The Quest To Redeem The Devil's Soul.

by Master Ogon Wed Jul 04, 2018 11:58 pm

With every shot done, the closer you get to escaping this damn life. Your head is pounding, your vision short-sighted. Your mind is in a shameless haze and you’re talking to some old dude about a deal that you don’t care about, you just want some more stuff to drink from this old bar. The same old bar that you’ve been going to for the past 10 years of your life, same horrid smell, same shady lighting, and of course the same cheap alcohol. Every step you take in this shithole, you hear the old wood creek under your giant feet. You don’t like this place, you love this place. As much as you hate having to bend and the small seats for someone your size, this place is more than an old bar. This is place is an escape from “The Thousand Man Slayer” even if the same small men try to challenge you to a brawl every single night you walk into this place because you’re “The Thousand Man Slayer” who everyone wants to say they beat in a fight. Your head is laying on the cold counter, your eyes shut.

Wait, wasn’t someone talking to you? You were too focused on thinking, you were being rude! Mama didn’t raise a rude child, so you should be paying attention to the old yelling bartender.

Old Bartender:
What do you mean by you don’t want to take the job?! You aren’t in a place to be refusing an offer like this, they want you and the money is good!

That’s right, you had another offer for a job. The old fella seems to be super mad at you, his entire face is red. It looks sort of comedic due to his white mustache and glasses, and you can’t stop yourself from giggling a small bit which makes him even angrier. He raises his finger and opens his mouth, and you know what that means, he’s going to start yelling again. Mama didn’t raise a rude boy, but he also didn’t raise a man that would just sit there and be yelled at. You interrupt him in a dazed tone which quickly makes him shut his mouth, even though you didn’t sound very intimidating. People shut up when you speak, you’re known for being someone that gets mad very quickly.

“The Thousand Man Slayer”:
I-I don’t wanna do this shit anymore…

Right after you deliver that line, you go back to resting your head on the counter. However, the angry senile man didn’t give you a second of rest. As soon as you stopped talking, he began. He was aware that you didn’t want to deal with his crap, so he tried to stop the yelling a small bit, even if he was still talking very loudly.

Old Bartender:
It doesn’t matter what you want anymore. You smell like piss and you’re here instead of raising your kid because you’re broke. Someone in your situation doesn’t get what they want!

Why did he have to bring up your situation? This was your paradise, a place where you didn’t have to deal with your situation. In a way, this was your personal heaven, even if most people would call this place trash. At this point, you’d be choking this man and would be hearing him beg for mercy, but you’re too intoxicated to do that. You decide to reply, just because you know that if you don’t he’s going to begin yelling again.

“The Thousand Man Slayer”:
I don’t like hurting folk, I don’t want to anymore…

You perk your head off the counter to stare at him, which was hard to do due to how heavy your head was feeling. You answered with honesty, something that you’d hope he’d understand and leave you alone for. However, he isn’t done putting on a fight yet, he’s still red and staring right at you with the paper to accept the deal in his hand. You really wish you weren’t so weak right now, because you’d knock this old dude out with a single punch and maybe fix your headache issue.

Old Bartender:
You made the decision to live this sort of life a while ago, you can’t just choose to stop.

Instead of focusing on what he meant with that question, you focused on the fact that he was telling you that you couldn’t do something. With your mouth hanging open and confusion in your eyes, you respond. You know what he meant with that question, but it’s still shocking that he’d stand his ground against you saying you don’t want to do something. People don’t do that, because then they’d get their teeth punched down their throat by you.

“The Thousand Man Slayer”:
W-Why not?

The old man slams the paper to the side of your head which makes a loud bang, which certainly isn’t helping your head. He delivers his next line with more pity than anger, which is rare for the old man.

Old Bartender:
You know why, don’t make me remind you…

He’s right, you do know why. No matter how much you try to drink it away, you still know why. No matter how much you try to escape into a better life, your past always returns to bite you in the ass. You might not look it right now, but you’re known for inflicting pain on other people. That’s how you've been living for the past 15 years of your life. You made the decision to take money for causing misery 15 years ago, and now you’re stuck with that decision for the rest of your life. Redemption is something you’ve been craving ever since that night, but the god above doesn’t want to provide you with an opportunity to find that retribution so it seems. Your mind is in a haze from all the alcohol, but even you know that this isn’t a decision. The old man may have presented it as a choice between a job or no job, but you know that the decision is more than he makes it seem. Becoming even poorer and failing to live up to the promises you made to your wife or trying to provide for the people you’ve failed so far. “The Thousand Man Slayer” may have a special place in hell for him, but you won’t fail your family, you aren’t that bad.

You forgot time was moving and five minutes have passed, and the old man is even madder than ever due to his impatience. You quickly try to say your words so the man will have some relief, the drool you didn’t even realize you had pouring down your face flying everywhere as you do so.

“The Thousand Man Slayer”:
Tell he I accept the offer!

You botched that sentence, and you know it. The sight of the old man calming down wasn’t the next thing you saw though, even if you desperately wanted to see that because he was giving you a headache. Instead, you see...darkness. It turns out that you aren’t seeing anything actually because your eyes aren’t even open. Your head went crashing into the table, but it didn’t hurt at all. However, the thing that does hurt is the realization that you didn’t sign a one-off deal like always. You signed a contract, a contract to some weird place called “NGW” which you know nothing about. If they scouted you out though, maybe the money is good? You could have gotten a number, but you either forgot it or he didn’t tell you it yet. You don’t know what you’re going to be doing at this “NGW” place but you do understand that you’re going to be hurting people, because why else would they hire you? You sold your soul to the devil long ago, and now people don’t view you as a human, they view you as a tool used to only cause despair.

It’s not time to complain though, it’s time to pass out and have no idea where you’re going to wake up.

The Quest To Redeem The Devil's Soul.

How're you enjoying the story? This is my most experimental work so far, so feedback is welcomed.

The Quest To Redeem The Devil's Soul.