Souls for Sale: A piece of flash fiction.

Souls for Sale

Souls for sale. I see it everywhere now, souls for sale, money over morality, cash for character. It used to be so much harder. I would have to watch a person for months, maybe even years. I would have to delve into every corner of their life, to discover their deepest desires, to find their greatest fears and slowly play on them, increasing them, driving them towards desperation. Desperate people have been known to render desperate deeds. I would offer them a way out, a sliver of light in the darkness. When everything you hold dear is at stake, no price is too high, right? Easy pickings.

devil-1654488_1920Even greater than fear and desperation, was hate. Hate blinds people in a way no other emotion can. It has a scent to me, I can taste it on the air. It tastes like charred meat and animal fat. It sustains me. I would exploit hatred. I would offer them the burned corpses of their enemies on a silver platter, their beating hearts torn from their chests. They could have their wars, their blood, their vengeance, and I, in exchange, got them.

I almost miss the work I had to put in, the harder I earned it, the sweeter the taste. Now, they come to me. They offer me their hearts, their souls, their spirits, for a handful of silver coins. They simply want money, nothing more important than numbers on a statement, sheets of coloured paper, shiny pieces of metal.

Money has replaced God in this world, and I am reaping all the benefits. Souls for sale…and I’m buying.

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