Fifty Fifty

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He heard a chorus of whistles. Familiar tunes. Old slave spirituals he sang in Sunday School.

He paused. Considered turning back. Kept walking.

Something about suffering and Christ and finding salvation in heaven. Lyrics he didn’t believe… Not until Lucifer offered him free, fluorescent bottles of Moonshine. Money. Love. Promises of salvation. The catch… meet him in the alley.

He stepped through puddles.

Blood. Warm to the touch.

Money. Respect. Fame. Every desire. For something intangible. Illogical. Something he didn’t believe in…until the Devil offered him everything he desired. For a price. His most valuable asset.

Tightness in his stomach as he turned the corner. Into the alley.

The smell of sulfur was at its peak. Nausea.

He gripped his pistol in his pocket with one hand. Crucifix around his neck with the next.

Tink! Tink! The coin flips echoed through the alley. Pap! Pap! Spotlights exploded around him.

The sulfur. The nausea in his stomach. The impure thoughts.

He was getting closer.

The sharply dressed boy awaited him under the remaining spotlight.

Last time it was a woman. A woman who resembled his childhood sweetheart. The Devil loved to play games.

Smack!

The boy snatched coin out of the air. Pointed a fist in his direction.

“Play?” The boy asked.

He shook his head.

“Heads or tails?” The Boy inquired.

“I don’t-”

“Fifty fifty chance.” The boy insisted. “Heads for salvation… Tails for…”

For… Damnation?

A lava red glow burned behind the boy’s jagged smile. “Fifty… Fifty.”

 

 

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