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Short Story Update

I should have a new short story in the next couple days. In the meantime feel free to read The Merchant Devil!!!

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The Merchant Devil Part 2

“What the hell is wrong with you!?” He yelled at her, glowering at her suitcase and watching her throw random clothes and assorted items around like a mad woman.

“I’m leaving, I’m leaving everything! I’m leaving this ramshackle piece of shit of an apartment, I’m leaving that flea infested bag of shit cat…and I’m leaving you.” She said this part with less force and venom then the rest.

“W-why?” His stunned look had pained her yet she knew, like a higher force, that she would leave him despite the regret.

“I just, I just need to go.” She didn’t look at him; she knew what she would find there without having to look.

“Are you having an affair?” He crossed his arms. She did look at him this time, and she exploded laughing, catching him off-guard.

“No, love, I’m not.” Zipping up the suitcase zipper, she left the apartment unable to comprehend why she had just uprooted her life but she never looked back, only in her memories would she look back and regret.

Between leaving work and leaving Jack, the time seemed to go by very rapidly. Glancing at her watch it read 12:07. Fantastic, she thought, midnight. I’ve ruined my life at the worst possible time. But that wasn’t true. She knew exactly where she was headed. Shoving her suitcase at the curb, she looked up at the café sign that read “Whispering Eva” in bold cursive writing. The ‘g’ in ‘whispering’ underlined the whole sign. Ivy grew along the sides of the sign and evidence that the ivy also grew on the sides of the building showed. She looked across the street at the place she once worked at. She had thought several things but one of those things was that she wasn’t shocked working there again was ever an option anymore.

The Whispering Eva had long since run down, out of business due to The Empty Salon ten years ago but Valerie knew the doors to the Eva would be opened despite being condemned. Leaving her suitcase at the curb she’d curled her pillow under her arm and entered. The place looked surprisingly fresh, considering the many years of neglect and abandonment. The walls looked freshly painted and a faint not quite pleasant aroma emitted from them. The floors were swept neatly and bar was wiped down. The mystery man was sitting by a table in the back, his face completely hidden in shadow, but she knew what lurked under those covers.

“A drink? I’m afraid all I have is brandy,” he said gesturing to a bottle as she’d approached the table with the ease and caution of a cat stalking a mouse.

The feeling that she was the mouse was all too strong however. He poured the ember liquid into a tumbler that was already filled with cubes of ice and she’d sucked it back almost immediately. The burn of the liquor felt refreshingly good going down. He poured her another one and she choose this time to nurse it more carefully than the first.

She stared at his pale face, trying to see past the smile. His features where handsome, a heartthrob to any girl. His hair was a thick, tousled black, cut short, his cheek bones where prominent and his chin looked strong. He had full, thick eyebrows that framed his beautiful yet seductive emerald green gems underneath a lush canopy of black eyelashes. His eyes examined her as well, expertly accessing his next move.

“I’m sure you’re aware that I am here only to serve and offer my assistance to you, so young and beautiful. In need of a certain, white knight in shining armor one would say?”

He smiled again, a grin seeming to split his entire face open. For one terrifying moment, she thought it would split open, spraying blood all over her. She shifted uncomfortably in her chair, aware the air around her seemed to thin noticeably. She took another quick sip.


He clapped his hands together making her jump and a sing-song ring of laughter came out.

“Excellent my dear, you shall have everything and everyone at your disposal should you so choose to accept the terms and conditions of this agreement,” he hissed.

She became aware that his face was more than just human now. His skull seemed to be showing through, like his skin was melting from his face. Thick globs of white flesh started dripping down from his face onto the table and Valerie stared at him, unmoving. He passed her an eagle feather pen and his fingers which now resembled that of skeleton nature grazed her own. She recoiled from the touch but firmly gripped the pen in her hand. The walls of the Eva began to come alive and expel breath like living creatures.

“…feeear the man…


“…aaat your own riskkk…”


Her breathe started to mist in front of her, the air become uncomfortably cold. The walls began to leak a black fluid that she suspected was indeed blood and not delicious maple syrup. The fireplace erupted into thick orange flames that licked the wooden beams of the ceiling, sparking dangerously everywhere. She looked back at the man in the black suit with the terrible grin, blood now marring his otherwise perfect, white teeth. His eyes seemingly appeared to be on fire and still she told herself it was from the firelight that was causing that maddening illusion. He brandished a piece of parchment that was yellowed and ripping at the corners. The contract only vaguely regurgitated what he had already told her. She looked up at the man again who was now no longer smiling. She cleared her throat.

“Wha-what are the terms and conditions?” she said quietly.

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The Merchant Devil Part 1

Alright folks, this is my first story I’m posting. It’s about a young girl who goes through some strange periods of time in her new life and she is living to regret every choice she ever made. Enjoy!

The Merchant Devil

By Terrin Jarrell

Valerie Dalton knew she was going to die. It was an inevitable fact that she could not escape. But that did not stop her from lying to herself that it was going to be alright. She thought she had led a good life, but in her final days, it was becoming more apparent that wasn’t entirely true. At the underwhelming grand age of twenty-four she’d accomplished absolutely nothing in life and the only thing she understood was being a terrible daughter and a worse girlfriend. Thinking of Jack sent a wave of nausea and upset ripping through her stomach. Watching a stream of blood flow out of her nose, she picked up a filthy blue rag off the dirty motel room floor and dabbed dully. She was dying of course, and it was all due to that man. That dreadful man with the too-wide smile that seemed to know everything yet revealed nothing. Wearing a black suit and white tie, he managed a rather old time respectable and almost handsome look if not for that smile, that seemed to be plastered to his face like drywall.

“Excuse me ma’am, I believe you dropped this,” he had said to her with a smile.

So charming at the time but she had felt a stir of unease and an almost urge to flee the scene, flee his smile. Instead she returned a flashy array of white teeth with what she’d hoped was her most pleasant waitress smile and said,

“Thank you.”

“My pleasure.”

Accepting her napkin back that day, Valerie knew she had sealed her doom. He almost seemed to be saying, “Excuse me ma’am, you’ve dropped your life and I’m here to pick up your pieces.”  She remembered leaving work, the time was 8:14 pm and upon looking up from locking the door and leaving behind memories of a horrific day of ungrateful guests and screaming babies, she’d noticed the man from lunch hour standing under the street lamp outside the Whispering Eva Café. The night had fallen quickly, with only a sliver of the sun exposed. The shadows of the evening caressed the street with long greedy, dark fingers. A chilled breeze sprang up from nowhere momentarily feeling like an autumn afternoon and Valerie had found her arms covered in goose bumps. Early fall leaves swirled through a densely thick fog that started rolling in and got stuck a midst her loose auburn hair. Remarkably he was still smiling and had raised his hand in her direction. He looked like a black specter risen from the deathly fog. With a confused smile, she waved back and returned to locking the door unsuccessfully.

“Dammit,” she’d muttered and behind her in just the same smooth fashion he had presented himself with earlier, he said from behind her, “Are you having some trouble? Allow me.”

He’d reached his hand around her and she became rigid with fear and unknowing. He was very close to her, almost a hairs breath away from kissing the back of her neck and she’d felt his hand embrace hers. And then their hands turned slightly, feeling the click of the door lock. He’d removed his hand just as quickly as he had grabbed it. She faced the door still trying to catch her breath, still trying to understand and form some kind of thank you around her lips. Regaining composer with little ease, she’d turned around to find him nowhere in sight. Sweat had dotted her forehead and she’d become aware at how warm it had become. She’d laughed out loud at the absurdity of the situation and walked home through a remaining fogless night.

Looking back at that day, months ago, she realized that was the same day she’d broken up with Jack. Rushing to the bathroom toilet to vomit what she felt was surely her rotten insides trying to snake their way out of her mouth, she tried to recoil to a happier memory. The memory helped, a vision of her mother rubbing her back and expressing concern. She could almost feel the soft touch of her mother’s hand, always smelling of sweet scented creams, feeling the slow, rhythmic circles up and down her upper back as she continued to heave into the toilet.

When she turned seven her mother had fallen horribly ill and at the age of nine, her mother passed away leaving her alone in the world with nothing but a drunkard of a father with no job and no steady income.

“She went. Dead. W’rms prob’ eatin her body or sumthin’,” he’d said in a slurred drunken tone. He’d glared at the little girl before him that so constantly reminded him of his lost beloved. He’d raised the remaining bottle of Jack to his mouth again and a dribble spilled down his chin.

“Git to yur room, dammit! I dun wanna see any tears fer that slut. She left us, she left you! Left us to rot, the bitch!”

Valerie had flown to her room. Her pillow was her new solace now, her new warm hug at night. Now curled up, propped up against the bathtub squeezing that same dirty yellow stained pillow, she realized seeing her mother again was never going to happen. Especially with what she had agreed too. She was back on the walkway outside her work, laughing obnoxiously again, warmed by the night. She’d rubbed her neck, remembering the tickle of his breath like a lover might and she’d realized she had liked the sultry, sexy feel of his breath. It was unlike anything she had ever experienced, even with Jack. Jack. The fight was about nothing, as usual yet that time it felt like everything was different. She was different and it had showed.


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