So I recently suffered a terrible tragedy: HARD-DRIVE DEATH! DUN DUN DUN! No, really, I lost every single document and my entire iTunes library. But alas, such is life in an era of digitizing everything. So, I went hunting through my old USB memory sticks and even my binders of - get this - stories written on actual paper! Lol. It was really interesting, seeing how my writing is changed since I started typing everything. But anyway, I came across a bunch of older stories, and I just had the crazy urge to rework and type up a few (okay, a lot) of them. Here is the first of the ones I actually feel good enough about to post. Really hope y'all enjoy!
Deal
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"Dealing with the devil is a tricky affair. One always ends up with more than they bargained for.
The question, the deciding factor, is not whether one can avoid the flames, but rather, if the burns are worth the reward in the end."
The words of Tony's grandfather are echoing in his head, and he can't help but find them inordinately appropriate. Because this golden-haired boy before him, with the smile of a cherub and the eyes of a predator, can be nothing less than the devil himself, come to collect his dues.
"You have a choice, Agent Horowitz."
The voice is so deceiving, so soft and polite and innocently playful, that Tony can scarcely believe it belongs to the boy [monsterkillerdevil] that just shot five highly-trained men before any of them could react, that just snapped a woman's neck as if it were second nature, that has blood on his hands and blood-lust in his eyes.
"You can live, or you can die."
The devil rarely offers unappealing rewards.
"Do you want to live, Agent Horowitz?"
He knows what you want most, and he can give it to you.
"All you have to do for me, is deliver a message."
The cost never seems high, surely not high enough to warrant concern.
"Can you do that, Anthony? Can you deliver a message for me?"
Not until it comes time to pay.
"Alex Rider is dead. Stop chasing ghosts. Alex Rider is dead. Stop chasing ghosts. The devil isn't giving him back. The devil…"
Tony opens his eyes in a panicked rush, sees only the soft white walls of his new home.
He's safe here.
"There's only one rule for dealing with the devil."
He mutters to himself as he drifts back into memories of his grandfather, arms quivering in his straightjacket.
"Don't."
Alright, so how many of you saw that ending coming?
I didn't when I wrote it, but my friend did when she read it.
Kinda bursts your happy little bubble when a few lines into your oh-so-shocking-what-the-fuh story, the first person you've shared it with looks up and says "he's bat-shit, isn't he?"
Oh well. I'm just hoping someone out there at least gets as much of a kick out of it as I do.
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By the by, I did in fact name the agent after the author of the books, and yes, it was intentional, not laziness. One of my favorite authors ever, Clive Cussler, does it in his books all the time, and I absolutely love it.
