A Good Deal

February 7, 2012
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The fog rolled in, it was low to the ground curling around the head stones. The night air was cool and damp. A full moon bathed the graveyard in silver light, it was just enough to see by. The graveyard was quiet and tranquil. A sulfuric smell was the only thing to take away the beautiful scene. Beautiful to anyone except me who stumbled my way through. It was as if it were impossible for me to stand on my own two feet. I half walked, half crawled my way through the graveyard. All the while mumbling to myself, “Idiot. Why did you do it? Because he was your brother. So what. Was he really worth this?”

I had been granted a twelve hour probation to say good bye. But I hadn’t anyone to say good bye to. There was my brother, but he’s only wake after I left. I had no one, no other family or any other loved ones of any kind. The entirety of this probation was spent mourning my decision.

I fell to my stomach and the world spun around me. Once my dizziness dissipated I looked up to see a man standing there. He looked like two different beings, as if he were a shifting mirage. One second he was an older man standing in an expensive looking black suit with a silver cane. The next he was the fiery shadow of the man with a moth curled in a grin much bigger than his face should have allowed. With rows of jagged teeth and a forked tongue-eyes like soulless black pits- holding a long sickle dripping with fresh blood.This was not the first time I had met this man. Twelve hours earlier he had come to me in my moment of weakness. His words like a sweet tasting poison. He had his claws in me before he even needed to speak to me. Even though I knew what would be waiting for me I agreed. Even then I could already feel my skin melting, my bones shattering, eyes bursting in their sockets, lungs liquefying as the blood poured out of me like a river bursting through a busted dam. And the fire, oh god the scorching waves of flames that were going to engulf my frail and already withering body. As the memory of our first encounter and what I’d agreed to crashed through me like a wave, one rife with misery and woe and I began to mumble to myself once more, “Why you stupid fool, why?”

“Time to go,” The man sneered, the expression one both his formed seemed match for just that moment.

Again the images and feelings danced in my mind, this man was going to take tremendous pleasure in my trepidation and agony. I wouldn’t even have the vocal cords to scream or beg for mercy, mercy which I wouldn’t get because this fate was my own doing; no one had twisted my arm. This was my own choice. A choice made out of guilt. The guilt of what I had done, to my own brother. But thinking back, was it really guilt that led to this? To my bargaining and hopelessness.

No, it hadn’t been guilt, something all the more dangerous, all the more wicked. The only thing that could twist a man to do something so unwise, so unnatural. I had done this for love. I curse the very memory of it; the only thing that will ease my crossing is that where I’m going such a thing as love does not exist. I pity the poor fool that lets such a black thing in his heart.

Just as the first of the inferno licked my skin, just as the first of the many imminent pains touched me, I spoke my last words which I wish I had realized twelve hours before:

“I should have let him die.”

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