A Deal’s a Deal

I raise my fist to knock at the door. There's no answer. I check the address written on the contract. This is definitely the place.

"Laurel Avenell," I say in my deepest, most menacing voice. To be honest, I'm not a very menacing looking guy, short in stature, almost childlike in feature. I make do with what I have. The voice and the horns are usually enough to send people scrambling. 

There is still no answer. Enough's enough. I push against the door, and after a few tries, burst into the tiny, messy apartment. My eyes fall immediately on the open window. Great. Another runner. 

I leap out the window, wasting no time. I'm on a very tight schedule. She's easy to spot, racing frantically down the street. I slowly and deliberately rip the contract apart, and she crumples to the ground, legs buckling beneath her. She knows it's her time. She cries out to the people around her, but I am invisible to them. To the casual onlooker, she looks like another raving madwoman. I walk towards her swiftly.

"Your three weeks are up. I've come to collect," I say, studying my nails. 

"No! Please, just a bit longer!"

I've heard it all before. When these people sign contracts, they don't think about what happens when their time is up. This woman would be an upsetting case for me if I had emotions. Paraplegic who desperately wanted to walk again. The circumstances don't matter to me, however. A deal's a deal. It's her turn to pay up. I reach down and place a hand on her heart. I do it quickly, not out of any sort of mercy but because my next soul is waiting. I feel the brief high that accompanies inhaling another being's life force. Laurel Avenell collapses on the pavement. The medical examiner will rule it a heart attack. My mark is on the back of her neck, but they won't check there. 

I straighten my suit. It's time for me to be off. Being the devil isn't all it's cracked up to be, but hey, lots of people hate their jobs. I pull the next contract from my briefcase. James Garrido, here I come.