 Tell me what it is you'd like me to help you with. The man in the three-piece suit with his long blonde hair tied back into a braided ponytail said, I, I want you to make it so I died instead of her. I stuttered, fighting to hold back the tears that threatened to stream down my face. You do understand the cost of such deals, yes? The man questioned in response. I, I do, I understand, and I offer it gladly. I replied, holding my posture straight and with as much determination as I could muster. How about you tell me your story? And we go from there. He suggested he had a much kinder face than I would have expected. If I didn't know any better, I'd almost think he was reluctant to make the deal. I was always led to believe that these things were quite simple. Just sign on the dotted line, give a quick handshake, and the world gets rewritten for a one-time easy payment of one's soul. This felt more like an interview than a bartering session. One year to the day before this very meeting was when my life ended. Well, it may as well have ended as far as I'm concerned. It should have been my life that was lost that night. She was innocent. She was a far better person than I could ever pretend to be. I was selfish and arrogant. I never really appreciated her. Not nearly as much as she appreciated me, anyway. She was my heart, and I never really understood that until it was ripped out. Do you believe yourself to be any more selfish or arrogant than anyone else? He asked me. I do. I replied, how many other people got the ones they loved killed because of these aspects of their personalities? Surely this man could see how awful a person I am. He, more than anyone, should understand that much. I knew she was tired that night, but she agreed to go to the party anyway. She said she'd go because I wanted her to. Had I been a better man, I would have just offered to stay home. I would have told her that I knew she wasn't feeling up to it. They were my friends, not hers. Sure, anyone who met her loved her. I don't think anyone who ever knew her didn't love her even just a little. She had that effect on people. She had such a pure and beautiful heart, and she was mine. She loved me completely. That's why she agreed to go with me that night. No guilt trips, no dragging her feet to get ready. She wanted me to be happy. Even though she was exhausted, I took advantage of that. Is it not possible that she wanted to go as much as you did? He asked, was he really trying to convince me that I shouldn't feel guilty? This is not how this is supposed to go. It was still my idea. It was still my fault. It should have been me. I insisted. His unexpected tenderness was almost frustrating me. Why was he making this so hard? She smiled and laughed all night, even though she'd worked all day. She told me that I could drink if I wanted to. She knew that alcohol would just make her sleepy, so she offered to be my driver for the night. She said she wanted me to have fun. You've been busting your ass lately, babe. She said, gently running her fingers through my hair. But you're tired, I said. In all honesty, I wasn't trying to be convincing. I wanted to drink. I wanted to relax. I just came off three straight weeks of work the previous night. It was my first day off and almost a month. I'd slept in that day, though. I was rested. I should have put up more of a fight, but I didn't. I just went with what I wanted more. It sounds to me as though she genuinely wanted you to have a good time. He said his eyes were wide and sincere. She loved you. He concluded, she did. I replied, I couldn't fight off the tears any longer. I hung my head feeling shame for the scene I was making in front of him. I didn't want to show weakness, not to this man. She sat at the table in the dining room of my friend's house. Several of the wives and girlfriends were hanging out there. They laughed and joked about how drunk us guys were getting. I know she mainly took a seat because her feet were hurting. Her nursing job kept her moving a lot. She pulled a 10 hour shift that day too. Regardless of how beat she was, she still smiled. I would turn to look at her sitting with the girls and every time I glanced her way, she was just smiling at me. It's good to see you so relaxed and happy. She told me later that night, brushing her hand across the side of my face. Her touch was always so warm. Do you really think this is what she'd want? The man asked, continuing his interrogation. She didn't have a choice in what happened. I replied, the tears still freely rolled down my face. Why couldn't he just make the deal already? It was close to two in the morning when we said our goodbyes and headed home. My motor functions were heavily weighed down by my inebriation. So she wrapped her arm around me and guided me to the car. After she made sure I was buckled in, she kissed me on the forehead and smiled widely. You have fun? She asked, brushing her hand across my face again. I nodded and returned to smile. Did you? I asked. She just nodded and gave me that half-smile that would make my knees weak even when I was sober. Did you believe her? He asked. She never lied to me. Not ever. I replied. It was true, well aside from the normal, simple lies we tell each other. No, I didn't get you that expensive Christmas gift, even though we both knew I did. Of course that haircut doesn't make your ears stick out. Yes, we'll be together forever. The drive back to our home shouldn't have taken long, but I asked her to hit up a drive-thru. My stomach was starting to churn from the alcohol. She shrugged and said, I could use something too. Still smiling at me. We got our food and got back on the road. My barely functioning hand reached for my large soda in the cup holder. I inadvertently knocked it out of the indention of the center console and onto the floor at her feet. She screamed and laughed when the freezing beverage splashed across her feet. Somehow she managed to control the car after yanking her foot off of the accelerator pedal. She turned the wheel to the side to guide us to the breakdown lane. You're not the first man to ever tip a drink onto the floor. He professed, in defense of my actions, why was he defending me? Is this really the man I arranged to meet? I was starting to believe someone's messing with me. She was still laughing while we were parked off to the side of the road. I pulled a handful of napkins out of a paper bag that had held our food. I'm so sorry. I insisted, chuckling along with her. She shook her head and gave me that gorgeous smile again. You better be glad I love you. She said with a wink, I am glad. I don't think I could be more glad of anything. I replied, we just stared at each other for a moment. I drank her gaze in like the most refreshing drink that could ever pass across my lips. How could I ever be so lucky? Even after all these years, I still got butterflies in my stomach when she looked at me like this. I love you so. I tried to say before my words were interrupted by the truck that crashed into our rear. I am so sorry. The man said, he put his hand on mine, which was outstretched on the table. His skin was warm and his eyes were glassy. The truck must have been gunning it down the road. It crumpled our small sedan like an empty potato chip bag. I watched my beautiful wife smash into the windshield when the driver's seat forced her forward into the glass. Time seemed to slow as I watched the smile on her face transition to surprised and shocked fear. When she made contact with the window, blood splashed across the glass, instantly filling the cracks with deep crimson. The way the headrest from her seat cut into the back of her neck. I knew she wouldn't survive this. I felt the car spin and flip while I watched her body slowly twist and contort in ways that any skeletal structure would not tolerate. It's not your fault. The man said, still holding his hand on mine. How can you say that? I shouted, pulling my hand from underneath his. It's all my fault. Her being there, her being up so late, her pulling over to the side of the road, her being dead in my arms. I screamed as tears flowed freely. I was unable to even attempt to fight against them. The man studied me for a moment. I couldn't help but feel like he was inwardly mocking my crumbling outer shell while I fought to compose myself. I do not believe I can help you, I'm afraid. He said after a moment of silence. What? I asked anger bubbling over inside me. I shouldn't have allowed myself to become so irrational, but his behavior through the entirety of our conversation had bothered me in ways I still can't describe. You're not exactly a fit candidate for the arrangements I would normally offer. He replied, you see, what's you, my rage overflowed interrupting his words without a second thought. Are you kidding me? I shouted, standing upright and kicking the chair out from under me. I'm offering you my soul on a silver platter and you're not interested. I exclaimed, this is some complete horseshit. I belted out, you're upset. And I understand what you're going through. He replied, maintaining his calm demeanor, if you will just sit back, no, I will not sit back. I raged interrupting him again. You have the nerve. With a simple gesture of his hand, the chair I knocked to the floor rammed into the back of my legs, causing me to fall back into a sitting position as it skidded back towards the table. Do not presume that my lack of interest in what you offer grants you permission to unleash an assault on me, child. He said, as his voice grew louder, though not in a similar manner as mine had in giving way to anger. It was as if his words echoed as they cascaded into the walls, causing the room to feel as though it were experiencing a sudden earthquake. His face formed a scowl that showed me a small glimpse behind the facade he wore to this meeting. I'm sorry. I stuttered, feeling my body tense all over. I didn't mean to. I mean, I wasn't. I tried to form a coherent sentence, but my ability to form anything legible seemed a bit hard to get to all of a sudden. If you'll allow me to finish what I was saying. He continued, immediately regaining his composure. I will explain my reasoning. Okay. I replied, suddenly feeling incredibly intimidated by the man who sat across from me. He'd seemed just like a normal person when our conversation began. I even started to think he was not who I expected to meet, and this was some sort of elaborate con. I now had no doubt that I was sitting before the very being I sought out. A realization that made me feel very small. Your soul is pure, you see. He began, though I wasn't sure where he was going with this. What you offer to sacrifice your life for another's is quite the noble deed. He continued, some would consider this the ultimate sacrifice. Such an act would only remove my ability to take possession of that which you offer, thus negating the very bargain you seek to make. His words caused the emptiness that had consumed me since I lost my love to return with a stabbing pain in my heart. I'd given into the hope that I could reverse our roles in the accident that took her away from me, but that desire had finally proved fruitless. I slumped in my chair, feeling the weight of my loss begin to overcome me again. That being said, the man said, pulling me back out of my brooding thoughts, there may be another who can grant you a more satisfactory arrangement. The man got to his feet and pulled down at the base of his waistcoat. He reached into one of the small pockets on the side of his vest and pulled out a tarnished silver watch that hung from a chain that attached to the button that paralleled the pocket. He tapped on the glass with his forefinger and held it up to his ear. Would you be willing to take a walk with me? He asked, tucking the watch back into his pocket. I… well, I mean, where? I stuttered, having no idea where he might guide me. Only moments ago, you offered your soul on a silver platter, was it? He asked, with a slightly mischievous grin. I just chuckled nervously and rubbed the back of my head. I imagine it's a lot to ask, given my reputation. He said, tilting his head to the left, but would you be willing to trust me? His expression remained peaceful and even a bit melancholy, but this was not a man I would think to trust. Still, there was something in the way he spoke that made me want to. Okay, I said, standing up and straightening my back. The man began to walk to the back of the room. It was a deserted bar, in which I met the man that night. It was one I'd passed by many times, but never had the inclination to visit. It was only when I received the letter in the mail, with this very address on it, that I even remembered it being here. There was a single door at the back of the building, which I assumed led to a dark alleyway or even a storage room of sorts. I would be sorely mistaken on both assumptions when the door was finally pulled open. There was a payphone mounted to the wall beside the door, something I rarely pay attention to anymore, but the man reached for it as we approached the rear doorway. He held the phone to his ear and punched in a series of numbers on a keypad, though it was far more than seven digits of a phone number or even the ten if entering an area code. His fingertips danced quickly across the keys and I had no way of telling how many numbers he'd even punched by the time he latched the phone back upon its hanger. He then turned the door knob and opened the door to reveal what appeared to be a darkly lit cavern. He strolled through without hesitation and stood on the other side looking back at me with his arms behind his back. Do be sure to close the door behind you on your way out. He stated, In the months after she died, I became obsessed with finding any means of changing our fates. I'd wept and prayed every night since I lost her, though I'd never been a man of faith. I just grasped at anything, whether reasonable or free from any semblance of reason. After giving into the fact that seeking assistance from above was entirely pointless, I sought out far more unsettling methods of reversing my mistakes, even if it would cost me my soul in return. The cavern was massive. I could barely even make out the ceiling as it was so high above and only the torches that were mounted sporadically across the walls provided any source of light. The man didn't speak as he strolled ahead of me with his right hand placed in his left behind his back. Our footsteps didn't seem to cause any sort of echo and I could barely even make out any sounds other than my own breathing as I walked behind my well-dressed guide. I was bordering on giving into insanity while I visited everything from libraries to back alley bookshops searching for supernatural means of switching the fates of my love and I. Though I wasn't a believer, I'd always held a fondness for tales of the paranormal. Perhaps it was sheer madness that fueled my search, but my obsession had driven me to such lengths. I even sought out anything I could find on how to access the dark web when the strange email arrived in my inbox. The long walk came to an end and I found myself standing in front of a giant room. It was circular in its design and a lone individual sat upon an elegant throne in the center of the room surrounded by a seemingly endless configuration of floating hourglasses of all shapes and sizes. Some were elegant and lined with delicate filigree while others were downright plain and simple. Some were wide, some were tall, but there were far too many to even register. It was as though they filled the entire chamber with the exception of a thin pathway that led to a sitting man. He was tall, far taller than anyone I'd ever seen. He wore a thick and tattered robe that revealed only his large hands and a pointed white beard that hung from under the hood that was covering the upper half of his mouth. He seemed indifferent to our arrival at first. How are you, my old friend? The man bellowed in a voice that sounded ancient. I'm well, Janice, and you? My guide asked in return. I'm well, though curious as to what brings you here with such a guest by your side. The man who was apparently named Janice replied, May I speak with you privately for a moment? The man who led me here asked, We would be private. Were it not for the company you keep? Janice said, But you may approach. My guide walked up to the giant man who leaned over to hear what his guest had to say. He couldn't make out a word that was spoken between the two, but their conversation seemed heated and bordering on intense. The email came from an unknown address, and it contained nothing more than a single paragraph that ended with an address. It read, Dear sir or madam, it has come to our attention, that you have been in search of making a very specific manner of arrangement. Should your conviction to this cause be true, please send a letter to the following address, stating the nature of your request, along with a drop of blood next to your signature. Your reply must be handwritten in ink. Any type of response will be ignored. Should your request be of interest to us, you will receive instructions by mail. Thank you for your interest. I will not include the address that was listed, but you get the idea. The fact that this strange message had not been flagged by my spam filter led me to entertain the notion that it may indeed be worth a shot. As I previously stated, I wasn't exactly in my right mind, and I felt I had little left to lose. In my reply I followed the instructions to the best of my ability. I wrote down my request on a single sheet of paper and signed my name at the bottom. I dug a pin into the tip of my finger and allowed a single drop to fall beside my name. After allowing the drip to dry, I sealed it in an envelope and sent it to the address. It took several months for me to receive a reply. I had already long since given up on it and resigned myself to a depression from which I could not escape. When I opened the envelope, to see nothing more than another address along with a time in date of an apparent appointment written on a single sheet of paper, it took me a moment to figure out what it was referring to. That human friend you've been spending time with has made you soft in your old age, my friend. Janice called out to the man as he walked back towards me. Who I spend time with is not your concern, Janice. The man said, without turning back to look at the towering individual in the tattered robe, I would not even consider this if not for my debt to you. Janice replied. Do not presume that this will free you from said debt. The man said as he stopped beside me and spun to look back at Janice. They waged a silent staring contest for a while and I began to feel quite uncomfortable the longer this went on. Do not forget that I am older than you, boy. Janice said with contempt. The man beside me only smiled in a slightly mischievous manner as they glared at one another. After a moment of intense ocular standoff, Janice erupted in laughter, which caused the man to my left to offer a chuckle in return. Though my heart was still very heavy, the shared levity between the two brought a smile to my face. While they'd almost appeared as enemies before, they now carried on like old friends. Come on over here, boy. Janice said, waving me forward while still giggling. Go on then. The man said, nudging me with his arm while I stood frozen in place. I paced forward on trembling legs. I was completely unsure where this was headed, though the two individuals whose company I shared appeared far less intimidating as they smiled at each other. As I stepped up to the hulking Janice, he laid a giant hand on my back that felt as though it could easily wrap around my entire body. So this was what about one year ago, yes? He asked, while flipping through a variety of floating hourglasses, as though he was leafing through a phone book, um, yes, I started, yes, this will do. He said, as he wrapped a massive hand around a small, simple hourglass, I looked back at the man who still stood near the entrance with his hands behind his back. His face was expressionless, but I could swear I saw a slight smile attempt to weave across it. Are you ready, lad? Janice asked, gazing down at me with one hand still on my back and the other clutching the hourglass. I looked up at him and back towards the one who'd brought me here. He offered me a single nod, um, yes, I'm ready. I said, though I wasn't entirely sure what I was ready for. Janice closed his eyes as light bellowed from the hourglass he held. It shot out and swirled around the room and spun into a giant spiral of quivering energy. It flew around and around as it wound thinner and thinner until it pierced directly into my chest. Pain exploded through every single fiber of my being. I screamed out in agony as the force threatened to rip me apart from the inside out. A high pitched screaming sound practically deafened me before I heard a soft voice in my head. Was all it said. Suddenly I felt my skin burning as though fire manifested from underneath my epidermis. I knew that my life was ending. Was this the plan all along? Was this the suffering that awaited me and the hell of my own making? I felt the ground crumble beneath my feet and I was falling into a seemingly endless expanse. Darkness took the place of the blinding light as everything around me just faded away. Just let me take a quick shower and we can get going, babe. She said after walking through the door still in her scrubs, Caroline. I whispered, who else would it be? She chuckled, you better not have any other ladies coming by when I'm at work. She said sarcastically before kissing me on the cheek. The tears burst out of my eyes before I had the chance to take in what was happening. I jumped to my feet and I pulled her into an embrace. Hey, she said, backing up slightly and cupping the side of my face with her hand. You okay? She asked with concern in her eyes. Yeah, I replied as tears still spilled freely. It's been a long day. I said with a beaming smile. You sure? She asked, still wearing a worried expression. Yeah, yeah, babe. I think I just had a really weird dream or something. I smiled back at her and wrapped my hand around hers. Okay, then, she said, giving me a sideways and playfully suspicious look. Go ahead and get dressed. I'll jump in the shower and we can head out. Okay? She said, pulling her jacket off. I grabbed her hand and pulled her back to me. I stared into her beautiful eyes while she gave me that curious look. I ran my fingers through her hair while tears went down my face. I just basked in her presence for a moment. Or I suggested, how about we just stay home tonight?