Deals & The Devil

Hannah K.

What wouldn’t we give away, for what we most desire?

Maybe we want freedom, independence, autonomy. Maybe we wish for love, affection, and fondness. Perhaps it’s talent and abilities unlike our predecessors. Or maybe we want beauty, youth, and charisma. It doesn’t matter much to me.

I deal with them all. 

In my lifetime, I’ve encountered thousands of souls who all, at the end of the day, want. Sometimes they’re clear in what they wish for, sometimes they need a little nudge. Say what you will about me, but I never give them something they don’t want.

The problem is they always expect it to be free. 

I’m upfront about that too, mind you. I tell the mortals exactly what it’ll cost them, and in their desperation, they always say yes. Not once has anyone ever refused a deal I have offered, for I am royalty amongst dealmakers. They simply are shocked when I finally come to take what is owed.

Perhaps they think me forgetful and ignorant, but that I am not. Not only is every deal I’ve ever offered accepted, but every deal has been fulfilled. Willing or not is hardly of concern for me - they knew what they were getting into from the start.

Asking for souls is the clichéd route, but an effective one. The euphoria of grasping one in the palm of my hands and crushing them is hard to come by. They double as a source of monetary gain as well, the currency of the underworld, if you will. 

If I am the king amongst dealers, then I’m the devil amongst mortals. I find it hilarious, of course, that they always assume I am “the dark one.” As if there’s only one of my kind, when there are hundreds of us. Every person of great success owes it to us; every song that has changed the way we listen, every story that has changed the way we think, every face that has changed the way we see, all of it, is because of us.

There is joy in watching envy and bitterness grow in those who want.

All of this considered, all of this known, and you must be able to imagine my surprise when she had the audacity to turn it all around. I, the one made of mortal’s deepest desires and guiltiest pleasures, should be overridden by a simple girl is outrageous. 

When I accepted her desperate call, her tears staining her burning red face as she screamed into the sky for help, I had imagined an encounter like all of my others. A simple “I am the answer you seek” and a “but… but… okay” and the deal should have been sealed. 

Should have. 

I expected maybe a glimmer of fear in her eyes, or maybe some awe. I had not, however, expected her to look angry at me. Like it was I who had interrupted her evening, not her with mine through her annoyingly persistent cries. 

She then had the audacity to throw a stone at me, the woman crouched in the grass herself. But it wasn’t out of fear, oh no, she did it as she called me an ass.

Shocked, as you would expect, I was left speechless. It took me a good moment to gather my composure and straighten my jacket. 

“You called?” I had said, my voice a long drawl.

She had sighed dramatically and stood up, wiping at the green stains by the knees of her white dress. Her cries, moments ago loud enough for me to hear a world away, stopped. She cleared her throat and spoke with only a hint of rasp, impressive after the extent of her screeches.

“I’ve heard you deal with matters of the heart,” she said, her voice direct.

“Well, yes I do. Amongst other things.”

“And would those other things include… how do I put this… happy accidents?”

I suppose you could imagine the slow curve of a smile on my face. A jealous girl, wanting to rid the world of an ex lover, I’m sure.

“Anything could be arranged,” I had said.

“In that case then, I’ll be needing you to kill me.”

I was gobsmacked, as I’m sure you can imagine. Typically those who wished death upon themselves merely took the matters into their own hands. Asking something like this from me was a rarity. 

“Well, not quite kill me,” she hastened to clarify. “More so, I need you to make it look like I died.” 

I admit, I was intrigued. This is a peculiar request from someone of any age, let alone one who was so young and had so many opportunities before her. What could she possibly have done that would enlist such an ask?

I leaned in closer to her, my intent to put her on edge. “Sure, as long as you're willing to come to a certain arrangement with me.”

“And what would that entail?” she asked, her voice accusing.

“Just your soul. After an agreed upon time, of course. I’m willing to workshop a precise-”

“No.”

She cut me off. This mortal cut me off.

“I’m sorry?” I had said, confused.

“No thank you. You can go now. Goodbye.” She waved me off then, as if she weren’t a mess before me, as if she had any command of the situation.

“But-”

“Good. Bye.”

And with that she no longer desired something from me and, against much of my will, I began to fade away from her realm. 

Now here I am, pacing my floor, trying to rack my mind in how she could have possibly rejected me. Not once in the vast expanse of my lifetime have I ever been told no, not once has someone ever been so repulsed by my suggestion. Of course there’s hesitancy, even somtimes e a soft “no”’s. But these never have the decisiveness to wish me away. 

I must learn more, I cannot let this consume me. 

I will not let this consume me.