A Deal with the Devil

Sandy only caught a glimpse of the hearse rolling through the thick metal gates before the armored guards slammed it closed, trapping her in Hathway once again. 

The shingles of the gabled roof dug into her calves as she leaned back against the jagged clay, cursing herself. She had been late today, and the short brown grass and shrubs beyond the tall, imposing cobblestone wall gave no hope that her plan was genuinely worth it. 

Pushing off with a grunt, she landed in a mud puddle just beyond the wooden fence of Dan Rawling's decaying vegetable garden. The mice scattered, some dropping the rotten tomatoes they had been dragging through the dirt. The blight had been ruthless even with the plentiful rain, leaving most gardens a soggy mess. Now, the summer rains were chased away by the biting frost. 

Finding her way to the main road, she dodged the bustling people and sidestepped horses sporting guards armed to the teeth with gleaming swords and bows. A few children squatted in a puddle, tossing small pebbles and sticks into the muck, still wearing their school uniforms. The stink of rotten earth and trash was overwhelming as she entered the town square. The white scar on her wrist burned, and she pulled up her sleeve. The triangle surrounding the letter 'c' was red and irritated today. 

"Sandy!" Her name rose over the cries of bargaining and laughter. She yanked down her sleeve and looked at Gideon jogging toward her. The smell of smoke radiated off of him, and smudges of coal covered his face and clothes. Parts of his white shirt and brown slacks were singed. 

"What happened to you?" 

"I finished fast so I could warn you," he paused to catch his breath. "Kaiser went near the wall today. I made him a dagger in case he made it out." He pulled out the metal blade from the pocket of his apron. Her heart sank as she looked at the blade cleaved clean in two. 

Sandy grabbed his arm and pushed him between two cobbled shacks. "You can't just pull that out in front of everyone," she hissed. "And that doesn't change my plan."

"What do you mean it doesn't change your plan? This will be you if you climb over that wall."

"That's not going to be me," she snapped, turning back to the main road.

Gideon trotted after her, pressing his shoulder into hers. "Please," he whispered. "I have no one left." The begging and pleading annoyed her. She finally mustered the courage to try and escape, and he was selfish for wanting her to change her mind. 

"You know I need to do this.” Gideon could no longer meet her stare. Despite the crowded street, silence surrounded them. Scrubbing her face with her hands, trying to distract herself from the memory, but it drifted through like a haunting smoke. 

She saw herself crouched against the front door, pushing all thirty pounds of her against it. Tears blurred the image of her mom pressing a soft kiss to her forehead and cupping her cheek, the sleeve of her arm rolling down to expose the matching white mark on her wrist.

"Don't tell anyone about this," she whispered. "Hide it with your life." A man screamed, and her mother tensed. "I've got to go." 

Sandy shook her head, forcing herself to remain in the present. There had been plenty of nights that she let the memories take over, and she wouldn't let today be another one wasted. "I'll be fine," she said finally.

Gideon stopped. "How do you know?" 

Her body ached to tell Gideon about her mark. She’d revealed everything else about what happened to her in the cabin that night; he was also all she had left. It was her mother's voice that stopped her every time she went to talk about the man without a face who carved the cursed mark into her skin. 

"I just do," she finally said, holding up a dismissive hand as she walked up to meet the same wooden door with the splintered slash she'd seen for the past twenty years. Gideon watched her step through the door, standing limply in the street. 

~

When the clock struck midnight, Sandy stepped into the musty air with a bag on her back. Her brown hair was tight in a braid, and the thick wool-lined pants and brown sweater kept back the bite of the night wind. Gideon slipped a small dagger underneath her door early that day, and she tucked it into a pocket. 

She spent the last month tracking the guard's routine, and on Wednesdays at midnight, most gathered at the town pub to have a drink, leaving parts of the wall unguarded. They assumed no one would be stupid enough to try, given the countless decapitations. Most nights, they were right, but not tonight. 

Sneaking through the maze of houses and businesses was easy. Crouching through the long expanse of brush outside of town, she maneuvered toward the cobblestone wall out of sight. 

As she came up close enough to touch, it dawned on her how strange it was that this wall stood. Most of the rocks were placed haphazardly, and in between the cracks, smaller rocks and leaves were packed tight. She hesitated, turning toward town to see the backroads lined with trash and manure. Were they keeping her in or keeping something out? A chill breeze stung her nose as she thought about the slash in her door. Her body began to shake as she pressed her hands to the side of the wall and grabbed on. 

Most of the rocks were protruding enough to make decent footholds and handholds; however, they were sharp and began cutting deep into her palms. She prayed the nights of countless pushups would pay off. Bloody handprints marked the rocks she had touched. Slowly, she closed the gap between the ground and the sky.

At the top, she planted her feet deep on a large, steady rock to stand and leaned against the stone, giving her muscles a break. She gripped the top of the wall, keeping her fingers close. Blood pooled around her hands.

The view was as bland as she had seen through the gate - the brown grass was uninviting, and the shrubs were far between, but she noted a few red splotches of berries nestled in the leaves. Scanning the horizon, the only new feature was a lone tree to her left, not far from the wall’s edge. The full moon illuminated the jagged black branches, cutting into the crisp night like knives. 

She pulled herself farther up so she was squatting, her shoulders starting to ache. Peering over, she could see a few rotting heads cut clean at the neck. She lifted her hand and looked at the scar etched on her wrist. If it got cut off, she wouldn't miss it. 

Taking a deep breath, she shoved her arm onto the other side of the cobbled wall. 

Nothing. 

She scrambled over to the other side out of sight of the nighttime patrol. Her hands shook as she slowly scaled down, leaving another trail of blood behind. The pain became unbearable as her nails began to crack at the pressure. Her biceps cramped as she moved her right hand toward her hip. Pressing down, she felt it slip out from under the weight, sending her chin connecting with the rock in front of her. Pain seared through her jaw, the rest of her grip failing immediately, sending her tumbling a few yards down, landing hard on her side. 

When she opened her eyes, the wall loomed over her. She made it. 

A bloody grin spread across her face. Pain surged through her body as she tried to stand, causing her to double over. A few horses neighed in the distance. 

Wobbling to her feet, she wiped her hands on her sweater and turned to look at the expansive field before her. She wanted to get as far, far away from here and toward the answers that had to lie in this new world. The freedom in her veins was overwhelming. Taking another step forward, her lower back tightened, and her leg protested. She looked down to see a rip through her pants, exposing a deep gash. Slinging off her bag, she dug through and grabbed a small roll of cotton bandages. She began to unroll them, then looked down at her leg again. The bandages she packed were not enough. She wasn't going to make it far in this condition.

Looking over at the tree, her heart raced as she saw a maroon door nestled in its trunk. A gold knob glinted in the moonlight, and something tugged in her chest. The sound of rustling leaves echoed across the field. She stared at the naked branches. 

Sandy sighed, weighing her options. They wouldn't go looking for her, but she had no idea what animals were beyond the wall. The dagger would do nothing against a giant beast. It may do better with one that could fit through that door. 

Deciding a smaller beast would do, she stumbled forward until she was keeled over at the door, grabbing at her side. The maroon color was sleek and well-kept, and the doorknob without a fingerprint. Raising her arm, her wrist began to burn again as she knocked on the door. 

The door swung open instantly, revealing a well-groomed man wearing a velvet suit the same color as the door. The gold watch hanging on his lapel read one o’clock. The corners of his well-trimmed beard swirled near his sideburns, the ends pointing straight to his deep yellow eyes. Her mouth went dry, and her chest went cold. The urge to flee was high, but she could be eaten by wolves before the sun began to rise. 

"Only the dead ones leave," he said, flashing wicked teeth and sniffing the air. "How did you get here?"

"I just climbed over," she said, pressing her lips together. 

The man looked at her long and hard. His yellow eyes narrowed, scanning her body, then widened. "Oh, I see." He leaned against the open doorway. "There have been a lot of whispers about whether or not you'd come."

Sandy could barely hear his voice as she looked behind him. Inside, there were two inviting plush chairs pushed against wooden walls. A tea kettle sat on a stove, and two cups were placed on a circular dining table. The smell of cinnamon wafted in the air. 

"I don't get company very often, but all information comes with a price," he opened the door wider and gestured for her to enter. "Care to make a deal with the Devil, Sandy?"