Rotten Judgement

Chapter 5

Sitting on the edge of the basin that surrounded the Bethesda fountain, you looked up at the statue and tilted your head to one side, analysing it. The winged angel carried lilies in one hand as she pointed in your direction.

You walked past it almost every day, but you never took the time to look at it. Now that you knew angels were real, you wondered she had ever existed. You stared at it, your eyes intense, feeling like the statue was taunting you.

"Don't look at me like that," you told the statue, "not everyone can be an angel."

You knew it was stupid to talk to a statue, but she looked so perfect and pure and you were the complete opposite. Huffing out a breath, you looked around, scanning the area when you locked eyes with the man who broke your heart and cursed your soul.

Your heart nearly stopped.

Peter Quill stared back at you, a tentative smile lifted the corners of his lips. He waved his hand in your direction and the sun caught a ring on his fourth finger. You held your breath.

He was married.

He seemed to be mouthing a word, but your mind was elsewhere. It could have been 'sorry' or maybe 'hello'. The brunette standing next to him balanced her child on her hip as she wrapped her free arm around his waist.

He had a child.

You felt sick. You closed your eyes shut and tried a breathing exercise. Unfortunately, it didn't calm your anxiety. Instead, your brain kept replaying the events of the day you sold your soul.

You knelt in front of the God of Death, the ground cold and unforgiving under your knees, as you begged him to save your boyfriend's life. He stayed silent for a long moment and you deliberately made yourself look smaller, hoping it would tug on his heartstrings.

"Why should I save him?"

"Huh?" you replied lamely.

"See, your boyfriend is supposed to die, his time has come. I can't bend the rules for him, unless you give me something in exchange." He got up from his throne and walked over to you. "Look around you. I own this place, I'm a God."

You held your breath as his shoes came into view. A metallic finger hooked under your chin, dragging your gaze up. His blue eyes shone with excitement.

"A life for a life, darlin'. That's the deal."

"My life?"

He nodded. You took the metal hand he offered and got to your feet. The two demons who brought you to him were waiting behind you; the redhead was carrying a quill while the brunette was holding a piece of paper. You kept your eyes on the God as you took the quill.

His gaze swept over you as you read the contract. Taking a deep breath, you put the end of the quill against the paper and wrote your name. The scratch of the quill against the parchment made you shiver.

"Excellent!" he beamed. "You now belong to me. If I say 'jump', you jump. If I say, 'sing,' you say, 'hey, name that tune.' And if you disobey, there will be consequences."

You rushed back to the hospital that day, relieved when the nurse told you that Peter made an unexpected recovery. At least you hadn't sell your soul for nothing.

Until...

Two months later, you came home from a secret assignment and Peter was waiting for you, his suitcase packed and waiting by the door. He fell in love with someone else – the nurse you both befriended- and decided he didn't love you anymore.