For them all, this I will do.

"Please Sir. Anything... I will give you anything."

She was the 9th soul I’d seen today. Crawling, as is required, along the dark floor. The 9th soul today and the first with any chance of my acquiescence.

“Sit.” I commanded, her body moved from the crawling posture to a suitable kneel. How I did enjoy seeing a beautiful girl kneel. It was, however, lessened by the state this one was in.

If I didn’t know better, I’d think this girl had crawled through hell and back to get here, I humored myself. 

Dark, knotted hair hung from her head in tattered curls. She was worn, ragged, dirty and weak. Smoke had formed cuffs that circled her wrists, holding her in place, but she was not struggling against them.

She hung her head; in resignation or deference I did not know. Nor, truthfully, did I care. It was obvious to me that this girl had fought hard to find a more just solution before coming to me. Her shoulders, covered in rags from a once white night shirt, sagged and she rested her body down completely on her ankles. Every inch of her exuded weariness, except that is, her eyes.

Her eyes were firm, confident in this choice. She was not questioning her decision to be here. No, she was merely tired from the journey, whatever it’d been, that had led her now to me.

Oh sweetheart, you think you're tired now... it will get so much worse, I mused. 

I knew already I would accept this bargain, but playing the game was so much fun. 

“Tell me.” 

“I want him dead. I don’t care how, as long as it is only him.”

“And the payment?” I asked.

“I already said, anything.” 

"What could you possibly have that I want?" I said, curling smoke around my fingers absentmindedly.

"You can have me."

"Oh…” I chuckled darkly, “I know I can cupcake.” The tendrils of smoke rose and lifted her chin, aligning her eyes with my face. It stroked her cheek and I could feel it in my fingers just as though it were my very hand touching her. 

"All of me, willingly." She glanced up, meeting my eyes with a small smirk. She knew she had something there. She was right, I suppose, that would be something novel.

I pulled my tendril along her neck and watched as the flesh of her cheeks flushed crimson. It ran, almost on its own, down her throat, circing back to her spine and dipping into her gown. I watched as the flush spread further than eyes could see and small bumps spread their way over her skin. She was a sensitive one.

My head moved involuntarily to the side, a human habit I’d acquire after all these years. I tried to decipher this woman’s thoughts without using my gifts.

 I could touch her at this moment and know everything that had ever crossed that sweet angry face. I could see every memory, every dream and every nightmare. I would hear every thought she’d had and every word she’d ever spoken. I knew I would touch her eventually. I knew already, I would touch her often, and everywhere, but not for the benefit of my power.

It was an appropriate gift for my position. It gave me great authority over people, both good and bad. Everyone had their secrets, but none took them past their grave. Oh no. Their secrets, eventually, would belong to me.

 I would not touch her yet though. I wanted to play with her. I wanted to know what she would tell me. The game of cat and mouse was too tempting to end so early. 

She sat quietly, looking almost bored as I watched her face. What would she do if I said no, I wondered?

“And, if I deny you?” I purred in my lilting accent.

Her eyes shot up with fear. Finally, a reaction I thought. 

“Why?”

I grinned, toying with her. “Maybe I don’t want you.” I lied, she was beautiful and her soul was clearly full of fire. She belonged here. 

“You do.” She said flatly. “If you knew, you would.” 

“You’re confidence is…..” I hummed. “Tempting.” 

Her eyebrow raised self assuredly.

There was something in this woman, it called to me. I would not allow her to leave, not even if she asked at this point.

I sat up, allowing the smoke in my hands to form a paper and a pen.

"No more turning back once you sign this you know." I told her, far more fairly than I would ordinarily be. She nodded her understanding.

"So be it."

The contract swayed in the air toward the woman. Her wrists were freed as it landed in front of her kneeling body. She caught the pen  and immediately signed her name on the curling line at the bottom.

The contract rolled in on itself as the last letter fell from the ink. It dissolved with a pop, to be filed in the cosmos, a paper contract no longer. The agreement was signed on her soul, written in her blood and my smoke, and would follow her through her days, both in life and after- until I grew tired of its obligation and released her to the ether.

Her fair face turned up with a relieved sigh. "It's done?" She asked.

My eyes flicked up with a  moment's thought, then I nodded in confirmation.

Paintings should be commissioned of the look on her face when she saw me nod. A smirk escaped me before I could prevent it. 

She smiled. “Thank you.”  

Her shoulders raised and she rolled her neck, like a great weight had been suddenly removed from her back. I snaked a tendril and lifted her hand. My smoke pulled her toward me gently.

Her padding, bare and dirty feet stumbled to my throne. 

“You are mine now.” I reminded her. 

"Take me then."

Somewhere in the middle of Idaho a middle aged man dropped to the floor, clutching his chest, and young girls in that county slept safely for the first time in years.