Long before you were born, your father promised his firstborn to otherworldly beings in exchange for power. In a twist of fate, your mother also promised her firstborn to dark gods.
It was definitely the worst eighteenth birthday ever.
“You sold me to who?!” I shouted at my father, who stared back at me calmly over his morning coffee, as if we were discussing breakfast rather then him making a dark deal with supernatural beings.
“You know I hate repeating myself, Donald. “ He answered irritably, “Before you were born I promised the dark spirits of Opes my firstborn child on their eighteenth birthday. I honestly thought we weren’t planning on having children at that time, in my defense.”
I stared at him open mouthed, even the misty dark creatures hovering over the kitchen chair across from me seemed slightly surprised at his nonchalant tone. “So you guys own me now?” I asked them, my voice squeaking slightly at the last word, a bad habit I’ve had since my adolescence began.
They didn’t have eyes, but were facing my general direction, their voices low and rough, like gravel being poured onto a fresh grave. “Technically, just your soul. You should be fine, really. Plenty of people are soulless.”
“What did you even get for my soul?” I pointed a finger at my father.
He sighed, “There was this really great Porsche I wanted, but couldn’t afford.” Shrugging he added “It seemed like a good deal at the time.”
I couldn’t believe it. “You traded that car when I was five! You traded the car you sold my soul for!”
“Honestly, Donald, stop making such a big deal about this. It’s just your soul.”
I turned to my mother, who was reading the gossip/society section of the paper through this whole conversation. “Don’t you have anything to add?”
“Listen to your father, dear.” Was her helpful addition. She didn’t even glance up from her reading.
Thanks, Mom. I turned to the tall fiery beings silently standing in the corner.
“Are you guys part of the ‘dark spirits Opes’ too?”
The tallest one shook his head, his voice was high pitched liked the scream of an infant.
“No, we are the dark gods of Venustas. We are here to collect your soul as well.”
I threw up my hands “Dad! You sold me to TWO dark beings? Isn’t one enough?”
For the first time my father looked upset. “That wasn’t me! I only sold you once.”
Again my mother chimed in without looking up. “That was me, I’m afraid. Sold off my firstborn many years ago for youth and beauty.” She checked her makeup briefly in a compact and then met everyone’s disbelieving stares. “What? You think looking this good is NATURAL? I wasn’t planning on having children. If I hadn’t forgotten about that deal and Mary Jane down the street hadn’t been flaunting her nursery designs everywhere, I wouldn’t have agreed to have one.”
There was so much wrong with that. I really didn’t know where to start. The two supernatural groups were staring at each other hostilely. I braced myself for the upcoming fight.
That was when the Devil appeared in a burst of flame. He was a bit too big to fit into our kitchen, his horns broke a small crystal in the chandelier above and his two hooves were scratching the hardwood floor. My mom was going to have a field day. Although, she did technically sell my soul away so my sympathy for her was pretty low.
“I am here to claim your soul, mortal!” He cried, holding up his fist in a threatening manner. He then seemed to notice the general chilly atmosphere of the room, as well as the multiple groups of dark beings. “What I’d miss?”
My father sighed. “Wasn’t me.”
My mother shook out her paper, returning to her reading. “Wasn’t me either.”
Everyone stared at eachother in astonishment, and after an awkward amount of silence I slowly raised my hand.
“Actually, that one was me.”
The dark spirits laughed. “YOU sold your soul to the Devil?”
I crossed my arms defensively. “You think getting an all-expense paid scholarship to Harvard is EASY? Besides, it’s not like I KNEW that my parents had already sold my soul twice.”
My father chuckled. “Like father, like son, I guess.”
I glared at him. “Shut up! I’m still mad at you.”
The Devil, the dark spirits and the fiery gods all faced off in the corner of our kitchen.
“It seems we are at an impasse.” The Devil growled, his spiked tail snapping in irritation.
The fire surrounding the dark gods grew brighter. “So it would seem.” They screeched in reply.
“We submit that we settle this in the Ancient Tradition.” The dark spirits spoke in unison.
The Devil laughed in response. “An old fashioned approach, huh? I like it!”
The tension in the air grew thick as silence settled among the three. I stared worriedly into the group, wondering if I should try to move out of the way of whatever supernatural fight they were starting.
The three groups of beings crouched in unison on the kitchen floor, facing each other. They each raised a fist.
“ROCK, PAPER, SCISSORS, GO!”
