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Fiction Fantasy Christian

This story contains themes or mentions of suicide or self harm.

The restaurant was vast, stretching out to infinity on all sides of me. The table, however, was short, squat, ensuring that my opponent and I sat nearly nose to nose across from each other. My heart thudded in anticipation. I had finally gotten the horned nightmare to sit with me at a table in real time. We were not here to sample the cuisine. We were here to nut out a life changing agreement. One that would ensure a life full of glorious rewards for me, in exchange for a soul.

I glanced at the menu, cringing as I noticed the fare. This could have been me, should have been me, if the Satan’s servants had realized I was on the path of enlightenment this lifetime.


Hor d’Oeuvres:

Ardenchrome – baby, child, teenager, or adult

Digit Chips

Crunchy Calves


Mains:

Dyed Thighs – any colour

Spare Arms

Scalloped Knees

Fillet of Breast – male or female (rare, medium or well done)

Innards Sushi – intestines, bowels, stomach, kidneys, lungs, heart, voice box or brains


Desserts:

Skull Candy

Eye Scream


Drinks:

Non-Tortured Blood – virgin or sinner

Living Water – not recommended


The waiter, a tiny, piximp like creature, arrived at the table. The gender was indeterminable, despite it being naked. It had tipped, elfish ears and was tiny. The innocent charm was offset by feet with delicate hooves, and tiny horns dotting its head in a random manner. “What is your order, miss?”



“Um,” I glanced down at the unappealing list once more. “I’ll take the Living Water, thanks.”

This earned me a frown from the small creature. Satan snorted, smoke curling from his nose to obscure the menu. I met his eyes. He shook his head at me, orbs glowing red for a minute before subsiding into darkness.

Yeah, I thought to myself. I shook my head. We had not done the deal as of this moment. My free will was still sovereign. “Living Water.” I repeated myself.

“I will have the usual chefs special,” came the peculiarly high voice of Satan. I had always imagined it would be deep and booming, not that of a prepubescent schoolboy. The piximp nodded and grinned, giggling a little to insanely for my comfort.

A tail whipped out from behind the creature to whisk the menus from the table. Yes, I though to myself, more of an imp than a pixie. I could not withhold the shudder I felt as a response.

“So. A soul in exchange for the life you have always wanted but never had,” came that odd voice.

I nodded my head, “Yes. It is what I have been waiting on my entire life. The deal you have been promising me for years.”

“Yes, indeed. It took a lot of convincing to get you here. You understand what is required in order for this to occur. You understand, also, that no one leaves this table without a contract being signed.”

I nodded, meeting his eyes, unafraid. “Yes,” I agreed.

Satan pulled out a sheaf of documents from his body. I gave him a curious glance. “I wear an invisible bodysuit. I am not naked. Neither was that server. The invisible body suit allows everything to be seen but genitalia.”

“Oh,” came my sarcastic reply. “Is not that modest of the Father of Lies and he who tempts?”

The paperwork was tabled, followed by a penknife, with a large, sharp tip. “For your ease of letting your blood to sign this document. The blood is the life force of the soul. Do read the terms and conditions.”

I glanced at the document. In it, it stated that I would get wealth, an insane amount of wealth, enough to be able to pay cash for a reasonable home in a middle-income suburb. My children would be restored to me. I would no longer have to deal with the gang stalking. In fact, the goon squad of military morons and corrupt cops who had been orchestrating the campaign against me, would, with ease, switch the narrative and my life would begin to flow the way I had always wanted. In exchange for these goods and services, I had to forfeit my soul. I had to speak for their agenda, the way the other puppets did. I would also have to return to fornication, allowing men to use my body. At the end of a predetermined set point in time, I would have to sacrifice my life, thus ending any future opportunity of reincarnating and blocking entry into nirvana.

“Hmm,” I began, shaking my head. “I don’t like some of these terms and conditions.”

Satan glared. Within a moment, a sweet, smile spread across his face. It did not reach his eyes, however. “This is the deal. You don’t leave here without signing a contract. Those were your terms and conditions. This is the contract. Sign it.” A tongue flicked out, outlining his upper and then lower lip, to disappear back into his maw.

I took a deep breath. This was my moment. “I have been talking to Karma.”

Satan’s glare returned, lips turning down. Snort steamed from his nose. Two red horns reared from the back of his head, stretching upwards to infinity. “And?”

I coughed, clearing my throat, “It seems you have done a lot of wrong, by proxy, on this planet, especially to me. It has been your spirit inhabiting these people, especially those who continue to attack me, despite all the good I am doing. I checked my balance before coming here. Apparently, I have a ton of good deeds to cash in on. Your people sewing evil things into my life without cause also enables me to reap good Karma. I mostly earned that in how I responded to the continuing attacks. But you, well, Satan, you have a ton of bad Karma as do your peeps.”

The smoke was thick. Even on his indrawn breathes, smoke was escaping from his nostrils. Those tips of those two red horns swirled around and arrowed for my neck, stopping mere millimeters away from my jugular veins. Of a sudden, my throat was very dry. I grasped the Living Water that had been delivered to the table without my notice, and took a long gulp, careful not to swallow too hard lest my neck be punctured, and I die before I had done what I had arrived to do. I pulled out a sheaf of paperwork from my own, well camouflaged pocket.

“What is this?’ Satan asked, voice having risen to a nearly inaudible pitch.

“It is a deal. Karma helped me write it out. Here, it is for you,” I shoved the papers across from him. As I did so, a paper chain I had carefully constructed and enchanted, with the power and assistance of Karma, leapt from beneath to encircle both of Satan’s hands. The horns disappeared in a puff of smoke. I sighed.

Satan read the paper before him, mumbling out phrases as he did so. “For crimes committed against humanity and El Christ… no longer send your pets after her… be given a more comfortable cell… for early execution of end times… ” He glanced up, “This is a better outcome than what the Bible had for me.” Satan tried to pull his hands away from the paper chains. They were unbreakable.

“I know. It is a win-win for me and you. It allows me to reap my good Karma unhindered in this lifetime. It allows you to have moments of rest in your eternity of chaos. As for your slaves, pets, or whatever they are, well, they pay out their debts to balance cosmic energies. What do you say?” I shoved the penknife towards him, giving him a wink and a nod.

Satan picked up the penknife and slashed the forefinger of his right hand. He glared at me with trepidation as he signed the document with his blood. “You be damned,” he grated beneath his breath.

“No. You be damned. For good. Cheer up. It is not much longer for you, at least. For your minions, well, some of them have a bit of so-called spiritual community service to do,” I replied, a smirk playing on the corner of my lips.

“I should have done you the deal when you were begging,” he snorted, this time, there was no smoke, his soul having been harnessed the way Karma had told me it should be.

“Yes, you should have. Now I own your soul. Have a sweet eternity.” Finishing my glass of Living Water, I placed the valuable document back into the pocket I had withdrawn it from. I stood up, and left the restaurant, soul intact, Karmas will be done.


Never The End

September 03, 2022 04:09

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