Post by Deleted on Jun 26, 2015 21:01:07 GMT -4
Veronica’s bloodshot eyes hungrily took in the busy sidewalks below. Her forehead rested against the dirty glass of her window. The dim light from her window was the only source of brightness there. She had been inside her apartment for days, just thinking. She hadn’t eaten. She hadn’t slept. She hadn’t even brushed her hair. Her starving stomach clawed at her, but she showed no mercy as she simply sat there. Watching. Mind racing. Body still as stone.
Yet even the rock of the earth must move some day. Veronica’s bones creaked. Her stomach growled in apprehension. She shakily stood up. Her feet shouted at her, but she ignored them. Step. Her knees swore. Step. Her calves complained. Step. Pain struck her legs like lightning with every step she took. Her filthy blonde hair swayed back and forth, stopping short of her chin. Her face had no emotion.
Succumbing to thirst, she moved a clumsy arm upward to the kitchen counter. Veronica needed something to drink, and she dully acknowledged it. Her tired eyes spotted a bottle. Liquid, there’s liquid in there. She didn’t care what kind. Her legs carried her closer. Her arm numbly reached out. A shaking hand managed to grab it good enough. Veronica pulled it to her across the counter. Slowly, she brought the glass bottle up to her pale grey lips. Spilling it all over her shirt and the floor, she took three swigs. Then three more. Then she was done. Her unsteady hand let down the bottle back onto the counter harshly.
She flopped back onto the floor right where she was. Her stomach still hurt. Everything still hurt. But it was fading. Numbing again. She half-closed her eyes in a muted relief. Her life was bad; she didn’t need to feel the hurt. Talentless. Jobless. Friendless. Meaningless. Barely even alive. Veronica wished that someone, something, could save her….
That thought echoed quietly in her mind as she drifted away from that place. It was in the very last dreg of Veronica’s consciousness before her eyes shut themselves.
“Veronica.”
She didn’t move.
“Veronica.”
She reluctantly opened an eye to peek. What she saw made her shriek.
“Relax, Veronica! It’s only me … See?”
The creature that had greeted her seemed to have vanished. In its place stood a long lost ex-boyfriend, Paul. He wore sunglasses, but she could still read worry and alarm in his face.
“What are you doing here, Paul?” Veronica asked in a drawl, confused and embarrassed.
“I’m here to visit, of course!” Paul replied. His nostrils crinkled. “Say, why is your apartment so … smelly? And- Oh no! No, you didn’t, did you? Oh fuck. You really did, didn’t you. Why’d you get fucking drunk on the day of my visit, Veronica? I thought you liked me.”
“I didn’t … I didn’t even know you were still interested in me…,” Veronica responded.
“Oh, please! Don’t be ridiculous,” Paul said, “We’ve been going out for three years now, haven’t we? And we went to the park together on … Um, Sunday. And I picked flowers for you, don’t you remember?”
Veronica stumbled backwards. This was not Paul. This could not be Paul. The last time they did something like that had been four years and two months ago. She remembered. “Guh! Get away from me! You’re not Paul!” she spat as she backed herself against a wall.
Paul looked hurt. He took off his sunglasses and folded them, putting them in his pocket. “I’m sorry to hear that, babe.” He backed away toward the door cautiously. “I’ll come back for you when you’re not so … delirious. Get some rest.” With that, he walked out of the door, shutting it tightly behind him as he went.
Veronica drew a breath of relief. That was too strange. Paul had moved to Arizona a long time ago … Hadn’t he?! She was so confused, and to be honest, she was still very drunk. It could have been a hallucination. The entire thing was a hallucination. Yes. She sank back onto the floor and felt her consciousness slip away once more.
When she woke up, Paul was there again. He was crouched next to her, asleep. Veronica didn’t really care. She held her head in her hands. It was throbbing and aching. She hated it. She wanted to be numb to it again.
“Veronica?”
Paul had gotten up. He was looking at Veronica with a concerned expression. “Veronica, you’re mumbling again.”
“Am I?” Veronica put down her hands, realizing that he was right. She had to pause her mumblings to do it. She stared at her palms. Veronica didn’t know anything that she had said. “I’m sorry, I didn’t notice…”
“Oh, Veronica…” Paul sighed and turned his head away. A moment passed. Veronica didn’t know what to do. Her headache persisted, so she put her hands back up to her head. When Paul turned back to her, his eyes were watery. “Veronica, I’m … I’m sorry about this. This was all my fault. What can I ever do for you to forgive me?”
Veronica was thoroughly confused. “What are you talking about, Paul? What did you do?”
“Oh god … You can’t even acknowledge me anymore. I’m so, so sorry.”
“What are you talking about?!” Veronica repeated. “I’m right here! I’m talking to you!”
“Veronica….” Paul stood up shakily. He sniffled and wiped his nose with the back of his fist. “Please don’t do this. Let me show you what I can do. Veronica, I can make your life so much better, if you would just let me in.”
“Stop playing games with me, Paul! What the fuck are you on about? What the fuck is going o-?” She stopped halfway through the word. This was exactly like what happened four years ago. Except it was like she was reliving it.
“Oh fuck, this is some sort of drunken daydream, isn’t it.”
As if in response, Paul looked straight into Veronica’s eyes. He hadn’t done that for the entire time he’d been there until now. “No,” he said. “It’s not.”
Paul prowled toward Veronica as his appearance melted away. His skin turned a rusty red, with the texture of reptilian skin. His caring blue eyes became a bright black, yet as he grew closer to her, Veronica could see small red streaks in the irises. His brown shirt tore and went from classy to dirty, and his jean shorts got messier as the thing that wore them grew larger and larger. He was so tall that his newly formed, twisted horns touched the ceiling. His face had distorted into a snarl of a smile, showing off raggedy teeth.
When the thing came within an inch of Veronica, he shrank to the size of a small child, but only his size then changed.
“Yup,” Veronica confirmed in denial, “Definitely a drunken daydream.”
“Wrong,” the thing stated.
“Why the fuck should I play along? And why the fuck are we replaying a scene from four fucking years ago?” Veronica sneered.
“I was just doing that to gain your trust.”
“That’s fucking messed up. Now answer my first question, you bitch.”
“Because I can help you.”
Veronica laughed. She laughed so hard that her stomach hu- wait, never mind, it already hurt. “Ha … Haha … Haaahh. What’s a hallucination like you gonna do, huh?”
“I can give you whatever you want, as long as you pay me back.”
Veronica was tempted to laugh again, but the creature looked serious. She tried to somber up. “Alright,” she said finally, “Let me guess. You want my fucking soul, you little devil.”
“Correct,” the creature confirmed, “But that’s not the price for everything I ever give, you know. That’s just the ultimate price … You know … infinite money … Having a thousand girlfriends…. That sort of thing.”
“But you still want it.”
“I’m a devil! What do you expect? Just think of something you want and I’ll tell you if it’s worth that much, alright?”
Veronica considered it for a moment. This was stupid, crazy, and probably not real. She was probably dreaming up this entire thing. So, why not make a deal with the devil? What could possibly go wrong?
“Never say that,” the devil said.
“Say what? Hm?” Veronica asked.
“That nothing could possibly go wrong,” he responded.
“Well, if you’re telling me not to, I’ll just have to do it even more!” Veronica exclaimed.
“Exactly,” he mumbled under his breath. Veronica was too busy considering things to notice.
Finally, she made her decision. “What would it cost to get me a talent?”
“As in, drawing, writing, singing? That sort of thing?” the devil asked.
“Yes. Any of those,” Veronica replied.
“Well, if it’s randomized, I guess I can take off a bit from the bill… How good do ye want it to be?” he asked.
“Just good enough to get me a job.”
“Very well,” the devil said. He thought a moment, searching for a reasonable starting price. “How about your sense of balance? I could give that to a demon of mine; that guy falls all the time. Terrible for possessions.”
It was Veronica’s turn to consider it again. She decided that it would be a fair trade. “Yes,” she confirmed. “I will pay that.”
“Then it shall be done.”
And with that, the devil disappeared, and Veronica was sent spiraling back into sleep by some mysterious force.
When she reawakened, Veronica was relieved to be alone. Her fingers were no longer shaky. Instead, they were steady. They itched to do something. She tried to stand up, and failed miserably. She tried again. And fell. Could she really not stand anymore? What kind of shit was in that bottle, anyways?! She tried one more time, lying one steady hand on the floor and grabbing the counter with another. She planted her legs firmly on the ground, then jumped upward with all her might. She landed on her legs just fine, but only for a millisecond. Soon enough, she was crashing back down to the floor.
“Goddamn…,” Veronica swore. “What the fuck did I do last night?”
Slowly, it came back to her. She remembered the false ex-boyfriend and the deal she’d made. Veronica couldn’t believe it. He had really kept his end of the bargain.
Eagerly, she scrambled to her desk in the other room. Luckily, she could still crawl fairly well. The desk was messy and unkempt, mostly because she’d hardly ever used it before. Yet now she had power. She could feel the difference in her fingers- Even though they looked the same. She carefully hoisted herself onto the chair, quietly thankful that it wasn’t a spinning chair. Once she managed to get onto the seat, she hastily found a pen and a paper. It was time to test it, to see what the devil had done in turn.
Her pencil glided smoothly across the paper. Veronica giggled with glee and went for more. She made a few strokes. Long ones and short ones. Wavy and straight. Before she even realized it, she’d made a picture. It was a beautiful work of art- much better than she would have ever been able to have done before. She felt it was a miracle. Veronica would go out and show somebody!
She was about to stand up and walk out of the door when she realized she couldn’t. Shit. She tried to think of a way to make it work. Giving up, she took her cellphone out of her pocket. She would have to take a picture and publish it online; maybe someone would recognize her new talent and not mind that she couldn’t walk anymore.
It didn’t take long for people to recognize her work once she’d posted in on the web. A few likes. Some views. No comments, though. Veronica sighed. She’d need to work harder to have someone bet their bucks on her….
A week later, someone had noticed. They’d had a discussion in the comments section of her most recent work. As it turned out, the person didn’t live too far from where Veronica lived. Of course, it wasn’t too surprising- She did live in Chicago, after all. Lots of people lived in Chicago. The man was interested in Veronica painting a floor mural for him. It was a strange request, but she fit the job perfectly. She wouldn’t even need to stand up. They’d arranged that she’d come on Tuesdays, Wednesdays, and Thursdays until it was finished, and he’d pay her generously.
Things were looking pretty great.
It wasn’t soon into the project when Veronica realized how difficult this would actually be. She had to crawl all over the place, which was a bit embarrassing and complicated when it involved getting downstairs and out of the apartment to her car. Once she was driving, she was okay, but those in-between crawling times were pure torture.
The work itself wasn’t too bad. Just a floor mural, right? She was working from the inside of the floor outward. It was looking good so far. Yet she kept on thinking about how great if would be if she had a hovering platform she could use to stay off of the ground, meanwhile eliminating any need to crawl everywhere. She knew it was imaginary. She knew it would probably never happen. But still, she wanted one.
Every night before going to sleep, she thought of how nice it would be. Her mind usually drifted to other things by the time she fell completely. One night, though, that thought was the last thought before her consciousness melted away.
“Another one? Aw, Veronica, ya gotta be kidding,” the fake Paul greeted her as she awakened.
“Another what?” Veronica asked innocently.
“You know. A wish. You want a deal, gal, whether ya admit it or not.” The devil tapped his foot impatiently. “Let’s get this over with; I’ve got souls to steal.”
Veronica got a little shaky. “N-Not mine … r-right?”
The devil rolled his eyes. “Just tell me your fucking wish and I’m your genie. Come on.”
“Well…,” Veronica contemplated, “I do think that a hovering stool for me to sit on while I paint the floor would be nice….”
“God! What’s next, flying chimpanzees? The hell.”
“It’s what I want!” Veronica insisted. “What’s the price?”
He considered it. “Not cheap.”
“Tell me,” she persisted.
“…Your legs.”
“My legs?!” Veronica paled. “You mean, the entire leg? Both of them?”
“YES. THAT IS WHY I SAID IT,” the devil shouted agitatedly. His skin turned even redder. “TAKE IT OR LEAVE IT, BUB.”
Veronica huffed. She couldn’t use her legs, anyways… What was the point of keeping them? “I’ll take the deal,” she said decisively.
The next morning, Veronica was surprised to wake up with both of her legs. Did something go wrong? She couldn’t be sure.
The girl spotted a cardboard box nearby. Could it be? She crawled over to it and opened it crudely. Inside, there was the exact thing she’d asked for. No assembly required. She eagerly tossed the packaging behind her and took the hoverchair out. It was perfect.
She found a green button to activate it, and she pushed it. The chair floated up a bit and then down to her. It worked! Veronica would have screamed for joy if the walls weren’t so thin and if she couldn’t get in trouble for that sort of thing. She held in the immense gladness as it was tainted with nervousness. Veronica wasn’t sure how her boss would react.
Ah, well. No need to worry. She decided to take it out for a spin. Veronica climbed onto the device and tucked her legs beneath her. The seat was cushioned and comfortable. The latter of the two adjectives was rather short-lived. Before it could even register, excruciating pain overtook both of her legs. Ohgodohgodohgodfuckfuckshit. She knew this was coming, but she hadn’t wanted to believe it. Veronica could barely hold back a scream as her legs were painfully torn and cut away from her. If she screamed, people would come and end up seeing how badly she had taken care of her apartment. They’d kick her out for good. So she bit her tongue.
There should have been blood.
There wasn’t. Her legs were now stumps, but they had newly grown skin over them. Her old legs had simply vanished. The devil had taken them; she was sure of it. Ah, but it was okay. She didn’t have a need for legs that hardly worked. She was sure she’d be fine.
It was only two days later. She had tried it at work. The boss was absent, so he wasn’t there to comment on her legs, nor her new hovering seat. The chair was useful for painting and not walking all over it, but Veronica hadn’t anticipated how hard some things would be without legs. She wondered what the devil was doing with them. But she couldn’t dwell on it for too long, for when she wasn’t painting the floors, she was making other artwork and posting it online. She’d sold a few prints. Again, things looked fairly bright. It looked as if she could live the rest of her life without asking for evil’s help.
But she just couldn’t help herself.
One year later. The mural had long been finished. As it was, the man had planned on hosting a party once it was finished. That had gotten Veronica some attention. When asked, she’d said that her legs were lost in an accident, and that her hovering chair was issued to her by her doctor. “It looks like it’s floating,” she’d say, “But there are wheels, really, they’re just hard to see.” She wouldn’t let the curious kids look underneath to see the wheels- “It’s rude to look underneath a person, you know.”
Yes, Veronica had become an established artist. She painted floor murals and received good money for it. She also got good moolah from online prints and commissions. She could even pay her electricity bills again without needing loans!
Veronica had everything she could want, right?
Apparently not.
She needed a man by her side, she said. To make her complete, she said. It was true that her legs were missing, but a man couldn’t replace those, and besides the legs, she really wasn’t incomplete. It must have been a metaphor.
Veronica was searching for a man, and looking in the wrong places. She flirted with her customers. She went to wild parties. She was living the life, though it wasn’t necessarily the best one.
And somehow, she’d managed to get pregnant.
She didn’t know whose child it was. She just knew it was in her. She could feel it. And she hated it. Every night when she went to sleep, she wished it would just go away. But her mind was scattered, and she fell asleep dreamless.
Yet there was a night when it was the last thought in her head. It was a night when she had been at a party. Sleeping with someone she barely knew. He didn’t even know about it. But Veronica, she knew. And she thought about it as she fell into her dreams.
“Oh Jesus, I thought you were done with me.”
Veronica was joyful to see the devil standing there, leaning to one side sassily. “Devil! You’re here!”
“Yeah, I’m here, ya bitch,” the devil snarled. “Whaddayawant.”
“I want to be a boy so that I don’t have this baby.” Veronica pointed to her stomach, which was just beginning to bulge.
“Jeezus! An abortion and a gender change all in the same night?! God, you’re a whore.” he exclaimed.
“Yes. What’s the cost?”
“I’m not so sure you’ll like it, missy…”
“Tell me what it is!” Veronica was insistent.
“You sure?” He was elusive.
“YES!” She almost screamed.
“Alright….”
He paused for good measure. Veronica was angered by this delay.
Finally, the devil replied, “Your sanity.”
“I can live without it,” Veronica quipped hastily. Whatever it took to get this filth off her hands.
“Very well….”
So the deed was done.
Ronnie woke up with a big yawn. He held up his ha-Haaand! His hand was huge! It looked like the deal had worked. Ver- …Ronnie was a man! There was only one last test. He did something naughty to see if he was completely male. It felt weird but he was beginning to get used to the thought of being a man. Ronnie turned over to his side and realized what he had been doing last night. Fuck.
Luckily, the man was still asleep. Ronnie hied hastily to get his clothes back on and get out of the door before the guy woke up. Just take the things you were wearing last night before you took them off, V- …Vuck. Girl clothes. Ronnie stole the man’s clothes, undergarments and all, found a sharpie on the floor, drew a moustache on the man’s face, and ran out the door. Wait, ran? He had no legs…
Ronnie stopped imagining that he was running and got onto the hoverchair. He got out of there on his chair as fast as hoverly possible.
When Ronnie got to his car, he realized that he’d left his car keys in his girl clothes. He laughed it off and hovered down the street- Street? No, sidewalk, that works better. How silly of him. As he hovered down the street, he thought he heard muffled calls. Blurry people were swimming next to him. Why were they swimming? He told them to stop swimming. It’s not very healthy; you could drown like that.
Ronnie was going nowhere. He was going, sure, but he wasn’t going to any specific place. He wondered why, but he didn’t dwell on it too long. He had something important to do. What’s important? Huh? He forgot. Holy snake bombs there’s a ghost-infested house! Ronnie waved hello. They stared back at him menacingly. That disturbed him. They had no noses. Ghosts should have noses; they go right there next to their shoulders. He mumbled something about noses being too complicated to dance karaoke.
Something bothered him. He didn’t know what. It might have been the dots. They were chasing him. They wanted to eat him. He couldn’t let them do that because rats don’t fly on Wednesday. He hovered faster to get away from them until he crashed into a wall and passed out.
“You’re a sorry soul,” the devil mumbled.
“Devil?” Veronica was there again, in her dreams. She was a she again. Her legs were there, and she could stand. “Devil, what’s going on? What happened?”
“You’re in your true form, of course. Your heart’s still female. Your legs should have been there. You would have kept your balance,” he explained.
“So what’s this for? An apology?” Veronica guessed.
“Fuck, are you sure you weren’t already insane to begin with?!” the devil exclaimed. “Hell no. I’m here for your last wish. I know what it is already.”
“So tell me, why don’t you!” Veronica exclaimed in return.
“I’ll tell you this: It costs your soul.”
Surprise and shock washed over her. She should have expected this. Deep down, she had known. But she was ignorant. In denial. Oh, how foolish. “I … I feel sick…,” Veronica mumbled.
“Yeah, I have that kind of effect on people.”
Veronica shook her head slowly.
"You know, you already succumbed to me. If you had listened to God, you might have had a chance. You might even have lived longer. But now…” He gave a chilling smirk that sent darkness into her heart. “You’re mine.”
The devil lunged for Veronica.
She shrieked.
Ronnie woke up on cold, hard stone. He couldn’t recall what had happened at all. He could barely remember who he was, nor who he’d been. Ronnie looked next to him and saw a knife. No, it was a pretzel. It was definitely a knife. Ronnie took the pretzel and tried to bite it, but it made him bleed… Stupid pretzel … He tried again, but he just kept on bleeding and bleeding. The pretzel tasted like cold, hard metal. Finally, Ronnie got so frustrated that he shoved the pretzel into his throat.
This was the end.
