1000 souls: part 1

TW: light gore and mentions of sexual violence

“Please. Please just let me see my wife again.” I begged. I was on my knees before Satan himself.

“Alright.” he said, an edge in his voice. “I’ll let you see her. Then you’ll leave?”  

“I’m not leaving without her.” I said, correcting myself and beginning to stand. I saw him roll his eyes out of the corner of mine.   

“I told you she can’t leave. She violated her contract. That means she, and her soul, belong to me.” He sighed tiredly. We’d been going back and forth for a while now. It had gone from civil conversation to this after he turned me down the fifth time.  

“What if...” he looked interested now, “I made a deal with you?” he smiled.   

“Well then it would depend. What exactly would you give me in exchange?”  

“Anything. Just please give me my wife back.” Tears started welling in my eyes again.   

“Very well.” A sheet of paper appeared in his hand. “Sign here then.” He handed it to me along with a pen. I looked at him then down at the contract. The ink looked black at first glance but when the light hit, it shimmered a blood red color.   

“I haven’t got all day” he said, loud enough to scare me out of my trance, “and you’ve already wasted too much of my time. Sign or leave.” I panicked and skimmed through the contract quickly. It seemed reasonable so I signed my name messily on the line. I went to hand it back to him, but it simply disappeared. He stared at me expectantly and I stared back.  

“So, are you going to get her, or will you show me where she is?”  

“Didn’t you read the contract? She’s not coming back till you keep your end of the deal.” The contract reappeared in his hand. He handed it back to me and pointed vaguely to a paragraph. “Upon the deliverance of a thousand evil souls to the contractor the transfer of one single loved one from the depths of hell to the bright side of heaven shall be commenced.” He quoted.   

“What do you mean?” I asked. He sighed at me.  

“It means you’ll get her when you’re done and not a moment before.” He said flatly. “You better get going. Not a moment to lose if you ever want to see your precious wife again.” He smiled and in a cloud of smoke I was back in my living room. I thought back to what I had read. How was I going to deliver a thousand souls to him? I had no clue what promise I made, but there was no way I could go back now. I needed help. So, I went to the only person I knew could give me that.  

“A thousand? You promised him a thousand souls? For one? You're an idiot.” She just stared at me in disbelief.   “I had to. There was no other option.”  

“You could’ve at least read the damn thing first. Or oh, I don’t know, called me! Come on you know better than this!” she moved her glasses off her face and massaged her temples. “I’ve been doing this for how long now? And you’ve learned nothing from all the things I’ve told you? From all the stories I’ve told you? The people I work with don’t know what they’re doing, but you? You have no excuse for this stupidity. Mama taught us better.” I almost winced when the last sentence came out of her mouth. Because I should’ve known better.   

“I know.” I sighed. “I made a mistake.” This was the first time I’d let my sister be right and I sure hoped it’d be the last. She looked dumbfounded that I’d just let her win like that. Then her expression softened, and she laid her hand on my shoulder. 

“What do you need?” 

“I just need you to tell me what I’m supposed to do. How do I get a thousand souls? How do I deliver them?” 

“Well first of all people typically don’t harvest souls. When someone like God or the devil does it doesn’t take much effort, but when a person does it...” She squeezes my shoulder. “You need to cause suffering. They need to die violently in order for you to collect.” 

“Oh.”  

“Listen. You don’t have to do this. We can find a loophole. It’s easy. Just tell me what you remember. Or we can get a copy. He’s supposed to give you one when you sign you know. You really weren’t paying attention to any of those lessons mom taught us, were you?” She continued to ramble on, but I had stopped listening.  

“Sis.” She stopped talking. “I have to do this. I made a deal. And if there’s one lesson I learned from mom, it’s that you keep your end of the deal.”  

“But mama also said that you shouldn’t do things alone. I can help you. Did it say you couldn’t have help?” 

“Uh. I’m not sure.” I admitted. “I had to read fast. He said I’d already wasted too much of his time.” I fidgeted with my ring. It was a plain silver band with our names engraved inside alongside the date of our wedding. We’d chosen silver because of our professions.  

“Well then it looks like we’re going back.” She grabbed my hand. 

“Yes, you’re right. Here’s your copy then.” A sheet of paper appeared in my hand “Have a nice day.” 

“Actually, we were hoping to talk with you on some of the terms as well.” she said sternly, not looking up from reading. 

“Very well.” he sighed. “Hurry up then.”  

“Well reading through it there’s not much to change...” she mumbled while finishing reading through it. “His wife needs to be kept safe.” she said looking up. “No harm is to come to her under your watch. And he’ll be able to visit. Whenever he wants. To check that your end of the contract is being upheld.” As the devil wrote what she was saying it appeared on our paper as well.  

“No. You put ‘No harm shall come to her by my hand.’ No harm shall come to her at all, Lucifer.” he sighed and rewrote it.  

“Is that all then?” He said looking up. She read through it again and, seeming satisfied, nodded her head.  

“We’ll be on our way then.” She made a small movement in his direction then handed the paper to me. I signed it and handed it over to the devil. We appeared back in her living room with my copy of the rewritten contract. “So, no immortal or other-worldly help... but that doesn’t mean you can’t have another person help you.” She looked over at me. 

“Sissy, I have to do this myself.” I said. She stood up and walked to the kitchen. I followed. She was getting things from the cupboards and refrigerator. When she was upset or frustrated, she baked. Just like mama had. She was almost like a clone of her. Always cautious and looking for ways to escape before she even arrived. She even had mama’s hair. Long, wild, and vibrant red. When loose it hung in tight curls, but Sissy always had it up in the tightest bun. ‘Looks more professional this way.’ She’d once told me. I was like my dad. Looks and all. Rambunctious. That was what mama called us. And Sissy had followed suit.

She continued grabbing ingredients from around the kitchen, leaving them stacked on the counter by the stove.  

“What’re you making?” 

“Cookies.” She answered shortly. She started mixing the dry ingredients. Her movements were angry, but never harsh. “Snickerdoodle.” She said before the question was out of my mouth.  

“Alright then.” I stood off to the side and watched her work. After she put the cookies in the oven, she turned to me and started talking quickly.  

“Well, if you’re going to do this alone then you need to understand the consequences. You have to kill a thousand people. And you have to kill them violently in order to collect their souls. You could be found out and nobody’s going to deal with these consequences for you. You could be arrested and given the death sentence you know that? I just want to protect you. How do you expect me to let you go through with this knowing something could happen to you? That’s not to mention you didn’t even know what you were doing until I came in and helped you. Do you even know how to deliver souls? Do you even understand the promise you made?” 

“Sissy.” I said. She stopped and looked at me. “I’ll be alright. I still need your help. But only to tell me what to do. I have to do this by myself. For my wife. You understand that don’t you Sissy?” I looked up at her. She stared back. When mama died Sissy took it upon herself to deal with everything. Including traveling by herself to make a deal. The oven timer dings but she stays still. I reach for the oven mitts that used to belong to mama and pull out the tray of cookies. I set them on the counter and turn back to Sissy.  

“I can do this. And I won’t be alone. If anything happens, I’ll come to you.” 

“Promise?” She reaches out and extends her pinky.  

“I promise, Sissy.” I do the same. It’s funny being adults who still make pinky-promises, but mama always said they were the most trustworthy gesture of commitment. She hugs me and then quickly turns and starts moving the cookies off the tray and onto a plate.  

“Do me a favor and grab the good glasses out of the cabinet.” I do. She pours us both glasses of milk and I carry them to the living room. She places the cookies on the table and sits down. “If you’re going to do this first you need to know what you’re doing. Like I said harvesting souls takes suffering. And to deliver them all you have to do is bring them to him.” 

“But how does that work? What’s it like collecting a soul? How do you keep it?” I ask my questions as if they’re all one sentence. She puts half a cookie back on the edge of the plate and starts answering them slowly.  

“Well to collect them you have to catch them as they're leaving the body. They can be stored in one of the dead’s possessions. Usually, a soul at peace is a bit more difficult to catch. They just drift off to where they’re supposed to be. A struggling soul though, they’ll try their hardest to stick around. Pick out a possession of the deceased beforehand and they’ll want to stay with it. Then all you’ve got to do is keep them secure until you can deliver them.” She says before picking up her cookie again.  

“And how do I do that?”  

“Just hold onto it. Keep it safe. Don’t let it out of your sight. Same as a wild animal really. And be more careful with the more malevolent ones. They’ll try to pull tricks on you.” She says around a mouthful. I don’t ask what kind of tricks. She’d told me stories of the careless people who ended up dead themselves.  

“Thanks Sissy. I think I better head out now.” I finished my glass of milk and stood. Sissy walked me to the door and hugged me.  

“Be safe, ok?” she said, not yet letting me go.  

“I will.” I said, finally moving away from her. I walked to my car and waved before pulling out of the driveway. She had a sad look on her face as I drove away.  

I pulled over on the side of the road and threw up. I couldn’t even make it home thinking about what I was going to have to do. I sat back, wiped my mouth, and pulled the folded piece of paper out of my back pocket. I read it over and over again, searing the words into my brain. I had to start now, or I’d never be able to get it over with. So, I got back in my car and drove on. I pull into the driveway and get out of my car. The curtain flicks open a bit as I’m walking up the sidewalk. When I ring the doorbell, I hear shuffling inside followed by someone shouting.  

“Just a second!” then to someone else, “Let me get the door.”  

I hear stomping then the door opens, and a man is shouting in my face. 

“What’re you doing here!?” Then he looks down and sees my face. “Oh, it’s you.” He smiles and gestures for me to come inside. I sit on the couch as always but this time it’s different. “What do you need?” he says sitting across from me. 

“I just uh, came to visit. Like old times you know.” I faked a smile. My stomach turned at the sight of him.  

“Visit huh? You haven’t been over since before...” He trails off. ‘Before’ meant before he had been to prison for the sexual abuse of his two daughters. I couldn’t believe it at first. He had been a close family friend since he worked with my father. But I was in the courtroom and the cries of those little girls, his own daughters, were too desperate to fake. The older one was twelve, the younger only eight.  

“Yeah. But I just wanted to stop by.” I lied. “Mind if I ask who you were yelling at?” I say looking down. 

“All you gotta do is look up.” He responds. I do and he smiles and nods toward the stairs. A girl who couldn’t be older than six ducks behind the railing. “Come down and say hi Ali.” she walked down the stairs cautiously and hid behind the armchair between him and I. He laughed “She’s shy.” 

“Am not.” I heard from behind the chair. 

“Then come out and say hi.” He stood up and went to grab her. She ran out from behind the chair the opposite way and hid behind my legs. 

“Hi.” She mumbled and hopped up on the couch with me. 

“So um, is she... yours?” I asked looking at the little girl. Ali. She was blonde with green eyes and a lanky body for such a young child. A stark contrast to the man across from me. He once had brown hair but now it was graying. His eyes were trained on the girl in a very familiar way. 

“She came with the new wife.” he said and laughed at his own joke. I didn’t follow along but instead looked at the girl. She looked back at me then stood up to leave. I was glad because I had something to do, and I couldn’t with her watching. 

“Listen I actually had something I wanted to talk about with you, Mark.” I stood up and walked over to him. He smiled again, still not realizing the danger he was in. 

“What is it, Malachai? Hoping to borrow her for a bit?” He snorted while nodding towards Ali. She stopped on the steps. 

“Ali please go upstairs.” I said softening my expression when I looked at her. She nodded and ran off. Only when I heard her door slam did I turn back around. “I’m actually kind of glad I get to do this. Seeing how scared that little girl is of you. The kind of things you say about her. I’m glad I get to be the one to end it.” I slide the knife my dad got me for my thirteenth birthday out of my pocket. 

“What’re you talking about? Come on, I was just joking. You know you’re Uncle Mark. I knew your dad.” He keeps talking but I’m not listening anymore. The last thing I hear is him repeating my name. Pleading for his life. This is what it must’ve sounded like when he raped his daughters. And that gives me just the push I need. I jab the knife into his lower abdomen and watch his face as I drag it through him. His breathing gets shallow, and he starts fumbling for his stomach. Blood soaks into the armchair I used to sit on while dad and he talked at the dining room table. As I’m watching him try to hold his body together a small wisp of what looks like smoke starts to drift from his mouth. Fuck. I reach into his pockets for something quickly but all that’s there is his wallet. Well Sissy said it’d stick around since it wasn’t a peaceful death, so I run upstairs to his room. It doesn’t take long to find something. His daughter’s necklace is sitting on his pillow. I grab it before I have time to think and run back downstairs. The second I’m near his body the wisp starts to move towards the necklace. I open the locket and let it enter. I hate having his soul in something of hers, but I can’t think about it now. I shut the locket and hold it tight. I can already feel him writhing inside. I put it around my own neck. I decide that it’s best I leave Ali here. But I don’t want her to see this, so I go upstairs again and knock on her door. 

“Hey Ali?” The door cracks open. “Promise me you won’t go downstairs till mommy gets home?” I hold out my pinky for her. She smiles and takes it in her own. 

“Thank you.” she whispers. I nod and let her go. She shuts the door and I start to head out. One down nine hundred ninety-nine to go.