Don't make deals with devils (Short story)

The devil

The devil is no woman you should make deals with, she is an unkind being who cheats and lies, and she does not uphold her promises. Not everyone knows the consequences of every transaction they make with her. Just like everyone, I was oblivious to what the devil was famous for. With my heart in my hands, I pleaded for her help. For that my first child was ill and my husband was off fighting a war. I begged the strange woman to regain the health of my child and for the protection of my husband. The woman agreed, but in return she told me that she would have to have my soul for her collection and that I must stay with her, to be her companion. Signing my life away I stayed in the dark dungeon of the giant maze that the devil called her home. The dungeon was a small room filled with a creaky bed, a small bedside table, a dim lamp, a wooden chair that was uncomfortable to sit in and in corner a foggy mirror. It was covered in dust and dry blood, the only way of seeing my beloved husband and child was through the small foggy mirror. Months flew by and the war was over, they had won. But the news of the disappearance of his wife, he was driven into a dark depression lasting a lifetime. The only light in my life was seeing my child through the dusty mirror, I thought I had done the right thing. But just imagine the sheer horror I felt when I saw in the mirror my child struggling for air, floating with the fast moving, rough river, being tumbled and twisted as they passed through sandbars and rocks. They tried to keep their head above the water but soon they gave up, oh how little strength a child only the age of five can have. I cried that night, salty tears streamed down my cheeks uncontrollably and my heart ached for the child I had lost.

With a quiet whistling a breezy wind only lasting a second and dark red fog, I felt a hand grip onto my shoulder. Whipping my head around, I growled at the being who stood there. Her skin pearly white it looked as if she was a ghost, her cheekbones were high and razor sharp, lips full and the colour of red apples, her eyebrows thick with a high arch, her light green eyes seemed almost brighter, her eye lashes long and luxurious. Her hair was long, the colour of fire and fell just below her bottom. She was dressed in a black jumpsuit with long sleeves, it was tight enough to show off the curves of her hips.

"How could you?" My voice was shaking with rage, I got up off of my knees and turned my whole body towards the woman, "We made a deal and you broke it!"

"No, I said they wouldn't die from illness- I didn't say they wouldn't die from something else," She replied calmly, her voice sounded as sweet as honey and as chirpy as a swallow. She removed her cold hand from my shoulder before saying; "Didn't your mother ever tell you not to make deals with the devil?" And with another sudden burst of wind she was gone.

A mixture of feelings rushed through my veins, sadness, guilt but mostly hatred. Grabbing the nearest object I threw it against the wall directly across from me and I watched as it shattered into millions of pieces.

"I hate you!" I screamed at the top of my lungs, I fell to my knees, my hands clasping at my chest where my broken heart was, more hot tears burst out of my eyes.

Many more months dragged by, all of the time was spent with me sitting on my knees in front of the dusty mirror watching my husband as he wrote the letter, putting in every detail of how the world is cruel and no one will miss him. I cried and screamed for him to stop until I had no tears left and my throat was sore. I knew he wouldn't be able to hear me, but I didn't care. I just wanted him to stop. I couldn't move, it felt like centuries since my loved ones had died. I could feel the bags build up under my eyes, my skin turn into sandpaper and my hair turn into thin straws of brown. It felt like ages since I had last seen that beautiful creature called the devil. I hated it here, I wanted to leave but I made a deal- I hated how I was so blind not to see that the devil would cheat so easily, finding loopholes is easiest when you're a fallen angel. A familiar sudden gush of wind whipped past my face moving strands of hair away from my pale neck.