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Deal with the Devil

Abusing Power is the Reality We Live in

By Equilla BPublished 2 years ago 5 min read
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Context, I made this story to fulfill a specific prompt:

(At 18 you got your power; the ability to vaporize anyone you wish with just a touch. By 38 you’re the most feared villain the world has known. However, exactly 20 years to the day, your first victim rematerializes. Turns out you’ve just been sending people 20 years into the future all this time)

Alcohol isn't enough to hide the reality of David's sins. David...it had been years since he had thought of himself by his own name. "Monster," "Murderer" were more common titles for him. But humanity had returned to him, and he knew of no such people.

Only that he was next. Kharma had been a lie, a nightmare at times. Just one touch was all it took to rid someone from this world—at least that's what David thought—, but now Kharma has risen from the undergrowth, bulging with power. Its eyes burned red with oozing chaos as it stared, ready to consume his entire being.

They had returned. The people he had killed, one by one, had returned to this moral world. Their loved ones accepted them with open arms, and the world rejoiced. News Articles, Reddit Posts. Everywhere joy flowed like eggnog coursing through Santa's veins— and too so did hate.

Kharma, the beast, was near. It slithered in the shadows for so long, conforming to the shape of its surroundings. It was hiding in his fear. It was there, always there. And now David could see it. He took another shot of Brandy and tried to suppress the beast, to no avail.

David was sitting alone at his home bar, waiting for the inevitable wailing of sirens and the World Power Police (WPP) to finally come and arrest him. It was about time. His power was unique, unfathomable even. It's cute how politicians try to harness such power, giving him fame and fortune just to stay in line—though nothing could truly bind his hands—, only for them to send out an apology letter to the world for not cleaning up their toys and promising to swiftly throw them away. Now there was nothing stopping him from being put away, maybe even killed on sight.

His ears twitched, and his body tensed. Nothingness became something; he was here. Leaning against the wall behind David was a dark-skinned man wearing a black jacket. The corners of his mouth were sharp and accented his devious grin. Deceit incarnate, his ego is boundless.

"Cavalier," David said, not turning to face the figure behind him but instead chose to pour himself another glass of Brandy.

"There's no finer name for chaos," the man said, walking toward David. There was a sway in each step, a casual yet pompous flair in every move he made. Cavalier rested a hand on David's shoulder, his face reflecting in the glass.

"I heard about your predicament, and I must say, that's a horrible side effect of your power. Really, who would think you couldn't finish the job? Murder is so easy, you know. But no, your victims someone came back to life, and now they want to see you suffer for your actions."

David didn't address the arrogant figure at his side. His mind was too focused on the drink. With one gulp, the drink was gone, and now nothing was there to distract him.

"As I say, 'Murder is the sincerest form of flattery.' Yet, it's only true when you are the one killing. It's no fun when the world is against you, and you are powerless to do anything. That's what you are."

"But you obviously know why I'm here," Cavalier said, leaning into David's ear as he whispered. "I'm here to save you."

Cavalier stood up straight with his hand in the air, glorifying himself.

"The savior of forlorn souls! All know of this simple deal, yet no one accepts it. They'd rather be crushed by their fate than side with me. But no matter; I will offer it once again to another fool who shouldn't say no."

Cavalier grabbed the bottle of alcohol as David reached for it and continued.

"Submit yourself to me. Become an ally and aid me in ruling the universe, or die here among your failures."

For the first time, David turned and looked Cavalier in the eyes. They were dark brown and filled with the vigor of a madman. Yet, he was calm, relaxed even. A single touch from his hands would send this nuisance away—and he pondered the thought—, but it would be a foolish mistake. Everyone that has crossed this man's path has either met ruin or fortune. There is no in-between. Yet, the risk is always the same: gamble with the most powerful being in the universe and hope he is feeling merciful.

David was not a gambling man.

"Fuck off," he said. "I won't fall victim to your games."

Cavalier's happy grin turned to a frown, and he sighed.

"Must you think so ill of me? I offer you the one thing no one else can give you, and you turn it down."

"I'm getting old," David said. "I don't have the time for games, silly dreams that make me think reality is something it's not. The one thing I had going for me, the thing that made my life something, was a lie, and my world is falling apart.

"And you come here, flaunting your ego and your pride because you know I'm an easy target. What makes you so different from me? You were once mortal. You certain still have the mind of a dumb teenager, and your every word just proves to me that you are nothing but trouble.

"So I want nothing to do with you. Let me die in peace."

Cavalier stared at this man, never showing signs of emotion until he spoke.

"That's where you're wrong." He slowly moved his finger and pressed it hard against his chest. "I am human, and that's why I'm here. I didn't have to come here. Your life is on borrowed time, yet here I am, to save you!"

"You think I'm immature!" He yelled. "I am beyond your comprehension not because of my power but because you can't recognize empathy when you see it. This is my selfless act to you, one person to another. Can't you see that?"

David poured himself one last glass and made one final statement.

"If that's what you believe, you're a fool and always will be one."

Cavalier turned and opened a portal to some far-off land, one empty yet teeming with energy.

"Enjoy prison, or whatever the WPP does to you. Don't beg me for a second chance."

And then he left. David didn't have to wait long before officers were at his door. He downed the glass and got on his knees with his hands behind his head. Though he was a failure, he accepted it. His visitor, however, was lost in himself.

Short Story
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About the Creator

Equilla B

Hello! I'm a 22-year-old horror and fantasy writer looking to gain experience on this wonderful platform! I'll write the occasional short story about existential topics.

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