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Soul's Worth.
Synopsis: Bob sells his soul to the devil for twenty years of wealth and power. But will he happily keep his end of the deal?.
Bob sat on the terrace of his two storeyed building. This house was not his favourite because of its size or beauty. He favoured it above his other houses because of its great view. On one side, he could see the road with cars coming and going, people struggling to get into buses and the frequent traffic congestions. On the other side was a path that led to a great forest, punctuated by mighty hills. This was land on which the owners were not yet ready to work. The view this house provided was for him, a beautiful contrast between the rural and romantic and the urban and metropolitan.
As he sipped his rich red wine from his exquisite glass cup, he was finding it more and more difficult to come to grip with the fact that this lovely evening was going to be his last on earth. He could not believe that this was the last time he would feel the lulling evening wind hit his face and see the birds serenading while flying across his roof on their way to their abode in the trees. He could not believe that this was his last night and people on the streets still went about their daily businesses. How could they, when he, Bob, the billionaire was on the verge of crossing to the great beyond?. He was sure that they would still go about their businesses as usual tomorrow, after his death. When they heard of his death, they would make sounds of astonishment, shake their heads, contort their stupid faces and make ignorant speculations as to the cause of his death. Bastards!, he thought, every one of them.
He took another sip of his wine, rinsing every corner of his mouth, savouring every minute detail of its taste , even after it had gone past his throat. He gazed upwards and at that point, caught sight of a group of birds , flying homwards to the trees. He at that moment, wished that he was one of those birds, flying free, without a soul and without a care in the world.
He did not regret selling his soul, no. If he had a thousand more souls, he would sell them all to the devil for more money and more power. His only regret that he had only one soul, which he had sold, and the time of pleasure he sold it for had run out.
At that point, he heard footsteps behind him.
'Bob Bob', he heard. Only one person called his name like that.
'Speak of the devil', he said dryly without turning.
The devil gave a deep chuckle. This joke always got him.
'The day is not over yet is it?', asked Bob, without turning.
'No, Bob, it isn't, said the devil, you have about five hours to go'.
'You have come to mock me haven't you?', you scounderel.
'No, my dear', said the devil in mock denial.
'Why then are you here?'
'I came for my meal, the misery of foolish souls when they realise their folly'.
Bob turned to look at the devil who as usual, looked the very polar opposite of a fiend. He as usual, looked as dashing and charming as ever in his well tailored suit. Bob looked into his dark eyes and thought he could see something which he had never seen before - they shone in triumph.
'I don't regret my choice', said Bob
'I know', said the devil.
'I have fulfilled all my fantasies'
'Oh have you?', asked the devil in a tone pregnant with mockery.
'You seem to hold a different view, said Bob, why is that?'
'Oh, said the devil, I just find it strange that you claim to have fulfilled all your fantasies and yet, you are quite reluctant to die tonight'.
Bob at that point realised that even then, his mind was spinning out new fantasies, begging to be fulfilled.
'What is my soul worth to you anyway?', asked Bob.
'Eternity', replied the devil without the slightest hesitation.
'I could repent even now you know, said Bob. God will forgive me if I pray to him'.
'You are begining to bore me Bob, said the devil. I would love to watch you try but I have better things to do. Adieu, my friend', and with that, the devil morphed into thin air.
Bob took another sip of his drink. It was suddenly tasteless, almost nauseating. He spat it out and stood up. This could not be real, he could not die tonight. The contract he had signed flashed before his eyes. Twenty years, it had said, and tonight marked the end of the twentieth year. He looked up to heaven and opened his lips to pray, but he stopped midway through the first word. He almost burst out laughing at himself. His heart did not feel sorry for what he had done, he was only sorry that he was going to die tonight. If only he had ten thousand souls!.
He walked into his house, taking in every detail of his luxurious sitting room- he may be seeing it for the last time after all. He turned on the television and tried to watch the news, but all he could hear was the ticking of his giant clock. He turned off the television, it was 10 o clock. He called his houseboy and instructed him to check on him in the morning, then he retired to his bedroom and lay down on his king sized bed. No, he didn't make a deal with the devil, he never saw him ever. The devil was a cosmic hoax as his philosophy lecturer had said in the university. He had never talked with the devil, it was just his stupid mind playing tricks on him, he had read Doctor Faustus too many times and watched too many horror movies. For now, he must sleep, he was going to wake up the tomorrow morning, laughing his ass off at these stupid thoughts he was having. He reached for his locker, took out the most powerful sleeping pills and swallowed them.
Bob sat on the terrace of his two storeyed building. This house was not his favourite because of its size or beauty. He favoured it above his other houses because of its great view. On one side, he could see the road with cars coming and going, people struggling to get into buses and the frequent traffic congestions. On the other side was a path that led to a great forest, punctuated by mighty hills. This was land on which the owners were not yet ready to work. The view this house provided was for him, a beautiful contrast between the rural and romantic and the urban and metropolitan.
As he sipped his rich red wine from his exquisite glass cup, he was finding it more and more difficult to come to grip with the fact that this lovely evening was going to be his last on earth. He could not believe that this was the last time he would feel the lulling evening wind hit his face and see the birds serenading while flying across his roof on their way to their abode in the trees. He could not believe that this was his last night and people on the streets still went about their daily businesses. How could they, when he, Bob, the billionaire was on the verge of crossing to the great beyond?. He was sure that they would still go about their businesses as usual tomorrow, after his death. When they heard of his death, they would make sounds of astonishment, shake their heads, contort their stupid faces and make ignorant speculations as to the cause of his death. Bastards!, he thought, every one of them.
He took another sip of his wine, rinsing every corner of his mouth, savouring every minute detail of its taste , even after it had gone past his throat. He gazed upwards and at that point, caught sight of a group of birds , flying homwards to the trees. He at that moment, wished that he was one of those birds, flying free, without a soul and without a care in the world.
He did not regret selling his soul, no. If he had a thousand more souls, he would sell them all to the devil for more money and more power. His only regret that he had only one soul, which he had sold, and the time of pleasure he sold it for had run out.
At that point, he heard footsteps behind him.
'Bob Bob', he heard. Only one person called his name like that.
'Speak of the devil', he said dryly without turning.
The devil gave a deep chuckle. This joke always got him.
'The day is not over yet is it?', asked Bob, without turning.
'No, Bob, it isn't, said the devil, you have about five hours to go'.
'You have come to mock me haven't you?', you scounderel.
'No, my dear', said the devil in mock denial.
'Why then are you here?'
'I came for my meal, the misery of foolish souls when they realise their folly'.
Bob turned to look at the devil who as usual, looked the very polar opposite of a fiend. He as usual, looked as dashing and charming as ever in his well tailored suit. Bob looked into his dark eyes and thought he could see something which he had never seen before - they shone in triumph.
'I don't regret my choice', said Bob
'I know', said the devil.
'I have fulfilled all my fantasies'
'Oh have you?', asked the devil in a tone pregnant with mockery.
'You seem to hold a different view, said Bob, why is that?'
'Oh, said the devil, I just find it strange that you claim to have fulfilled all your fantasies and yet, you are quite reluctant to die tonight'.
Bob at that point realised that even then, his mind was spinning out new fantasies, begging to be fulfilled.
'What is my soul worth to you anyway?', asked Bob.
'Eternity', replied the devil without the slightest hesitation.
'I could repent even now you know, said Bob. God will forgive me if I pray to him'.
'You are begining to bore me Bob, said the devil. I would love to watch you try but I have better things to do. Adieu, my friend', and with that, the devil morphed into thin air.
Bob took another sip of his drink. It was suddenly tasteless, almost nauseating. He spat it out and stood up. This could not be real, he could not die tonight. The contract he had signed flashed before his eyes. Twenty years, it had said, and tonight marked the end of the twentieth year. He looked up to heaven and opened his lips to pray, but he stopped midway through the first word. He almost burst out laughing at himself. His heart did not feel sorry for what he had done, he was only sorry that he was going to die tonight. If only he had ten thousand souls!.
He walked into his house, taking in every detail of his luxurious sitting room- he may be seeing it for the last time after all. He turned on the television and tried to watch the news, but all he could hear was the ticking of his giant clock. He turned off the television, it was 10 o clock. He called his houseboy and instructed him to check on him in the morning, then he retired to his bedroom and lay down on his king sized bed. No, he didn't make a deal with the devil, he never saw him ever. The devil was a cosmic hoax as his philosophy lecturer had said in the university. He had never talked with the devil, it was just his stupid mind playing tricks on him, he had read Doctor Faustus too many times and watched too many horror movies. For now, he must sleep, he was going to wake up the tomorrow morning, laughing his ass off at these stupid thoughts he was having. He reached for his locker, took out the most powerful sleeping pills and swallowed them.
