No Good Deed
Self Therapy
May,
I’m writing this email because I want you to know what you’ve made me become. Since our divorce I have done everything I can to move on. I’ve developed new hobbies, moved to a new state and counseling. Nothing has worked. A few months ago, during a sleepless night I went for a drive to clear my mind. Before I realized it, I had driven throughout the night and parked right in front of our home. (Well, my home that the courts awarded to you.) Anyway, I felt as though my body moved on its own. My hands opened the door, my legs moved to get out of the car. A “clack” sound broke my stupor. I looked down to see my loaded Smith & Wesson on the ground. It must have fallen out of my lap as I tried to get out of the car but, I couldn’t remember why I had the gun or that I brought it with me.
May, I would never NEVER hurt you. I feel like my mind has cracked. I love you too much to hurt you, but I need to burn, to destroy the thoughts of you in my head!
See, this is where my “attacks” began. I met a young lady a few weeks ago at a club. I was at the bar trying to drink thoughts of you out of my mind even if it was for a few hours. She came to me and introduced herself. After a few drinks she invited me back to her place. We made out briefly at her front door while she fiddled with the lock. As soon as we got inside however, my God!
PINK! Everything was pink! Your favorite color! Why did she have to like pink?! My head began to throb, like my brain was going to shove its way out of my forehead. My heart started racing faster than I’ve known it to do. I got dizzy. Before I could stop myself, my hands were around her throat. In my heart I knew what I was doing was wrong. All I could see was the color pink and your face, on her body. With all the force I had in me I squeezed. She tried to claw my face and arms to break free with no results. I heard something crunch in her neck and she went limp. As the light faded from her eyes it was if a light had been turned on in me. The headache subsided, my strength was sapped and I felt as though a fog had been cleared. Once I saw her crumpled body on her floor I fled as fast as I could. May, the strangest thing happened on that drive home. The color pink no longer bothered me like it did that night. It was like, killing that girl was a form of self-therapy. Killing her was me, killing off a painful memory of you! Of course, I had to test the theory.
Rachel, a little slip of a thing who worked at a library downtown asked me out several times in the past. She’s not my type though, you…you are my type. Well, I went there to return a few books well passed the due date. We spoke and she asked me out again. This time, I accepted. We went to dinner…nothing. We went to a movie…nothing. I had begun to think that I was on an average date and that the club girl was a fluke ya know? I got the anger and frustration I had in me released when I strangled her. I asked Rachel to my apartment because there was NOTHING in there that reminded me of you, I did that to reduce any chances of those headaches. To be honest, as the night continued, I took a liking to Rachel. I even entertained the idea of a second, third or fourth date. We got to my place and I showed her around before leaving her in the living room while I went to the kitchen to fix a nightcap. I remember cracking some sort of corny joke and she laughed. Her laugh was truly beautiful, full of life and sweet. Then it happened.
That laugh was beautiful as I said, but it was emphasized at the end by a little snort. Just…like…yours. My head pounded, my vision got fuzzy. I receded into my own mind. Once again, my body was carrying out actions without my consent! I watched myself shatter a glass, causing her to run into the kitchen to check on me. I couldn’t stop myself when she approached me and I shoved a large jagged piece into her eye. She let out a bit of a scream but nothing that the neighbors could hear. As before, the pain fizzled away and a moment of clarity came. I knew then that if someone were to snort after a laugh, I would be ok. The cleanup was tedious I confess. However, I was able to (over time mind you) carry her out of there and dispose of her.
Since Rachel, I have committed several horrible crimes against really wonderful women! There was Sarah, her favorite restaurant was Benici’s, you love Benici’s; she was shot with the same Smith & Wesson that I brought to your home so long ago. Joan, she was so beautiful. She was terrified of a spider that made its way into my car like you. I bludgeoned her to death with a tire iron. There are many others but that’s not the reason for this email.
This is me, asking you, to stop me. I can’t stop myself. I’ve been fortunate enough not to get caught so far, but I overlooked something during my “self-counseling.” You see May, my head hurts worse than ever before and it has become difficult to continue typing right now. You recall that the courts awarded me joint custody of Patricia and as the order instructed, I picked her up from the bus depot for her six month stay with me. We’re supposed to go to Pizza Palace for dinner. She’s standing just outside of my bedroom door with an impatient look across her face.
And it made me think of you.
End.
His Gift
She thought about the dinner that night. The food was excellent! Everyone was full of laughter and the night ended just as excellently as the dinner. She laughed to herself reminiscing about the glasses of wine she consumed. She almost swallowed the small metallic object that sunk to the bottom of her fourth (or was it fifth) glass. She spit the object into her hand and saw one of the most beautiful rings that she had ever laid eyes on! She turned to thank Justin only to find him kneeling behind her chair. Melissa fought back tears as she though about his words that night.
“Babe, we have been together for the best three years of my life. I want you to be by my side morning, noon and night until the end of time. Please, do me the honor of being my wife.” She thought back to her mother and sisters crying at the sight of it all after she told him “yes”. Melissa became Melissa Autumn Hewitt shortly after.
A cold rush of air struck the back of her paper gown which caught her by surprise. After adjusting the gown a bit to prevent any more drafts, she began to twist the wedding ring on her finger. She thought about how much she loved Justin. A tear rolled down her face as she thought about that night a month and a half ago, the night that changed her life forever.
She and Justin walked arm and arm from the Predition Magic Movie Theater, joking about how bad the movie was. He opened her car door and kissed her gently on the lips after he was sure that she was seated comfortably. As Justin began to walk around the front of their vehicle to get to the driver’s side, a homeless man approached Justin and gave him a sob story about how and why he needed money. Justin happily gave the homeless man the change in his pocket left over from the movie purchase. The homeless man caught a glimpse of a watch on Justin’s wrist that Melissa had bought for him last Christmas. The man asked for the watch and Justin replied jokingly
“Nah man, you can’t get this. The misses got me this and I won’t hear the end of it if I just give it away!”
He patted the man on his shoulder and attempted to walk around him. The man blocked Justin, asking once again for the watch but Justin remained firm with his refusal. The man pulled out a knife from his dirty pants pocket and demanded the watch and once more, Justin told him “no”.
The man tried to take Justin’s watch and a struggled ensued. Melissa remembered screaming frantically through the windshield. Even while fighting the man, to Justin, Melissa’s safety was paramount.
He yelled at her several times “STAY INSIDE! STAY INSIDE!”
Tears flow freely from her face every time she thinks about that night. She recalled the shocked look on Justin’s face when the man’s knife punctured his chest. That single moment played out in slow motion for Melissa. She saw the knife buried up to the hilt protruding from Justin’s chest as he collapsed in the parking lot. Justin still tried to fight as the homeless man attempted to get the watch from his wrist. A passerby must have called the police because Melissa heard sirens blaring towards her location and she knew that she was in too much of a panic to think about calling the police herself. The man fled with the watch, leaving Justin in a pool of his own blood.
Once Melissa was sure that the man was gone, she exited the vehicle as quickly as she could. She ran to the front of the car screaming Justin’s name. She yanked the knife out of his chest and began to apply as much pressure as her tiny frame could to the open wound. Blood seeped through the spaces between her fingers, covering her hand, covering her wedding ring. She could barely make out Justin’s features through the tears in her eyes but from what she could see, Justin was smiling! He reached a hand up to her face and brushed away a few tears.
“Hey beautiful,” he sputtered, “don’t cry. You have nothing to cry for. My life with you has been better than I ever imagined and I thank you for every second of it.” He coughed roughly, causing specks of blood to spray onto his lips and chin. “I-I have to go now, but a piece of me will be with you forever.” Justin took a few deep breaths and exhaled one final time.
Although the homeless man was caught shortly after, she knew that his arrest would offer no comfort to her now. Hate boiled in her heart when thinking about that man. More tears began to flow. Dr. Nathaniel Strum entered the room suddenly and startled Melissa. She quickly began to wipe the tears from her eyes.
“Uh, I-I’m sorry,” the doctor stammered after seeing Melissa’s tear stained cheeks and red eyes, “should I step out and give you some time?”
“No,” she sniffled, “please, what have you found out? Is everything ok with me?”
The doctor entered the room and closed the door behind him. Dr. Strum pulled up a chair close to Melissa.
“We ran all the tests and everything looks as I suspected. I’m not sure what made you upset but, I have the results right here. I can read them to you or you can read them yourself.”
Melissa thought about it for a moment and decided to take the envelope and see her own results. Dr. Strum handed her the thick brown envelope then took a few steps back. Melissa opened the envelope with shaking hands, unsure of what her lab results would read. She removed the paperwork and read each line carefully, she stopped once she reached the last few lines and began to cry once again.
“Congratulations,” Dr. Strum said with a smile on his face, “I’ll give you some time to yourself.”
The doctor left the room. As soon as she heard the door close, she looked toward the ceiling, tears erupting out of her eyes like a waterfall. She spoke through quivering lips, “you always kept you word Justin. A piece of you will always be with me………I’m pregnant!”
END
The Call
“For the last time, NO!” Annabelle Atwater screamed into the phone, “I know the importance and significance of today but we are not doing any interviews, we have grieved and put it behind us!” She slammed the phone down onto the base.
Gregory Atwater sat in his armchair mindlessly watching a football game, the images of the T.V. flickered off of his thick bifocals.
“Another reporter called. They want to do some damn interview about Angel’s disappearance. The fifteen year anniversary of the missing fifteen year old girl. One man dubbed it ‘Fifteen for fifteen’. They are already making tag lines to market our loss! I say no! What’s in the past is in the past. If we agree to interviews those assholes would ask questions…questions that will peak someone’s interest, then they’ll….GREGORY!”
He turned his attention from the game, a blank stare plastered across his face.
“Did you hear what I said?” Annabelle shouted as she entered the den and sat next to him.
“Yeah,” he muttered, “they want to do interviews and you don’t. Just tell em no.”
She sighed. “We should never have been parents. I should’ve known something was wrong with you when we got together. I was fourteen and you were what? Twenty five? Twenty seven? Ha!” She scoffed, “I thought I was special, turns out you just like them young.”
Gregory looked back at the television. He heard so much about his actions that night over the past fifteen years that he became numb to his wife’s ugly remarks. She continued.
“You had me! A full grown and; thanks to you, sexually knowledgeable wife at your disposal but you couldn’t keep your hands off our little girl.” She stood back up. “I should’ve said something when I woke up and saw that you were not in bed that night. Oh, I knew where you were though didn’t I Greg? Oh I knew! There you were, in Angel’s bedroom on top of my little girl!”
Annabelle began to leave the den when Gregory finally spoke. “Then why did you help me?”
The question was direct. His voice was as rough as two concrete slabs rubbed against each other. The question caused Annabelle to stop in her tracks. She turned to him slowly.
“You know why,” she rebutted, her voice was low and harsh, resembling a growl more than speech. “I didn’t help you. I PROTECTED US! Angel was our daughter, but she was a hussy! She threw her little twat all around town. But that’s the thing…small towns are where people talk. Both of our families live in this town. I already had negative ass comments about Angel’s (Annabelle made air quotes) “activities” with those boys and to have word spread that I married a molester too? I wouldn’t be able to show my face in public. Greg, you heard her that night, the night we did what we did. She told us that she would tell! She would talk about you. Tell about me knowing that you were getting pleasure from her. We couldn’t live with that.”
Once again, Gregory sat still, the ambient noise of the T.V. continued as his mind went elsewhere. Annabelle was familiar with that look which angered her. The look that said to her, Gregory was mentally checking out of the conversation. Annabelle felt the need to convince, not only Gregory but to herself, that their actions that night were justified.
“She would have ruined us Greg! You just finished your first part of the campaign. I was gonna be the wife of a mayor! Even with our daughter’s past, the town still wanted you to lead. So, when she lashed out the way she did talking about calling the police, sexual abuse and so on well…I had to do SOMETHING!”
Annabelle stopped and thought about that night. Finding Gregory on top of Angel for the umpteenth time. The harsh words shouted by her daughter. Annabelle’s failed attempts to talk to Angel out of telling someone. Her mind flashed to grabbing a nearby lamp and striking the temple of Angel’s head. The crunch sound that the blow made before Angel collapsed on the floor. She remembered how scared she was when the reality of her actions came forward. She recalled dropping the bloody lamp next to Angel when their daughter started to move again. Without hesitation, Gregory scooped up the lamp and struck Angel again, and again until her head was left as a pink mush. Covered in blood they looked at each other. Gregory’s cement voice played in her head the same words he said that night.
“Now we are in this together.”
The phone rang, snapping Annabelle from the past into the present. “Another one.” She mumbled to herself. She stormed over to the phone and snatched it to her ear.
“Look, we’ve told you people everything we know about our daughter’s disappearance! Mayor Atwater and I are still very upset about the whole ordeal!”
“Are you?” A female voice responded softly. The voice sounded so familiar it caught Annabelle off guard.
“Wh-who is this?”
“Does my voice have to be muffled by the sound of dad’s hand to sound familiar to you?” The female replied.
Annabelle’s blood froze. She walked with the phone to the den. Gregory looked at her again, this time, his look was as if he expected something. Annabelle’s voice caught in her throat. What came out was barely above a whisper.
“A-Angel…on the phone.”
Gregory raised an eyebrow and scoffed, “Bout time you heard it, she’s been calling since yesterday. I thought it was in my head.”
Annabelle dropped the phone, causing it to bump softly on the den carpet. She walked dumbly to a window in the den overlooking her rose bushes. The same bushes that Angel Atwater was buried under. As she looked out, Angel’s voice was heard in the background growing louder each time she spoke.
“Hello? Hello? HELLO? HELLO? HELLOOOOOO?”
END
THE CROSSROADS
THE CROSSROADS
To my wife Anne,
First, let me tell you that I love you. I know recent events have made it hard to believe sometimes, but I do. Over the past few nights I have grown distant from you and I think that you have felt it. Here is the reason why.
Hopefully you remember the trip I took to Texas. The one where I broke down somewhere in Mississippi. Well, I didn’t tell you everything. I did break down in Mississippi, the damn car conked out on a vacant stretch of road leading into Louisiana. With no gas station in sight and my shitty cell phone reception, I couldn’t get any help. I didn’t want to sit on my ass and wait for a passerby so I got out and started walking. I swear I walked for miles in that damn heat! Sweat seeped through my shirt, my pants, everything! I felt my knees get weaker, my mouth was so dry I couldn’t produce saliva! I stopped by the roadside to think about any other course of action that I could take. Absentmindedly, I said something to the effect of “I’ll trade my soul for something cold to drink.” Sometime later, I continued to walk. I figured, at that point I had walked too far away from the car to turn back so I pushed on.
As I approached a crossroads off of US 43, a black antique looking vehicle approached me from behind. Even though it was an old school type of car, I didn’t hear the engine or anything until it pulled up beside me. The car was nice! Smooth midnight black paint all over with chrome lining. The whole thing was pristine. I tried to see a driver through the passenger side window but the tint was too dark. When the window went down, a well-dressed man with a thin black mustache and a pulled back ponytail sat in the driver’s seat looking back at me. He offered me a ride to the nearest service station and with the way the heat was beating down on me, I jumped in the car without hesitation.
Our time together was relatively brief. After I introduced myself and told him about my situation concerning my car, we made some small talk during which I told him about the job, the heat, and various other things. I answered each question honestly because at the moment, I felt at ease around him and he didn’t ask any personal type of questions. I thanked him for the ride several times and expressed how eager I was to get to civilization so that I could buy something to drink. That’s when my real problems began.
Anne, the next thing I’m about to tell you may seem unbelievable, but trust me, it’s real. The man reached into the back seat and brought forth the coldest, most mouthwatering bottle of water that I have ever seen! The bottle was so cold that shards of ice were still floating near the top, condensation ran over the tips of his fingers as he held it. Looking at the water reminded me of that silly shit I muttered earlier that day. Like an idiot, I brought up my statement and he pulled over to the side of the roadway instantly. Once the car was in park, he looked at me. His eyes were ocean blue but I couldn’t help feeling that something else was in those eyes, something dark.
“Did you really mean that?” He asked.
I told him that I did, but believe me I meant it as a joke! We both laughed a bit about the absurdity of it all and as our chuckles faded he offered me the water. At that point, the dryness in my mouth taxed my throat. I felt myself straining just to speak. I took the bottle from his hand. Before I cracked the seal, he said to me almost playfully, “If you take a sip, I get that soul right?”
Of course, I thought he was full of shit, just fucking with me about my “soul” comment and was making light of the situation. We laughed a little bit more about it. I can still remember what I said back.
“Sure man, after all the help you’ve given me, it’s yours.” After that, I opened the water and downed it in one sitting.
The moment, I mean the exact damn moment I finished the last few drops from the bottle, he put the vehicle in drive. Within seconds we were at a gas station. I mean, it seemed to just appear over a small hill we went over. He pulled up to a pump and told me that “it was nice” speaking to me. As I unbuckled my seat belt he grabbed me by the shoulder to get my attention. I turned to look at him, those cold blue eyes locked on mine once again.
“Pleasure doin’ business with ya friend.” He said to me with a smile. He stuck out his hand. I shook it but didn’t know what he meant at first until I thought back to the “soul” stuff. I thought the guy was a little touched in the head so I just nodded and smiled. I wanted to thank him properly so I asked his name.
“I got a multitude of names,” I remembered that line because to me “multitude” of names confirmed to me that the guy was clearly nuts! A multiple personality type thing. So anyway, I asked him what he preferred to be called.
“Ba’al will be fine,” he said it as plainly as a person would when ordering a coffee. I told him that the name was unusual and he agreed that it was.
“Our names are unusual to you mortals.”
Once again, my theory on the guy was confirmed…crazy. I began to back away. I mean, since I’m safely at a location with other people around I didn’t need to entertain that lunatic any further, but he continued.
“You probably think I’m not in my right mind, but I assure you that I am. I am, in many circles, referred to as one of the ‘fallen’. One of those cast out from Heaven and banished to Hell many years ago.”
“So you’re the devil?” I admit, I chuckled a little when I said it. It just seemed so damned ridiculous. That look he gave me afterward is still burned in my mind.
“No, I’m not king Lucifer, nobody has seen him in quite some time. Besides, you mortals always assume each time you meet one of us that we are he. We are not.”
Yup! As I’m sure you guessed, I walked away immediately. The guy made me nervous to the point of goose bumps. As I walked away, he shouted that he would return in fifteen thousand nine hundred and eighty four hours. The time frame was oddly specific but like I said, the guy was lost his mind. I couldn’t help but noticing that as he spoke, he did so with such confidence and clarity that I started to believe that he may not be crazy. I chalked the whole thing up to him obviously fucking with me. He gave me a parting wave and left, driving back from the same way that we came.
I entered the gas station and luckily the clerk let me use the phone to call roadside assistance. A wrecker came and got the car, which I told you about. While I waited for the tow truck to get to me, I asked the clerk if he noticed that sleek vintage car that I got out of at the pumps, unfortunately though, he said he was attending other customers. When he even took notice of me, I was walking into the place. Everything else about the story I have already told you.
By the time a year passed, I had forgot about the guy and his weird ass behavior. One day a few months back, a delivery boy at the office brought me a package I ordered a client.
“Hey friend, just a reminder time is getting short.” Even though I haven’t heard that voice in over a year, the sound froze the blood in my veins. I looked up and sure as shit it was him! As my mind processed what I experienced, he smiled and left my office. Once my shock passed I called security. I personally went with them to the mail room, bathrooms and all exits to search for him with no luck. I knew I wasn’t seeing things so I got with the head of security. Together, we watched the security footage during the time frame that he came into my office with the package. Four times! Four times we watched the clip! Each time the video played crystal clear until his estimated arrival to my office. When that moment hit, the footage flickered and went to black. When the clip played again, I’m alone with the package in my hand and a dumb scared look on my face. I couldn’t explain it then, and I can’t explain it now.
I saw the man who identified himself as Ba’al a few short months after the first incident. I went to Best Bakery, a little sandwich shop near work. I don’t usually eat there, but there was no line at the time so I went in. I walked up to the register to place my order. The cashier, a dumpy looking woman with “Layla” on her name tag rung me up. I just happened to have exact change for my food and went into my pocket to get the last few pennies needed. Layla told me that she needed more sliced tomato from the fridge and she went to get it. I stayed at the register of course. I checked my watch quickly to because I was pressed for time. When I looked back to the register, he was there, staring at me with a smile! I froze in my tracks Anne, I couldn’t scream or yell it was like my throat was just caught somehow.
He leaned over the register toward me, “it’s almost time to collect friend.” It seemed like the closer he leaned toward me, the more his eyes bulged from his face with some sort of joker’s smile from ear to ear. I was scared Anne, so scared that I dropped my money on the floor, breaking my concentration from him. I looked briefly at the scattered money then looked back at Ba’al…Gone, but Layla was back looking like a deer in headlights. I asked her about the man, about Ba’al. She told me over and over that she was the only person working that afternoon and that nobody else had been behind the register with her all day. I had to call the police.
It was obvious now that this guy “Ba’al” was stalking me. I told the cops everything. Layla called her district manager who came to the bakery and viewed the video footage with the police. An hour or so passed while I waited in the dining area of the store. An officer came out of the manager’s office and escorted me outside. He told me that on tape, I was seen entering the restaurant and placing my order with Layla. She then walked to the back, out of camera view. He saw me look around the place and when I looked back at the register, I froze. He said that based on my reaction he could tell that I was terrified of something, but nobody was on camera. He saw me drop my money and while I picked it up, Layla came back to the register with the tomatoes.
The officer, I think his name was Lyon or Lyons…I can’t remember which; anyway, he was a bit of a religious guy. He asked me about my encounter at the crossroads and the incidents afterward. He grilled me for a while and thought about the time frame Ba’al gave me until he collected my soul. We agreed that the time and date seemed unusually specific. He told me that when it comes to the devil or his minions, they enjoy playing mental games and shady bargains with mortals. He put the date in his phone and told me that if any information came up, he would contact me. I gave him my number and left.
Anne, you know I’m not a believer in that religious bullshit, but if this fucking guy thought he was an agent from hell, I had to solve this issue. After work, I scoured the internet for some way around this. I figured that if he is that committed to this act, he may also follow the rules that apply to demons. As each day passed my time was growing short, I could feel it. I didn’t know at the time if he planned to kill me or this whole thing was some fucked up but elaborate prank. I just didn’t know.
I read solutions to demonic bargains. Online there are thousands of would-be demon experts with answers. Things ranging from making another bargain, having someone take your place, have a holy man bless your home and family…or the person who made the deal needs to commit suicide just to get it over with. I grew anxious about this shit, but I didn’t want to worry you. I tried a few ideas already.
I’ve had Pastor Dean come by the house from the Greater High Praise Baptist Church while you were at work a few days ago. I had to go through the hassle of filling out some forms and become a member of the church, but in the end, I got the blessing. That same day, I got a call from Officer Lyons as a follow up from my stalking report. He told me that since the incident, he reviewed the restaurant tape several times with other officers. Nobody saw any person speaking to me. Since there is no visible suspect, the case had to be closed, which I understood. He did tell me however that true to the “demon theme” fifteen thousand nine hundred and eighty four hours is six hundred, sixty six days…Three sixes. After that I’ve been wearing a cross around my neck, which I know you’ve noticed. For a while I thought I was safe and over time, I started to believe that I was overreacting and stress got the best of me. Until two nights ago.
I don’t know if you remember, but two nights ago we had Benici’s Pizza and watched some movies. You went to bed but I finished one more movie and a few drinks. Eventually you know I fell asleep on the couch. I don’t recall the exact time I woke up but I know what woke me. Initially, it felt as though someone was patting or tapping my face. I opened my eyes but it took a second for me to focus. When I took in my surroundings, the image hit me.
A creature, that’s the best way I could describe it. A creature. It sat on the edge of the coffee table a few feet away from me, glaring. Sweetheart, you got to understand what I saw, what terrified me. There, seated on our table with its legs crossed, hands clasped resting on his knee like he was at some kind of job interview was a…thing! Red skin from head to hoof, the smell of rotting eggs filled the room. Two large ram horns protruded from the sides of its head. Its pointed ears were drawn back, long locks of slick black hair covered most of its face. The creature leaned forward, his pointed red nose resembled and accusatory finger aimed right at me. It grinned from ear to ear. The crazy thing about it was that its teeth were flawless! You would think that its teeth would be jagged and twisted based solely on its exterior appearance, but no; there was a row of perfectly white teeth behind a pair of black leathery lips. I looked into its eyes, its cold BLUE eyes.
“Hello friend.”
Even though it did not look like the man I met so long ago, that voice was undeniable. I replied.
“Hello Ba’al”
We talked. Although I was terrified of his appearance and the confirmation that he was in fact some creation of hell, I remained calm. He told me that he knew I was dodging him, that he didn’t appreciate me calling security on him at work or the police at the sandwich place. He let me know that he could have found ways to take my soul before the designated time, but he reminded me that a “deal is a deal” and he wanted to wait until the allotted time has passed to do so. So we sat there in the living room, just him and me as we once again went over the terms of the bargain. We discussed the error of my ways and that foolish comments like selling my soul for a drink can’t be taken lightly. I understand that now more than ever.
Anne, as you read this please know that I will miss you and our unborn child. It does hurt knowing that I won’t even see our child’s first steps, first words or first breath of life. As I sit here in our car, the same car that broke down not so long ago. The same car that caused me to meet Ba’al in the first place, I can feel that our time has come to an end together. I want to thank you for the years you have given me as a wife and a friend. I want to thank you for carrying our child. I want to thank you for all the love and support you have given me. It was because of you, pushing me to be my best, that I was eligible for promotion to executive officer of the company. I thank you for it all. Lastly, I want to thank you for breakfast this morning; our last breakfast together. I know, it was nothing special, eggs, bacon and toast with a cup of coffee. Of course you had the orange juice. You love orange juice… and that’s why you’re asleep now.
Baby, as I said earlier, I just got promoted to a position that I have busted my ass to get for nearly fifteen years. I worked too hard to lose it all now. So I must confess this last thing to you. Ba’al and I spoke about the deal I made with him in the living room as I have told you. I asked him about ways that I could change or even extend my time on earth. I was told, in a way; that I could squeeze out a couple of years if I sacrificed him a life. Ba’al also mentioned that the deal will be considered honored if I could sacrifice a virgin life. He promised that if I could provide a pure soul that he would cut me free of the deal completely! So, after he left I devised this plan. I bummed some horse tranquilizers from Ryan, you remember Ryan? My veterinarian friend you met a while back? Anyway, he gave them to me after I gave him a sob story about being an addict and in need of a fix. I held on to the meds until this morning when I crushed them up and put it in the pitcher of orange juice. After you were knocked out, I put you in the trunk and drove you here from Georgia, to where you are going to wake…the crossroads.
I’m sorry that I had to do this, and I’m sorry that my poor decisions will cost you your life, but you have a virgin soul inside of you, one that will guarantee my soul’s safety. Hopefully by the time you read this, Ba’al would be there to collect what I promised, two souls for the price of one…he called it “one hell of a deal.”
Love,
Benjamin