"Gah!" Alfred shot up from his pillow, his face numb from the cold. Upon further inspection he realized he had been crying. "Not again" he sighed as he glanced over to his clock.

3:00am.

For the past three weeks every night at 3:00am, Alfred had awoken with tears streaming down his face. A reoccurring dream that seemed all too real was the cause for his unrest. He sat there quietly for a few moments, staring a hole into his wall.

"Why do I keep having that dream?" he thought as he rubbed the back of his neck. He reached over to his dresser, grabbing his glasses that a somehow shifted positions since he last placed them there. After resting them comfortably on his face, he neatly pushed the silky covers aside, and rose from his bed. He hated the feeling of dried up tears on his face, so he decided to wander over to his bathroom to wash them away, also hoping the sudden burst of water would help settle his uneasy mind.

Once he arrived at the bathroom door, he noticed a light shining through the crack near the wooden floor. While the average homeowner would find a stray light left on to be normal, Alfred found it rather ominous. Every night he made sure every door was good and shut and that every light was turned off before drifting off to sleep, and he was certain he had done this routine that same evening.

As he slowly pushed the door open, Alfred stopped dead in his tracks when he noticed something written on the bathroom mirror in crimson letters.

February 13th

Alfred stood there in shock as he stared at the bleeding letters. "What the hell." he said as his mind began to race. After a few moments of disbelief, he rushed out of the bathroom, slamming the door behind him.

He raced back to his bedroom, his sock covered feet sliding against the polished wood floor as he scooted to a stop. While he didn't believe in ghosts and that none sense, this was a different kind of paranormal activity that seemed all too real. He had to assure himself that last night really was just a dream.

A calendar would be his savior, and luckily for him he owned several. He just wasn't sure where they were at. In frantic desperation, he flung open every drawer and cabinet in sight, spilling every article inside onto the clean floor.

After successfully digging through years worth of junk he finally found it. He quickly flipped to February running his fingers across the weeks until he hit the current date.

Friday, February the 13th.

Dropping the calander to the floor, Alfred realized the horrendous truth. He closed his eyes as he aggressively tugged at his hair. "No, it can't be..." he shouted as he paced back and forth, "it was just a stupid dre-" before he could finish his thought, he was immediately interrupted by an all too familiar voice.

"Oh but it wasn't."

Alfred's eyes shot open as he frantically searched his room for the owner of the voice. A menacing laugh filled the air. "The time has come hero. Don't bother trying to fight it."

Alfred continued to search, but was still unsuccessful. He slowly backed himself into a corner as his mind raced with fear. Then he finally spoke. "Who are you, and what do you want from me?" he demanded as he still continued to scan the room for a trace of anything.

The voice chuckled, "You mean you don't remember? Wow. How could you possibly forget?" A swift breeze blew through the room, causing Alfred's hair to brush against his face.

A door slammed open in the distance, followed by an even stronger gust of wind. "If you really don't remember, go back to the bathroom." Alfred hesitantly took a few steps away from the door frame, not wanting to go anywhere near the bathroom.

A laugh filled the room once again, this time as if to mock the petrified American. "Is this truly the hero that traded his soul to save the life of that back-stabbing son of a bitch?" The voice scoffed, "What a pity. We thought you'd actually put up a fight..."

Alfred's eyes flashed wide in realization. He now understood that the events of his dream, were not in fact a dream, but the hard truth that is reality. "S-so, it really wasn't a dream" he stated as his fists clenched in pain. Tears began to pool in his eyes, but he was unable to let them fall. Now was not the time for crying.

"Of course it wasn't a dream!" the voice roared, "You honestly think that something as serious as this wouldn't actually affect you?"

Alfred shut his eyes once more as he recalled the events of his "dream." While last nights dream was almost identical to the others, he remembered that there had been a different outcome for this one. An outcome that he now had to face the consequences for.

After a moment of panic, his mind finally settled, as an idea slowly started to take shape.

With his head tilted towards the floor, Alfred spoke up with a tone of utter seriousness. "Before you speak again, know that I am not denying my action in last nights events." He opened his eyes again, with only a look of self sacrifice reflecting to the nothing that patiently listened. "While it seemed like merely a dream to me, now that it is reality I am still just as willing to make the same decision."

He took in a heavy breath as he continued his thought, "And while I know I cannot change what is to come, I would like to make you an offer." A dark shadow slowly faded in front of him, causing his heart to jump. Even with this, he kept his face straight to show the being he was serious and willing to bargain if it were up to it.

The dark mass grew closer to his ears whispering, "A deal is a deal Jones. We told you we would come for your soul tonight." Alfred stepped through the figure, making his way back over to his nightstand, the creature lurking closely behind. He reached for a picture frame positioned next to his bed as he spoke once again, "And that's exactly what I would like to change."

"You think you can simply change the deal you made with us?" the voices questioned.

Alfred looked down to the picture neatly sitting inside of the gold trimmed frame. In all honestly he didn't think he'd be able to "simply" change his fate, but he sure as hell was going to try. "I said I was willing to make a deal with you, did I not?" he question as he let his fingers softly caress the frame.

The shadow inched closer to Alfred, slightly growing in size. "And what kind of a deal would that be?"

Alfred smirked. Perhaps he could reason with this unholy apparition. "You said you came for my soul right?" He looked straight into the center of the mass, eyes fixed in an unbreakable trance. "Well what if I let you take not just my soul, but my body as well?"

The black shadow began to contort at the sound of the newly offered price. Slowly it began to take the shape of that similar to a human body. "Hmm, and what would you like in return for your... precious body?"

Without stuttering he sharply responded to the figure, "I want you to give me until the end of this month before you return to take what I owe you."

The silhouette took a few steps towards Alfred, with something resembling a smile on its featureless face. "And is that all?" it hissed.

Alfred nodded, extending his arm to the creature. "You have my word."

An arm branched out from the black mass accepting Alfred's out reached hand. "Well , it seems as though you have yourself a deal." Their hands shook one another as a power surge raced through the house, exciting every light and electronic.

The body slowly began to dissolve once more into an undefined shape, steadily inching away from the cold faced American. "Alright hero, you have until the end of February until I return once more. On that day at exactly three in the morning, I shall be back to collect your end of the deal." Alfred took in another deep breath, helping to give him the assurance that he was making the right decision. The voiced continued, as its body began to disappear, "And remember, the next time I come. You won't be able to buy anymore time."

As soon as the mass completely vanished, winds with the strength of a small tornado filled the room. Alfred dropped to his knees clinging on to the picture he had been holding for so long. The objects recently hurled onto the floor flew around him, all neatly returning to their respective locations. Then without warning, the lights shut off leaving him in complete darkness. The only thing left on the ground was the god forsaken calendar that revealed the current date.

Alfred sat there frozen for a few moments as he gathered his thoughts. He unwrapped his arms from the picture which was still clutched in his now trembling hands. He stared at the photo as tears rained upon the glass. The lights finally turned back on, giving him some relief. As he shakily rose back onto his feet, the sound of dripping water could be heard in the distance.

Alfred left his room to inspect the newly discovered noise, tracing speckles of red on the floor back towards his bathroom. Once he reached the door, he paused not truly wanting to see the horror that awaited him inside. He moved his hand to flip the light switch, revealing freshly written letters dripping from the mirror in a dark crimson. His eyes opened in shock as he processed the meaning of the new date.

February 29th

His vision grew blurry the longer he stared. He took a few steps out of the bathroom, heading back for his room until all of a sudden he collapsed. The last word to leave his mouth was the number "sixteen."

(Story also available on Wattpad, by Iris_Woodmont)