Book 2 - Part 4: Binding Evil - Chapter Ten
Monday Morning – September 10th
Twenty-Second Precinct – 9:30 a.m.
Baker sat at her desk going over all her notes and suggestions handed her from her team, ideas for the president’s arrival. Each one held promise, and she knew she might be able to implement practically every idea within her layout.
Thus, the next two hours would be spent at her desk, typing up her plan into the computer then printing it off. In doing so, she took sections of the area around the Arena, and broke them down into a five-point star. A radius of two to six blocks out. It was obvious to everyone, the inner circle, or the primary block would be crawling with Fibbies, as well as the SS (that sounded ever so wrong in her head).
Intertwining the separate images with each part of the plan, and by 10:45 she had the outlined finished and ready to take to the meeting. Twenty-seven pages.
As she was on her way out the door, her cell phone rang, and saw where the call came from.
“Stevie?”
“Nope. Try again.”
“Hi, Ed. I take it you took today off.”
“Not really. I did stop by for a quick lunch, but I wanted to let you know Stevie has practice tonight. I’ll pick him up afterward. All I know is that he has schedules and plays to learn.”
She laughed.
“Let him know I’ll be there tonight. I’m on my way to the meeting now.”
“Can do. Will do.”
With paperwork under her arm in a folder, she was in the car park and behind the steering wheel of her car, when another officer called out her name, and as she turned her head in the direction of the voice, the driver’s side window shattered.
Both her and the officer took cover, with Baker managing to roll under her car and her service revolver in hand. Each one scanned the area with their eyes and saw nothing or no one moving.
The officer, Al Martin, radioed it in, and within seconds, another dozen blue uniforms were entrenched in the lot. Faster still, another unit of twelve men, that raced to different
buildings in two-man teams with exits fully covered. This had been part of a new plan put in place in the event of snipers since what happened several months ago. The “Ready Plan” could be set up and in place within two minutes depending on location, eight minutes’ maximum, making it virtually impossible for any shooter to escape.
There should have been no way a shooter could have gotten away that quickly.
Getting out from under her car, Baker scanned the area once again and then looked at the damage done to it. She did a low whistle.
At least they did have one piece of evidence that left a gaping hole through the front seat and imbedded in the back seat. One slug, measuring 1.25 inches and weighing roughly three ounces.
It would later be identified as a .451 Magnum-Plus.
Al Martin came up to Baker and handed her a message.
The first thing she did was thank him for distracting her. He saved her life. Then she read the note. It was from Carl.
Prelim on Sollie. He didn’t die because of his injuries. Neck was snapped. He was murdered. No fingerprints either.
And I almost was, she thought.
As it stood, she called and asked to have the meeting rescheduled for Wednesday. No problem.
She had her car towed to a repair shop for new seats and windshield and had one of the officer’s take her home for the day. She decided it would allow her extra time to go over the plan and tweak it if necessary. On the way, she called Ed, explained what happened, and asked if he could pick her up at the house so that she could see the game with Stevie being one of the coaches.
10:49 a.m.
Dammit, she muttered. I had her. I know I had her! What caused her to turn at the last second?
She looked angrily at Ronald.
“That wasn’t my fault. She moved at the last possible second. Otherwise, she was dead!”
“The thing is, Alexandria,” he said in a toneless way, “when you are sighting in to hit a target, you only get one chance from this distance to connect.
“Had you been in one of those buildings nearby, you would be in jail by now. That is the beauty of the Spencer. When the shot is fired, they will look where you aren’t.
“And it is just as well you missed. I don’t know who that was, nor do I care, but I have decided one thing. Your shooting range is best at 1,500 to 2,000 yards. It’s from that range, I will find a location for you to fire from when the time comes.”
Baker’s Townhouse - 9:58 p.m.
“Ed, in all my years, I have never seen a slug like that before that could do the damage it did. Puts me in mind of bullets used for hunting elephants. If that damn thing had connected with my head, it wouldn’t be here to tell you all this.”
“I hate to agree, but after I saw the extent of the damage as well that it did to the interior, it could have probably taken out three heads.
“You don’t suppose it was Freddy, do you?”
“No. This isn’t his style. Besides, he’s still in Europe some damn where fine-tuning his craft. I spend a few minutes online during the week to check his progress based on the name the media over there gave him. So far, he’s left a nice trail of dead bodies behind him. Some kills were professional people, others just ordinary people trying to make a living, or so it would seem. No, this isn’t him.
“But whoever fired that bullet did it from more than a couple hundred feet away. How else could he get away so ….”
“Or she,” Ed threw in.
“… or she, escape so quickly. Unreal. Want to know something else, Ed?
“What’s that.”
“I might have been target practice for something much bigger and better.”
“The president, maybe?”
“Ditto.”
“At least the night ended well. I got to see my boy in action. He called what, about fourteen plays, huh?”
“That he did. The game coming up to start the home season Friday night will tell the tale, but at least they won their first one.”
“Like you said, at least they won, and I’d like to think Stevie had a little something to do with it. I guess I will have to start going to more games to get a handle on this now that Stevie’s involved.”
They snuggled together on the couch, with Ed holding her tightly as they both fell asleep.
Baker’s Townhouse – 10:17 a.m.
Tuesday – September 11th
Taking Ed’s suggestion, Baker took a paid sick day and stayed home. It allowed her some quiet time to fine tune the plan she would submit tomorrow. Satchell had called to let her know the repair bill on her car would be taken care of by the city. It was one of the few good perks that come with being a cop. It also meant Baker would have her car back as good as new by the end of the day. Another perk. Priority.
With Ed taking on her duties for the day, and with Stevie in school, and later at his therapy class, she was enjoying the quiet. It allowed her to put the package she labeled ‘President’s protection,’ into a more concise and simplistic order.
While she was touching up page nine, and enjoying a cup of hot green tea, her cell phone rang. Looking at it, she saw the number: 42. Carl.
“Hey, Carl. What have you got for me.”
“Hey, JB. I have to tell you; this is the damndest thing. First off, the slug is a .451 Magnum-Plus. Specially made for the Spencer Rifle that was remade from the early days of the Old West.
“It looks and feels like the original, except it’s been modified to take a full magazine clip of twenty rounds, and the bore has a spiral inside, which when fired, actually causes the bullet to turn at a high rate of speed and practically demolish anything in its path within a maximum range of 4,500 yards, with the best range being 1,500.”
“Wait. 4,500 yards? With a Spencer carbine. That’s impossible.”
“Like I said, JB, it looks like the original Spencer, but the mechanics are far different after that. First off, it has a firing range like I explained. The damage from that distance is guess work. But if I were a sniper; ideal range, 1,500 to 2,000 yards. Shoot a man, unseen from anywhere and be gone before you know it. It also has a zoom sight, so it can narrow in on its target a hundred times better than a normal sight.”
“Thanks, Carl. Anything else?”
“Actually, yes. We have a partial print on the slug we retrieved from your car. Whoever fired that shot wasn’t too worried about how they loaded their weapon. Once I can locate an Ident, I’ll let you know first thing.”
“Okay, that’s good news at least. Thanks again, Carl.”
“Just be careful, JB. Last thing we need is you in the hospital on your wedding day.”
After she hung up, she thought to herself: or in the city morgue either.
Trigger Warning* of sexual violence* The Aftermath
I think I have grown until I am confronted in all the ways my rapist has created a stagnant 16 year old in me. A woman too scared to say anything that would bring disapproval to their eyes. I think I can have a fling until I am again confronted with all the ways I am not equipped for the aftermath. Myself. I wanted it until at moments I didn’t. I didn’t like that he choked me -at certain points it was too hard. Why didn’t I say anything? Because inwardly I was freaking out. Sometimes he went too hard. He didn’t try to build it up, he just tried to create it in a day.
I think I am better at navigating relationships but the passionate woman in me and the survivor are at odds it seems. Both should have a voice, but I do not know how to let them share the stage.
I wish I had said, “Don’t do that. Too hard, please be more gentle.” Instead I stayed silent.
And the gears start to click and grind and the old warped/ thinking begins to enter into my mind once again.
"Maybe this is all you deserve..."
And I go to sleep thinking of all the ways I have failed only to wake up and remember that the nightmare was real and the only monster in my mind is... me.
Virelai, Your New Favorite Meal, and Reverb with an Epidemic Noted...
Hello, Writers and Dear Readers.
In today's vid on the channel, we look at two user challenges, some damn good writing, and the accidental death of a recent video. Oh, and if you're going to record without headphones in frame, uplug them. An old dog learned a new trick for next time. Anyway: Here's the link.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-StiZEFTtEk
And.
As always........
Thank you for being here.
-The Prose. team
DBTBW: Into the Jungle
There were four of us. I was the only woman in the group and I was there to support my boyfriend, who simply loved to explore. He and I rode together in one truck with an older man who was a professor trying to further his research. All three of us were led by a man in a second truck who knew the wilderness better than all three of us combined. Wilderness man was the largest of the men and sported red, untamed facial hair.
We followed wilderness man as he drove through a narrow path in the woods. It wasn't a paved road, but we trusted he knew where he was going. Others had tried the same path, so while it wasn't paved, it had been traveled before. Funds were apparently limited because aside from our phones, which didn't get any reception in the area, we only had a one-way monitor radio (like a baby monitor).
For the duration of the ride, the receiver was with us while the transmitter was with wilderness man. It got dark fast and we were driving even faster. I was behind the wheel. We couldn't see a thing anymore and surrounded by trees, I was afraid we would hit something, but wilderness man didn't show any signs of slowing.
The transmissions coming through the radio were disturbing. We couldn't tell what was happening on the other side, but we could hear the rustling and bumps indicative of this man's speeding through the woods. He was saying something, but we couldn't make it out through all the other noises. It was pitch black. I tried the lights on the truck and the high beams, but none of it worked. At best, the light reflected back at us, further blinding me from what might be ahead in the road.
Eventually, it was clear that wilderness man was too far for the radio to pick up his transmission. We'd last heard him yell something, as if at someone or something on the road other than us. I let up on the gas, afraid I would hit a tree or a ditch, or worse. As the truck slowed, I turned right instinctively and as we came to a near stop, I picked up speed again.
As fast as it had gotten dark, the light started coming through again and we could see the tree line again. While the men in the vehicle with me had expressed some doubt about my decision to make a turn in the dark, they now gave each other pleasantly surprised looks, as if I'd earned my place among them.
As it got brighter, we arrived at a swamp-like location and passed many parked trucks, not much unlike ours. The transmission started coming through again and we could hear wilderness man saying we made it to our destination. We saw him in the distance and I followed again until we made it to an old house in the woods where our exploration was set to begin, but not without first taking note of all the empty vehicles, the emptiness of the place in spite of that, and a single old woman dressed in a white gown walking around with the receiver side of a radio much like ours. She talked to the radio even though it had nothing to say in response and the men in the group seemed to pay her no mind. I was concerned, but feared losing my newly earned place among them if I said anything, so I pretended I didn't see her just like they did.
We got to the house and rested that night. The professor and wilderness man each got their own rooms while my boyfriend and I got a room together. In the morning, I slipped out early with a lame excuse and I won't tell you what I did because you'll find out soon enough.
By 10am, we'd had breakfast and were off exploring on foot. We didn't go very far, but we did run into the old woman again. No one said a word about her again, but my concern grew when I saw her in the same clothes and with the same demeanor as the night before. Something seemed different about the place, but aside from the time of day, I couldn't quite figure out what it was. Wilderness man went one way and we went another with the professor. We started with the area around the house. There were puddles of dark yellow-brownish water everywhere and we avoided them because we were far from civilization and this place had a bad rap for people disappearing.
We noticed there was a back part to the property that had largely succumbed to the elements. The roof was gone and it was mainly skeletal remains of the back of the building. I followed the professor in through an opening. He was following my boyfriend against my meek protests of concern.
We walked around to the front of the house where our rooms were and back. We split off in the house and that's when I noticed that water was seeping into the house through the back. The professor walked in to see the same and I asked him if we should be concerned. He agreed and we both went off to look for my boyfriend, who found himself in another room that was also slowly flooding, but he wouldn't respond when we called him. I walked to the back again and noticed a mosquito where we'd previously seen no sign of life other than the old woman.
I started complaining about how my boyfriend wasn't listening and we were going to meet our fate in this old building when the professor finally broke his silence and confronted me. He took me into the room where we'd left my boyfriend, which was now empty, and told me how maybe his change of demeanor had something to do with me sneaking out at 6am to have some fun with wilderness man. It was then that I noticed the receiver radio in the room. It was receiving transmission from the other end, which wilderness man still had with him. I was embarrassed.
My boyfriend came back in and we could hear wilderness man calling us outside. Boyfriend and I made quick eye contact and I knew a conversation awaited us if we ever made it out of here, but we wasted no time with that and found our way out. The room we'd entered through was now filled with water and we questioned the professor about whether we should even try to go through it. Professor lead the way through the same opening that had been our entrance and we took our chances with the dirty water. I told them about the mosquitos and the professor picked up his pace without saying anything.
We walked around the building and I yelled, "Ape!"
There was an ape/bear-like creature pounding its chest after the old woman we'd seen earlier. I shouldn't have yelled because at that moment, it turned towards us. I'd brought a gun along against boyfriend's advise. I probably should've brought bullets along too because after a couple of futile shots, I was out of amo.
The creature walked upright towards us with what looked like a smile on his face. It started picking up speed and when it was only a few feet away from us, we heard two shots. It froze in place, its smile slowly melting away before it fell. We looked over to the right and at the far end of the building was wilderness man with some kind of automatic weapon by his side and a huge smile on his face.
We collectively decided to get out of there before anything else happened and I woke up.
An Ending For a Generation Lost
And oh!
Hear the thunderous bombs
As they descend upon our land!
Falling fantastically in rhythm,
Like giant fists upon a synthesizer.
Perfectly in tune
With a solemn way to perish this day.
I hear them cry!
Oh, gather the school children about!
Let us not misstep
Along these trails towards the bunker not far ahead.
But we can hear them,
Trotting;
Marching about the schoolyard
In search of civilians.
And we must quiet the children –
Silence their panicked cries;
Soothe their little wails as they just follow us in confusion.
“Shh….”,
I calmly hum to the little crowd of toddlers.
“We mustn’t say a word,
Not a step too loud.
Now dry those tears
And soften those cries –
Hold it in like medicine.”
And that burning lump that lodges itself awkwardly in my throat,
Tastes bitter and sour as I bite my tongue
In a wayward attempt to not scream.
Holding my breath,
Barely breathing through my nose,
The sour numbness makes my mouth water.
The instinct to run amok in an irrational daze
Plays violently with my sensibility.
But I must hold on tight to those little ones’ hands,
For we are almost there –
I can see the doors to our safety just right up ahead!
“I believe we will make, dear children!”,
I sang out to them.
But alas –
A brightness flashed before our eyes like we had never seen before.
I watched as the ground rumbled,
As it ascended like a tidal wave,
For a mere solid second,
Only to swallow us up.
And into the ground we have fallen.
Fallen.
this is the rhythm of the night
There's a chandelier out here, of all things, but it doesn't shine as brightly as she does. Her socked feet are dancing across the floor, limbs swirling through the air with the music. It's mystical and silly all in one.
I've never really danced before, she'd told me earlier. But now she's laughing, ponytail swinging, her hand reaching out and clasping someone else's.
I push off the wall, eyes bouncing through the common room. It's a small gathering, twenty people maybe? I still don't know whose idea it was to have a party, but I can't be particularly mad about it. Our dorm is the one with a chandelier and a big, ornate common room, anyway. I'd come back from class to find Raul setting up his iPod and speaker in the corner, and now it's crackling out music from at least five years ago. Outdated technology, but no one's gonna argue with Raul.
Mina's still dancing, tripping over her friend Annie's feet as they try something akin to ballroom dancing. Try and fail, that is, but that doesn't make it any less mesmerizing to watch.
Moments later, I'm beside her, bopping up and down with the beat of the music. Annie pulls away, both her and Mina in a fit of giggles, and suddenly Mina's looking up at me, face pink. A grin is spread across her face, her eyes crinkling happily.
"And you said you couldn't dance!" I declare, taking her hand and spinning her around. She chirps out a laugh, black hair flying. She stumbles to regain her balance, and I steady her with my other hand on her shoulder. "You're fantastic," I tell her.
She's gone red, pulling away fluidly, my hands left hanging in the air. "Oh, stop," she laughs, nose crinkling.
My roommate Joel appears then, his shirt unbuttoned and an opaque water bottle clutched in one hand. His mouth slants when he meets my eye. "Drink?" he asks.
I glance back towards the hallway, even though we're both well aware that our RA would not care in the least if we were drinking or not. Without much thought I take the bottle from Joel, glancing at Mina to see if she wants any first. But she's gone, her back to me as she says something to Raul and laughs as he does the macarena.
I take a swig and continue to nod to the beat.
It doesn't take too long until someone orders pizza, and then someone runs to the vending machine on the first floor, and comes back with handfuls of sour gummy worms. And then there's only seven of us left, and Raul's playing the worst country music I've ever heard.
I've tied my hair back into a low bun, which usually makes me feel self-conscious, but I'm a little tipsy and very sugar-high. I'm cross-legged on the ground, playing patty-cake, because it's hilarious, and everything feels sparkly and good. Mina's here still, fighting with Annie over which colored gummies are the best in between teaching her the Cotton-Eyed Joe dance.
Joel, sitting across from me, slaps his hands on the ground. "I win, I think."
"You can't win patty-cake," I protest, throwing myself backwards onto the floor.
He stands and kicks my side lightly. "Say something already!" He laughs, and I snap to my feet and half-tackle him, and it turns into him giving me a piggy-back ride, and everyone else starts clapping along as he marches in a circular pattern. I play an air guitar to the country music, and end the song by pulling an invisible flower from behind my ear and handing it to Mina. Joel dumps me on the ground, but not before I see her raise her shoulders and graciously accept my imaginary prize.
I wouldn't have done it on any other day, but I ask her if she wants to watch a movie. No one's tired enough to sleep yet, but we're done dancing. She tilts her head and shows me a dimple. "Yeah."
She's never seen my room before, and I wasn't prepared to show it. I swipe stray shirts from the floor, shoving them into my closet. Joel comes in and grabs his computer, then leaves. Mina looks at the door as it clicks closed, and then slowly looks at me.
I feel cold all over, sobering as I realize she's a little afraid. Of me. I point at my Joel's TV and ask dryly, "What do you want to watch?"
Mina puts her hands on her elbows, still standing in the middle of the room. "Oh, um. I don't know."
I think the sugar's wearing off. I hoist myself up onto my bed, sitting in the corner furthest away from her, wanting her to not look so trapped. "If you don't want to anymore, that's ok."
Her heads snaps towards me, and I wonder if I've made it worse sitting on my bed, and maybe I should've just put a movie on or something. Or opened the door to get some air. I stand again, leaning over my desk to reach the window, and open it, definitely needing some air.
"Oh. Um." Mina hasn't moved. Is this good or bad?
I wave my hand in her direction. "Sorry, uh, you're free to sit on the beanbag if you want. I thought we could watch Spiderman?"
Her limbs loosen, her smile returning softly. "Only if it's Tom Holland," she tells me, settling into the beanbag.
I laugh and open my laptop, plugging it into the TV. "Of course. He's the hottest Spiderman."
She laughs too, stretching out her legs and crossing them at the ankle. "He is definitely the most personable."
"Personable?" I tease, looking at her over the top of my laptop. "No, I meant hot like hot."
She gives me a funny look that I can't quite read. "Right," she agrees as the movie begins to play.
I set down the laptop and apologize as I step over her to get to the light switch. "You ok with the lights off?"
I hear her shift in the beanbag before saying. "Um, yeah."
I hesitate, then flip the switch. "I'll turn on a lamp," I tell her, then carefully step over her again to reach my desk.
There's not another good seat in front of the TV, unless I sit on the edge of my bed, which seems awkwardly far away. Mina's eyes are on the TV, but her body language makes it clear that she's aware of my presence, that she's watching with everything but her eyes.
I lower myself slowly to the floor. "Is this ok?" It comes out a whisper.
She glances at me and smiles, making my heart thud. I'm suddenly self-conscious of myself. The space between us, the messiness of my bun, the way my legs are bent at an odd angle to avoid touching hers.
It takes me quite a few minutes to find the courage to interrupt the movie. "Do you want to cuddle?" I sound more confident than I feel.
Her face twitches, her dimple appearing and disappearing. She turns and meets my eyes, and her shoulders roll back. "You can sit in the beanbag with me," she offers.
"I don't want to make you uncomfortable," I say quietly. It seems obvious, but I want her to know.
The light from the TV paints the side of her face blue. "I know."
We readjust, and I knock her knee with mine on accident, and she giggles. I do too. She slides over, almost falling onto the floor, and I catch her by the hand, because that's the simplest thing. Her eyes smile as they meet mine.
She lets go, but raises her hand to touch the side of my neck, and it feels hot and cold all at once. Usually my hair covers my neck, and I know that she knows that. It feels more like a curious gesture than anything else.
I can't help but look at her lips, and I know she knows that too, but she just smiles and turns back to the movie, her face serene. She's unlike anything. I tuck our shoulders together, touching but not holding her. I can feel every time she laughs, or sighs, and we stay like that for the whole movie, until the screen goes dark, until it's time for her to go home.
thank you for sharing your childhood books with me.
Breathe in his thoughts like smoke,
hold them in, keep them stitched to your lungs.
Exhale a chained up series of
bitterly hopeful, hopefully bitter words.
Breathe in the worn-out memory
of all the times he wore
his heart on your sleeve--
hold it in, like medicine;
and whenever you are ready,
let your clammy hands uncurl,
let your shaking body rest,
pause the unending film depicting
all your impulsive, reckless mistakes.
And as you bite the inside of your cheeks,
as you pick at your face, scalp, and fingertips,
you know for a fact that all of this simply means
it is too late to go back in time.
You see, there are two choices, when you are
between a rock and a hard place:
A) swallow the red medicine without
a spoonful of sugar to help it all go down,
or B) pretend it will someday disappear
the longer you ignore it, the longer you hold it
tightly in, never letting it
coat anything beyond the
swollen, angry lump
living rent-free
in the back
of your
throat.
Hunger
He watched her come in, every day, for two years. She was a regular at the Starbucks he works at. She was never very social, a keep-to-herself type, and always waited patiently for her white foam, three-pump vanilla latte. He knew he was doomed the moment she came into the coffee shop. She was the most beautiful woman he's ever seen, He was in love at first sight.
she wasn't very tall, standing at 5'2 but she had a soft face that was framed by her red curls; a vision of cottage core if there ever was one, complete with freckles dotting across her nose and a smile that never stopped to awe him. They only ever had small conversations but with each conversation, the more he fell deeper and deeper for her, drowning in his love for her.
Before his work-day, he decided to take the plunge, he was going to ask her out on a date.
He clocked in, got the morning prep ready, greeting his coworkers before finally opening the store. within a half hour of being open, she walked in.
She was tenth in line so he at least had a few minutes to think of what to say to her.
The time flew by and finally, she was up, greeting him with that damn smile, tucking a red curl behind her ear. "Morning Stephen."
He felt butterflies in his stomach and his hands shake. "Morning Beth, the usual?"
"Yes please."
He checked her out, handing her a small piece of paper. "One more thing, before you go. this is my number and I was wondering if you'd like to go on a date sometime?"
She looked at the paper in his hand. "oh, I'm really sorry, I'm not interested in dating right now."
He felt all the blood leave his face. It took him all night to work up this kind of courage. "Oh." Is all he can say to it. She frowned. "I'm really sorry, I'm just going through a lot of personal shit and my therapist doesn't recommend dating right now." He just nodded and she left the line to wait for her drink.
He couldn't take it, after the morning rush, he handed in his apron and went home to figure out a way to win Beth.
Once he found a way, nothing stopped him. He went to Walmart to get everything he would need to do the craziest thing he's ever done; make a deal with the devil.
Once home he moved everything from the living room floor, taking up the carpet and starting on making the summoning circle and putting the right symbols and sigils in the right places. He lit the candles and then stood outside of it, looking at his phone before reading what was needed.
"o obscura unum voco te, auxilium meum vota vera fiunt"
At first, nothing happened then the flames on the candle danced wildly, the air got cold, cold enough he could see his breath and suddenly a seemingly human-looking man in a suit stood with a clipboard.
Stephen swallowed. "You.. you're not the devil."
the man smiled. "Oh absolutely not. Did you think the devil would come to every humans wish and whim? No, I'm one of his many helpers. let's get to business, why did you try to summon the devil?"
"uhh there's a girl-"
The man was already checking off boxes on his clipboard.
"She rejected me and I wanted a way to win her over."
The man nodded. "A classic love wish, easy enough." He handed Stephen a small handful of papers. "I need you to read over this before you agree to sign your soul over to the devil and his dominion of hell for all eternity."
Stephen glossed over a lot of the papers. "When is payment due exactly?"
"Ten years time."
Stephen looked surprised. "Ten years? I get a whole decade-"
"Yes but I implore you to read-"
Stephen was already signing the papers and handed them back with a huge smile. "Here, when will it start? when will she love me?"
The man took the papers with a strained smile. "No time at all. Now Stephen this is your last chance to read over the fine print and what it would mean for your soul."
Stephen just waved him away. "I'll deal with it then, I got ten years."
The man smiled. "Right. Enjoy your time." And then he was gone.
Within moments there was a knock on his door. When he opened it Beth was standing there. "beth?"
She smiled. "Hi. I'm so sorry about earlier, I'd love nothing more than to go on a date with you." Stephen smiled back. "Lets go then."
Ten years later
Stephen sighed as he pulled into the drive way , turning the ignition off.
When he stepped out he was greeted by two children, hugging him around his waist. "Whoa, love bugs."
They both smiled up at him, walking with im and telling him about their school day.
when he stepped through the door though, everything suddenly felt different. he felt ill.
no not ill, hungry.
so hungry he felt nauseous.
He went to the fridge, Beth seeing him as he walked to the fridge.
Beth saw him. "Stephen? how was work?"
He didn't answer, just opened the fridge, staring at the marinating steak.
"Stephen?" He took the steak out and took a bite of it. and another and another and found he couldn't get enough, he ate the whole thing.
Beth just stared in shock. "Stephen, are you ok?"
He felt a lot better now. his mouth was red with the beef blood and various herbs of the marinade. "Yeah. why?"
"You just ate the entire dinner. Raw. Maybe you should lay down."
Stephen smiled, getting a towel. "Why? I feel great now. I'm sorry about dinner, lets's order pizza, you know how much the kids love that."
Beth swallowed. "Alright. we can do that."
He woke in the middle of the night, curled in pain, trying to hide it from Beth who was sound asleep.
He felt like he hadn't eaten in weeks, or months. the hunger pain coiled deep in his stomach. He looked over at Beth, able to smell her blood, feels like he can see it going through her veins like a steady river. He felt his mouth drool at the thought of eating her.
He moved over her without any thought, staring at her neck before he opened his mouth, fangs instead of teeth showed and he tore into her. she woke, screaming in agony, blood painting her neck, Stpehns face, and the white sheets below.
the door opened and the light was suddenly on and he looked, seeing his two children.
Not children.
Prey.
"Daddy?" One of them asked and he ran for him before the door slammed in his face and he realized what he was doing. he looked at Beths now dead body, neck completely eaten and exposed and bleeding.
"Looks like you should have read that fine print."
Stephen turned, seeing the man that took his wish ten years ago.
Stephen ran over to him, pleading. "What's happening to me?"
"Well, you no longer have a soul. I took that just a few hours ago and often when something like a soul is suddenly missing, well, the body does all manners of things to overcompensate for it; the most common is hunger."
Stephen glared, trying to grab the man by his blazer labels but he was gone, on the other side of the room. "Why didn't you tell me?"
"I did. I distinctly remember trying to get you to read the fine print of the contract you signed. But you didn't care. You just wanted to live happily ever after with a girl who had no interest in you. and now you will do the same to your children and your neighbor until the police kill your body and your consciousness will live in hell. Have a good rest of your time on earth Stephen and thank you for your patronage."