There was something about the way he came to me. The look in his eyes, the desperation that seemed to pour off him, that made me want to help. Or perchance, it was to repent for what I had done in the first place. For what had gotten me into this mess. I didn't regret it. Even though I knew I should have, could have, almost would have regretted it. If things had been different. I was only 11, and things, times, where desperate. So, I did it. I sold my soul to the Devil. It's not my fault I needed to. It was almost like I didn't have a choice. It didn't feel like it, but I did, I had a chance and I took it. He gave me everything I could need, and all he asked for in return was a little soul. Human souls didn't cost much on the black market, not in these days when they were so tainted with our sins. It was 3 years ago, almost to the day. And he came back. No trying to back out of the deal, no. He said it himself when we first agreed to the exchange. That nothing could get me out of this, except another deal that contradicted the first one. It was almost like I was the Devil in this situation, like we switched roles from 3 years ago. Taking a soul (although my own) in exchange for a task, varying in difficulty. He came to me, and he said the four words that would change my life forever.
"I need a favor."
YOU ARE READING
The Name of the Devil
Short Story"Who are you?" "Demon to some. Angel to others." ∞Nobody expects an Angel to set the world on fire∞ ° You sold your soul...
