Post by samael on Dec 21, 2011 4:42:45 GMT -5
"Years of luxury have made you soft, Karl."
Samael stood over a cowering, bleeding man in his fifties. His long, slender Demon Dagger glimmered with blood, red in the moonlight coming in through the now-torn curtains. Three bodies in varying states of dismemberment littered the bedroom floor, ruining the carpet and making a real mess of the place. The man held a hand up to his face to cover his eyes.
"You fucked me, Karl. You fucked me. I don't like to get fucked. We had a deal. Ten years ago we had a deal, and you've been dodging me ever since. Thought you could get out of it easy?"
The demon knelt down next to the man and pulled his hand from his face. Karl had made a deal for skill in boxing ten years prior, and in return he was supposed to use his new skill to help Samael make quite a bit of money. However, he consistently welched on his end of the bargain, and Samael never bothered to claim his soul. The fact of the matter was that Karl's soul simply wasn't worth much. Sure, he had an almost supernatural talent for boxing, but his true power, his spirital power, was inconsequential. He would have made a better cash cow than a meal, and so Samael was lenient.
But then Karl fell off the map. He took all of the money he'd made and vanished. Changed his name, changed his address, even went so far as to get surgery. He'd made it very, very inconvenient for Samael to find him, and Samael hated being inconvenienced. When he'd finally found Karl, he discovered that the man had gotten fat and had a family - a wife, a couple of kids, a real nice picture, a real Rockwell kind of life. Samael hated Rockwell.
"Do you see what's left of your pretty little family? This is what happens when you owe me something, Karl. You thought you could get away with it and now you're going to pay me back, with interest."
"I'm sorry, Sam..."
Samael cut the man's face. He shut his mouth.
"No words, you toad. I've been dealing with mortals for centuries, do you think you're the first one to try and go rogue on me? You think you did well, dodging me for a decade? You're pathetic. You're only still alive because I wanted to find you and show you just how bad you fucked up. I could have just taken your soul the night you screwed me, but this...this was more fun."
Samael had given Karl his talent for boxing in exchange for a very simple favor - he work his way up in the professional non-ki fighting circuit, make it to the title fight, and then lose. Samael had a good bit of money riding on that fight, and when Karl decided he wanted to win, Samael was stuck holding the bag. It was a blow that he was still feeling ten years later.
"You made a bad call, and your wife and daughters paid for it."
"You sick bastard, you didn't..."
"What? Oh...oh god, no! What do you think I am, a HUMAN? Banish the thought! Ew, no. Even if you monkeys didn't stink of your own waste, your taste in women is awful and your daughters were ugly as sin. Your daughters, though...they inherited daddy's fighting spirit. See, after I cut your bride open from nose to navel, I told your girls only one of them could be allowed to see morning, and that they'd have to fight it out. They tore each other to red, wet ribbons before a tie was declared. That's just about when you came home. By the way, I saw a cake in the fridge, is today your birthday?"
Samael had known it was Karl's birthday, and had waited for the very reason that humans celebrated such trifles. He smiled as Karl turned a deep red, almost purple at the story, and clenched his fists. He tried to stand, but staggered and fell again. His right knee was split open, his bone showing.
"Come on, Karl, you already tried that and I made a fool out of you. Now there's the matter of your contract. See Karl, I know you have a brother, and that he has a wife and whelps all his own. I'm willing to keep them out of all this sloppiness, and all you need to do is properly fulfill your contract. See, you still owe me, and like I said I intend on charging interest. All you need to do is sign this paper, and all will be right with the world."
Samael produced a sheet of very official looking paper - it was a last will and testament, specifically Karl's. He'd visited Karl's lawyer and had a new copy of the document written up in exchange for the love of a secretary. All that it needed was Karl's signature, and Samael would be named the sole recipient of all of Karl's worldly posessions after his death. He placed a pen on the floor next to Karl and smiled genially for the first time this evening.
"Your pain will end, your brother and his family will live, and your family can be together again. Just sign."
Karl, hand shaking, took up the pen and signed the paper like a man stuck in the desert would take a glass of water and drink. Once finished, he dropped the pen and looked at Samael, tears in his eyes.
"It's done...now give me my family back you son of a bitch."
"Give them back? Oh, Karl, no...no no, you misunderstood."
He slipped the paper into the inside pocket of his jacket as he stood up.
"I said your family would be together again. I didn't say you'd all be ALIVE for it. You'll be together in that nice family plot I know you purchased a few years ago during a dip in the market. You'll all be buried together, to rot in the ground. Though they might miss you in the afterlife. See, Karl...you defaulted on our deal. I'm owed one soul, to be claimed when I see fit, and now that I have what I want...well...it was a pleasure doing business with you."
Samael licked his lips as a soft blue mist came trailing from Karl's mouth and nose, and the man convulsed on the floor. The mist made its way into Samael's mouth and down his throat, into his stomach. Unfulfilling and unrewarding, Karl's soul was like junk food - Samael got nothing but the satisfaction of eating out of it. He turned on his heel and walked out. In a few days the family would likely be found dead, and soon after Samael would have his investment back.
(Zenie plx)
Samael stood over a cowering, bleeding man in his fifties. His long, slender Demon Dagger glimmered with blood, red in the moonlight coming in through the now-torn curtains. Three bodies in varying states of dismemberment littered the bedroom floor, ruining the carpet and making a real mess of the place. The man held a hand up to his face to cover his eyes.
"You fucked me, Karl. You fucked me. I don't like to get fucked. We had a deal. Ten years ago we had a deal, and you've been dodging me ever since. Thought you could get out of it easy?"
The demon knelt down next to the man and pulled his hand from his face. Karl had made a deal for skill in boxing ten years prior, and in return he was supposed to use his new skill to help Samael make quite a bit of money. However, he consistently welched on his end of the bargain, and Samael never bothered to claim his soul. The fact of the matter was that Karl's soul simply wasn't worth much. Sure, he had an almost supernatural talent for boxing, but his true power, his spirital power, was inconsequential. He would have made a better cash cow than a meal, and so Samael was lenient.
But then Karl fell off the map. He took all of the money he'd made and vanished. Changed his name, changed his address, even went so far as to get surgery. He'd made it very, very inconvenient for Samael to find him, and Samael hated being inconvenienced. When he'd finally found Karl, he discovered that the man had gotten fat and had a family - a wife, a couple of kids, a real nice picture, a real Rockwell kind of life. Samael hated Rockwell.
"Do you see what's left of your pretty little family? This is what happens when you owe me something, Karl. You thought you could get away with it and now you're going to pay me back, with interest."
"I'm sorry, Sam..."
Samael cut the man's face. He shut his mouth.
"No words, you toad. I've been dealing with mortals for centuries, do you think you're the first one to try and go rogue on me? You think you did well, dodging me for a decade? You're pathetic. You're only still alive because I wanted to find you and show you just how bad you fucked up. I could have just taken your soul the night you screwed me, but this...this was more fun."
Samael had given Karl his talent for boxing in exchange for a very simple favor - he work his way up in the professional non-ki fighting circuit, make it to the title fight, and then lose. Samael had a good bit of money riding on that fight, and when Karl decided he wanted to win, Samael was stuck holding the bag. It was a blow that he was still feeling ten years later.
"You made a bad call, and your wife and daughters paid for it."
"You sick bastard, you didn't..."
"What? Oh...oh god, no! What do you think I am, a HUMAN? Banish the thought! Ew, no. Even if you monkeys didn't stink of your own waste, your taste in women is awful and your daughters were ugly as sin. Your daughters, though...they inherited daddy's fighting spirit. See, after I cut your bride open from nose to navel, I told your girls only one of them could be allowed to see morning, and that they'd have to fight it out. They tore each other to red, wet ribbons before a tie was declared. That's just about when you came home. By the way, I saw a cake in the fridge, is today your birthday?"
Samael had known it was Karl's birthday, and had waited for the very reason that humans celebrated such trifles. He smiled as Karl turned a deep red, almost purple at the story, and clenched his fists. He tried to stand, but staggered and fell again. His right knee was split open, his bone showing.
"Come on, Karl, you already tried that and I made a fool out of you. Now there's the matter of your contract. See Karl, I know you have a brother, and that he has a wife and whelps all his own. I'm willing to keep them out of all this sloppiness, and all you need to do is properly fulfill your contract. See, you still owe me, and like I said I intend on charging interest. All you need to do is sign this paper, and all will be right with the world."
Samael produced a sheet of very official looking paper - it was a last will and testament, specifically Karl's. He'd visited Karl's lawyer and had a new copy of the document written up in exchange for the love of a secretary. All that it needed was Karl's signature, and Samael would be named the sole recipient of all of Karl's worldly posessions after his death. He placed a pen on the floor next to Karl and smiled genially for the first time this evening.
"Your pain will end, your brother and his family will live, and your family can be together again. Just sign."
Karl, hand shaking, took up the pen and signed the paper like a man stuck in the desert would take a glass of water and drink. Once finished, he dropped the pen and looked at Samael, tears in his eyes.
"It's done...now give me my family back you son of a bitch."
"Give them back? Oh, Karl, no...no no, you misunderstood."
He slipped the paper into the inside pocket of his jacket as he stood up.
"I said your family would be together again. I didn't say you'd all be ALIVE for it. You'll be together in that nice family plot I know you purchased a few years ago during a dip in the market. You'll all be buried together, to rot in the ground. Though they might miss you in the afterlife. See, Karl...you defaulted on our deal. I'm owed one soul, to be claimed when I see fit, and now that I have what I want...well...it was a pleasure doing business with you."
Samael licked his lips as a soft blue mist came trailing from Karl's mouth and nose, and the man convulsed on the floor. The mist made its way into Samael's mouth and down his throat, into his stomach. Unfulfilling and unrewarding, Karl's soul was like junk food - Samael got nothing but the satisfaction of eating out of it. He turned on his heel and walked out. In a few days the family would likely be found dead, and soon after Samael would have his investment back.
(Zenie plx)