My Soul

If you had sold your soul to the Devil how would you live your life? What would you expect?

I had been having trouble sleeping that night. I tossed and turned until the digital clock by my bedside read 4:30 in those glaring uniform numbers. Thats when he came for me.

I don't remember waking up or falling asleep or anything of the sort. I know that it wasn't a dream. I could feel the heat in the room and I looked around to face it. He doesn't have a tail, or the feet of a goat. His skin isn't red, he doesn't have horns or even a moustache. He just looks like a man, with tanned and weathered skin like leather, dark eyes and black hair. And yet there was something demonic in his features. They were too perfect, too symmetrical and exagerated. I knew who it was from the moment I saw him.

"Hello there, I apologize for waking you."

His voice echoed as though the voices of a thousand trapped souls were repeating his words ontop of his own silky voice. I should have been afraid, but I wasn't. I knew I had sinned, in a way I expected this to happen.

"Thats fine, you didn't wake me."

"Can't sleep I take it? Guilty conscience?"

"You know I can't sleep and moreover you know exactly why, now cut to the chase."

Like I say, I knew it was coming. Only one question remained, what exactly did he want? I should have been afraid, I know that. I should have been a lot of things. But I'm not.

He sat at the end of my bed, I could see the air above him shimmer. The heat on my face reminded me of the warm holidays we would have in the villas, often we would go from Spain to Greece to Moroco over the course of a trip.  I missed that wealth more than anything and he knew it.

"I'm here to make a deal with you. I can see it in your eyes, I see it in your actions. You want money don't you? Money and power, that's all. I know you don't care about the means. I envy your lack of conscience."

"Coming from you that really is something."

"I can get it for you, I'll help you in all that you do. None of it will bite you back, you'll have power, and wealth through whatever means you wish and I know which ones they are. Just promise me one thing..."

"Oh here we go! It was sounding so good!" I figured whilst he was speaking it sounded too good to be true.

"Become a demon, help me rule Hell."

"I was expecting more build up, and what kind of job description was that?"

He had until now remained nigh-on stationary, just looking through me with piercing black eyes, but now he threw back his head and laughed. It was an eerie sound that shouldn't have sounded so full of mirth. For a moment he wasn't the ruler of the underworld, he was just a man. Just some guy sat at the end of my bed laughing his socks off. I realized looking at him now that he was wearing jeans. Jeans? Really? He turned back to face me, wiping genuine laughter from his eyes.

"Ok, so drumroll please!"

I obliged, drumming my hands on my bedside cabinet.

"Right, I give you all the support you need in your money making plans, I protect you from the law, I make you rich and I get you the power to stay that way. But; when you die, You join me in Hell as a demon."

"Ok, what would that imply?"

"General day-to-day running, helping me to torture some lost souls, all that jazz."

And so, thinking for a second, I nodded my head. What had I to lose? He smiled and bid me a good night before fading into the air. I looked back to my clock. 4:45. I hadn't been sleeping. But I was ok, the Devil had my soul, but I would have back what I had always needed.

I nestled down into my thin polyester sheet, I realised I could sleep without problem now. Good, because when I dream these polyester sheets are once more stuffed with feathers.

The End

23 comments about this story Feed