Terminal (Terminal trilogy #1)

15: Holy dread

He slide me a piece of paper, already covered in tear stains. It was the report from his file.

He had sold his soul to change his memories, and start his life over. The succubus had found him crying in the streets with a bruise across his face, he cried of abuse and she convinced him to start over. Gave him three years, placed him across the country with some money and good memories of home.

He went to college there, but in his memories of home he had a girlfriend now. He was a little bit richer, a little bit more successful. Living half in a daze so he didn't wonder why she didn't call. He was happy now, and he had been happy before.

When the hellhound came to collect his soul, he had panicked, forgetful of his contract- slit his throat before the hound could get to him. That was how humans got to Hell- a contract never fulfilled. Maybe I should have told Blake that earlier, but I had figured he had known.

"That's unfortunate," I said. Blake had calmed down a bit, but not much.

"I have nothing."

"I don't know how to comfort you. I mean-"

"That's a lie. Uh, not you, but- I lied. It's sort of a difficult story."

"Sounds like it."

"I, uh- I don't have shit up on Earth. Nothing. Okay. But the succubus who did this report was wrong, and I feel like shit now that I'm starting to remember it. I wasn't abused, okay? I got punched in the face by some rude kids and was laying around crying about it."

"That's still pretty bad."

"No, it's pathetic. I'm nineteen- or was. Nineteen and getting bullied like a fake kid in a TV sitcom. Crying about it outside my house and feeling mad at my mother for not feeling like it's the end of the world every time a bruise shows up. And then, what? I sell my immortal fucking soul because of it?"

"People have sold their soul for worse."

"I would've survived if I hadn't, okay? I would've been fine. I didn't have much for friends and school was really dragging me down, I was talentless and I was depressed, but I would've been fine."

"It's not bad to... Well, whatever, right? You're here now."

"When I get back to Earth though... I really have nothing. No friends. No life. No way back home."

"I'll... stay with you," I said. If only because he was nice, and I really needed to know more nice people, "I'll make sure you get there."

"I think you mean that."

"I'm not the type not to."

"I thought you were a compulsive lier?" He said, with a half smile, eyes still red from crying.

"That too. But I have you now. And that doesn't stop for me."

"Yeah."

"Maybe you should rest. You've had quite a day."

"I want to know more about you."

"There really isn't much. I've told what I did... recently, without you. That's really it."

"What was your life here in Hell like?"

The strangest moment passed, where I thought about what I should say, and he sat there blankly, and then our eyes met and for some reason we both laughed. I rolled my head back in a slow circle and looked at the ceiling.

"Alright, fine," I said.

And I told him almost everything. Not what mattered, but what didn't- not who I was, but what I'd become.