaced with euphoria – until she found that her compulsions were of a seductive nymphomaniac. She would bed any man, no matter who he was – it disgusted her, but she couldn’t stop.

“When you signed the contract, was there any mention of extreme seduction. Of nymphomania?”

The question threw her for a moment, then shamefacedly, she admitted. “I didn’t see any, but I didn’t read the contract as carefully as I should have.”

“I agree, but it would have made no difference if you had.” He reached into the top drawer of his desk and pulled out a familiar legal document. “I have here, the contract that you signed with the devil.” At her shocked face, he told her, “I assure you it is truly the contract you were given.” He continued, reprimanding her. “You need to take care what you sign, young lady. The contract I had you sign gave my assistant, Tattoo, your power of attorney. Specifically to open your safe deposit box.”

“But I...” She was aghast, but realized he was right. She hadn’t read that contract through either. “You said it wouldn’t have made any difference had I read my contract with Satan through?”

“No. The seductive traits and nymphomania were not mentioned. However, Satan assumed complete power over your actions. In essence, he took possession. Such is the nature of his contracts with people.”

“You seem to know a lot of how he operates,” Georgene commented. “Perhaps you can explain why he made me female if I was transgender anyway. That seems as though it would defeat his purpose.”

He seemed to weigh her strength with his eyes, then told her, “Contracts with him are non-binding. So much of what he promises is lie. Oh, he uses truth, certainly, but he twists it – doesn’t explain it.”

“So why?”

“Because he didn’t want you to realize that he was not fulfilling the contract. You had to believe that the depression was gone so he could take possession of you.”

“Wait... you said the contract isn’t binding!”

“No. It isn’t. It is full of lies. He promised you happiness until the end. He did not fulfill his part of the agreement.” He looked out the window, and smiled. “And now, my dear, a young man is waiting for you at the cafe. He certainly has tenacity.”

She stood and held out her hand as if to shake his. Instead, he took her hand, turned it, and gracefully kissed it. Then he gave her a stiff bow. “I told you that I would allow you the full week. I will keep my promise, and at the end of that week, we will meet with Mephistopheles – together.”

With a light heart, she made her way to the cafe, where Jess was waiting. At her approach, he stood and when she arrived, took her outstretched hand, and he too showed his gentle-manliness by kissing it.

They both sat and enjoyed each other’s company for the rest of the day.

-=#=-

The next day, Jess and Georgene packed up a picnic basket and made their way to the top of a volcano that they were assured was extinct It was very similar to the volcanos in Hawaii, and had a deep crater behind them, but they were more interested in the view of the populated area of the island spread out in front of them. Surprisingly, there wasn’t a lot of it that could be seen. Again, the groundskeeper appeared to have done a remarkable job in camoflaging the buildings. Much of the area that they knew to be populated appeared to be virgin ground, where nobody had ever set foot.

After they ate their meal, Georgene moved over to Jess and leaned against him with her head on his chest. After awhile, she asked him, “What was your fantasy?”

He chuckled a bit and then explained. “I’m one of the two pilots who fly people to the island. Mr. Roarke allowed me to come here, simply on vacation. I get a week. I almost asked for a fantasy, but It wasn’t really something I could afford.

“What would your fantasy have been?” Georgene asked.

Again, he chuckled. “To meet the woman of my dreams. I’ve never been good with women.”

“It seems to me you’re doing okay,” she told him. “By the way. Georgene is kind of an out-of-date name. Could you call me Gina from now on?”

“I think that’s very fitting, Gina,” he replied, then he gently touched her chin and lifted her face so he could kiss her.

His kiss shocked her. It felt like an incredibly powerful shock. Almost like she imagined being struck by lightning would be.

The rest of the week, Gina and Jess spent every moment in each other’s company, until the day Gina’s future would be decided.

-=#=-

At the stroke of midnight, Mephistopheles appeared in Mr. Roarke’s office. Gina was seated facing the island’s owner, fidgeting, while the gentleman was behind his desk, looking over the contract one last time.

“How touching,” the devil said as he saw what Mr. Roarke was doing. “Trying to find a way out of the contract? I assure you that it’s airtight.”

“Oh?” Mr. Roarke said. “I don’t see it that way.”

Mephistopheles gave an evil grin. “I assure you, Roarke. This one is airtight.”

“Oh, it would be airtight, had you done your part, but we both know; you didn’t.”

The grin faded from Satan’s face, and a look of rage assumed its place. “Are you accusing me of lying?”

Roarke laughed in derision, then his face took on a grim countenance. “You never learn, Mephistopheles. You never learn. Of course I am. And you know you did.”

“I followed the contact as written!”

“No. You did not. You included the phrase, ‘fame and fortune to give the client happiness for the duration of the contract.’”

“I gave her fame and fortune to give her happiness. That she wasn’t happy was not my fault! She could have been happy!”

“You took the very thing you knew would have given happiness to her, and turned it into something evil for her. It disgusted her.”

“That isn’t my fault!”

“Yes. It is. What you refuse to aknowledge is that you lie, and omit part of the truth in each of your contracts, which renders each one useless. She has recognized this, and she orders you to be gone.”

“I don’t take orders from her, or from you, Roarke.” He spat out the last phrase.

“Shall we call someone whose orders you will take?”

Suddenly, the angry visage of Satan showed fear. He started to fade, and as he did so, he intoned, in a booming voice, “Very well. But do not play with me, Roarke. You have succeeded here, but never again. I will defeat you!” And then, he was gone.

Mr. Roarke stared at where he had stood for a long moment, then said, “That too, is a lie.”

-=#=-

It was time for Gina to leave the island. The red car picked her up at her bungalow, and she reluctantly got in. At Mephistophiles’ disappearance from Mr. Roarke’s office, she had reverted to being male. Thankfully, the clothes she had been wearing were able to stretch enough for her new frame.

She definitely didn’t want Jess to see her, however. She looked very different than who she’d been throughout the week. She was sorry that she’d be leaving without saying goodbye, but it was probably for the best.

-=#=-

She arrived at the dock, looking different than how she had during the week, but still feminine. She walked up to Mr. Roarke. “I want to thank you, Mr. Roarke. I wouldn’t have had the guts to face up to him on my own,” she said, referring to Satan. “I would have believed him when he said the contract was airtight.”

“Never believe anything he says, Ms. Purcell. He says nothing but half truths and lies. He passes himself off as an Angel of Light, but that not in his being. He has no soul as you do – no love of others. You must learn to trust what is true and right.”

She smiled, and Mr. Roarke saw that when she did, her face as beautiful as it had been as Cherisse Howell. She looked positively radiant. “Thank you for everything,” she said as she turned toward where the plane sat.

She walked up to the open door and stepped inside. Suddenly, Mr. Roarke heard an exclamation from inside. “Jess!”

Mr. Roarke smiled as he turned toward his topless station wagon. He could faintly hear the conversation from inside the plane as he sat down. He held up his hand to keep his driver from starting the engine.

“There’s an empty seat beside me, Gina,” he heard the pilot say.

There wasn’t any reply, but he saw Gina move forward in the plane and take a seat beside the pilot. Her pilot.

The door to the plane shut, and he couldn’t hear any more.

Oh well. He had an idea what the flight back to Hawaii would be like. Before the meeting with the devil, he had met with Jess. He had explained about Gina. Who she was, and what was about to happen.

As soon as he realized that Gina’s fantasy was over, Jess decided to spend the rest of his vacation in Hawaii, where he knew Gina would take more time recovering from Cherisse.

“She will need confirmation that she is, indeed, a woman,” Mr. Roarke told him. “An exquisite woman, who can be loved. Whether you fill the role of the one who loves her, is up to you. I think you will make the right choice, though. You’re a man of honor, and loyalty. You see people for what they are.”

Jess had nodded his agreement.

Mr. Roarke suspected that he hadn’t seen the last of Gina Purcell. Well, perhaps he had. He might see Gina Phillips in the future, however.