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The Dark Pact

"Why are you late?" He questions, sounding exactly as I remember "You know, traffic." I apologize, making a turn to trudge to him majestically. "If you say so," he nods, the night preventing my view of his face "Thank you, Azazel," I mutter, my tone neither high nor low. "Why did you want to see me?" He polls, his voice resounding through the dark abandoned warehouse. "Yes Azazel," I smirk and try to hide the slight fear of reject nagging at the back of my head. "What is it about?" He implores his arm going to rub his prominent chin as he fixes a stare at me. "I want my soul back," I inform, matching his gaze with mine. "How do you plan on getting it back?" He quizzes, stepping a few inches my way into the light. "With a deal Azazel, or more specifically, a pact," I tell using all my energy to stop my feet from moving backward. "That is very difficult Xander, you sealed your vow with a drop of blood," he argues, the moonlight falling more on his face as he tilts his head upwards. "And I'm here to make and seal another," I converse awaiting a reply. "No, you got what you wanted, to be rich, famous, and loved, what else do you desire?" He asks, his supernatural blue eyes having a scary glint to them. "My soul," I repeat. "Plus I know you love making deals Azazel, no matter how you try to hide it, I see the excitement and mischief you try to conceal." "Same way I see the little fear of rejection bubbling within you, I detect it in your eyes, I hear it in your heartbeat, and the blood pumping through your veins," he sneers in response, squaring his wide shoulders to come off as intimidating. "Hence we understand each other well, we know you've got more to win than lose, and I've got more to lose than win," I confess. "You are right," he lets out in a husky tone, his red lips curving into a hint of a smile. "So what do you say demon, you in?" I invite, my eyebrow raised "I am," he gleams. "What's this pact about?"

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18 Chs

Chapter 4

Playing:🎶Oh Jesus by Mercy Chinwo🎶

-The Confession-

Xander's POV

Groaning, I shield my closed lids with the back of my palm in a bid to block out the harsh summer sun seeping through the windows.

My tactic doesn't seem to be working so I huff in irritation and swerve my body to my left, dropping my hand on the mattress below me.

Luck isn't on my side as it appears the sun happens to be rising from that angle, thereby causing more harm than good and leading me to open my eyes with a hiss as I have a momentary flash of what blindness feels like.

Blinking rapidly, I adjust my body such that I face the cream-colored ceiling, releasing a sigh as another day begins, less than 363 days to go.

My fingers locate the black curls, causing my arms to bulge and my body to stretch as a result of the simple action. Having no other choice but to get up as I can't see myself returning to my slumber, I sit up, my vision meeting the grandfather clock a few centimeters above the 64inch flat-screen TV on the grey wall opposite my king-sized bed.

I experience a moment of panic the instant I note the time is some minutes past 9 am as I assume I must have been left alone in this mansion until realization sets in that I canceled the leaving plans for further notice.

Why I was scared you may ask, that's because I have fear of abandonment, it is normal when you wake up one morning when you are 10, walk down the stairs all dressed in your school wear only to find no breakfast waiting for you at the makeshift dining table you and your mom always eat at.

More so as you notice how eerily silent the house is, "mom?" you call out in surprise, your feet unknowingly taking you to the kitchen to see it deserted and untouched. Not believing your eyes, you trace your way to her room, only to see the bed neat and all her bags gone.

Your heart breaks, tears begin to flow, you are all alone, no goodbye, no explanation, nothing. Somehow your childlike brain works and you dial 911 crying and soon they find you, your father who has been out of town for three days on a petty job assignment is called, you are left shattered as the one woman who was to care for you and cherish you left you like you were insignificant.

"Xander!" A voice at the door shakes me out of the past and I clear my throat in preparation to reply without sounding different.

"What is it, Charles?" I ask in a loud tone knowing it's none other than the stick up my ass.

"Nothing, just wanted to find out if you are still alive, it's 10 am for goodness sake," he responds and I scoff, only to get shocked out of my skin as I see he is indeed right about the time.

"Do I sound dead to you?" I throw back, finally hauling myself off the mattress as I wonder how 60 minutes went by within the blink of an eye. "I'll be down soon."

"You have 20 minutes to get here," he says in a sing-song voice.

"Okay mother," I say, the last word having a bitter taste in my mouth while I walk to the mirror to examine my appearance, a smirk forming as I admire the manly dips and ridges on my body, making me irresistible to the female folk thus it is coupled with a devilishly handsome face.

I hear footsteps retreat and I bask in self-confidence as the doubt of finding a woman who loves me disappears, I'm sure it won't be that hard.

About to whirl away from the tall reflective glass, my sight spots a black book sitting in a corner of my room. In a daze, I swerve completely to check the location in which I saw it, my breath hitching as I notice the thick object laying unmoving.

With slow steps, I stride towards it, oxygen leaving me when I observe what book it is. I shut my lids, for a second before unraveling the pages, this time I'm certain my vision is undamaged as my hand brushes atop the holy book, having no idea of how it got here because I know it wasn't, the previous night.

I sit my ass on the red carpet, my finger clasping the item and dragging it down with me that it lands with a thud. Before I can stop myself, I raise it to my eye level and with shaky hands open it.

My gaze settles on Psalm 51, 'A prayer for forgiveness' and I start reading, a sense of remorse and awareness of my sins entering my being with each line I comprehend.

Have mercy upon me, O God, according to thy lovingkindness: according unto the multitude of thy tender mercies blot out my transgressions.

2 Wash me throughly from mine iniquity, and cleanse me from my sin.

3 For I acknowledge my transgressions: and my sin is ever before me.

4 Against thee, thee only, have I sinned, and done this evil in thy sight: that thou mightest be justified when thou speakest, and be clear when thou judges-----

Getting to the last verse I change my posture to a kneeling one, clasping my hands together as I rest my elbows on the brown duvet atop the bed, my eyes closing as I inhale.

"Dear God," I begin, the statement still foreign to my lips hence this is the second time I've attempted to pray in a decade. "I know it's been barely 24 hours since we last conversed, and I hope I'm not being a bother." I chuckle.

"I want to thank You for making the deal with Azazel go smoothly, and I also thank You for all You are doing and about to do. I seek Your forgiveness and for that, I'll---"

*********

My bare feet make no sound on the tiled floor as I search for the keys to the Benz, "Charles! You see my car keys?"

"Which one!" He calls in reply from his base in the kitchen, I swear he should have been a chef and not a music geek.

"The Mercedes Benz," I inform, folding the collar of the short-sleeved black shirt that I'm donning above matching black sacks. The only difference between me and a priest is that white thingy on the collar of their shirts.

Ironic I'm heading to a church dressed this way, and now with the absence of that white stuff I look like the devil's son in all black, I'm probably gonna gather attention to myself with this attire.

"It's here," Charles says in a scoff, materializing in my view adorned in faded jeans and a white vest.

"Where?" I implore, staring at him weirdly.

"Here dumbo," he snorts and I hear a jingle as he picks something up from the dining table, and throws it at me. I catch it, noting it's indeed the key I'm searching for. "You must be going blind."

"I would have said something smart but I'll save it for later," I let out, pushing the object into my front pocket and walking to put on one of my leather slides laying around in the hallway.

"Where are you headed," he cocks his head to the side, peering at me. "Without having something to eat."

"I'll eat later," I shrug, my toes secured in the black leather slippers. "And I'm headed to the church, I remember always seeing one when I drive around."

"Church?" He interrogates, and I don't need to twirl to see his expression as I know astonishment will be written over it, so instead, I pull the door ajar. "Ever since I've known you I--"

I shut it, at the same time the rest of his statement, my lips curling at his amazement. I don't blame him, I'm stunned at my own decision.

Nodding to the guards I stroll to the car, unlock it, and glide in, putting it into gear. I make a u-turn, the engine revving as I steer to the gates, exiting the compound thus it is already opened to allow me to pass.

Not wanting to trust my memory no matter how accurate it can be, I choose to use Google Maps to find a nearby church, somewhat preventing the risk of driving around in circles or worse getting lost.

My decision works well for me as in a few minutes I park at the front of a building spotting a cross on the roof, the sign at the entrance reading 'St Joseph's Catholic Church'

Wanting to grab my phone from the spot I usually keep it in while behind the wheel, I notice the screen just dim, indicating I must have had a notification thus I didn't heed it ring.

I snatch it from its position and leave the car after turning off the ignition, my appearance attracting notice from the few people around me, significantly as I bang the door shut, the automatic lock doing its job.

Smiling slightly in acknowledgment at them, I climb the flight of stairs leading into the building with fading yellow paint, a strong feeling reaching my insides as I take in the signature wooden chairs on either side of me, a pathway where I'm standing that leads to the altar.

My eyes follow it. The moment my orbs meet the image of Jesus Christ as he was nailed on the cross, I make a quick bow and skid my phone into my breast pocket. Glancing around me I note people sitting close to the altar.

I walk in that direction, my vision citing not more than 4 men and 3 women. 2 of the men are of middle age, same as the 3 women, 1 other man who should be in his late 70's, and a guy presumably in his 30s.

"Excuse me," I whisper making my presence known, they all turn at the sound of my voice. "Is the confession session ongoing?"

"Yes lad," the old man affirms in a wrinkly smile, while the young guy winks at me.

"Someone is in there at the moment, we are all waiting in line," one of the women who is blonde beams at me, and points in the location of someone kneeling in a niche a reasonable distance from us.

"Thank you," I nod, flashing her a grin and sitting beside another woman, this one a redhead.

"It's good to see young men like you so invested in the things of God," she nudges me, a happy glint in her brown eyes.

If only you knew, I say in my head and hum in retort at her sentence, the hard surface of the sit not corresponding with my butt cheeks as I suddenly feel uncomfortable but I suck it up, I'm here for a reason.

That is what I do, and soon, it's my turn, the woman who sat close to me lending me an encouraging expression as she struts past me. Taking a deep breath, I rise, my stare on the cemented flooring, it's a wonder I don't fall and fortunately reach my destination in one piece.

Exhaling the carbon dioxide I forgot I was holding I crouch to my knees, hearing the servant of God breathing from the other side.

"You can start when you want"

My body quivers at the calm voice, my eyes involuntarily squeezing. I clear my throat hence I'm convinced my words will come out squeaky if I don't pull myself together.

"Father forgive me for I have sinned," I begin, the nervousness slowly leaving my body. "It's been years since my last confession."

"My sin is very great that I'm still scared I won't be forgiven," I sigh. "I've read psalm 51 and prayed but saying it out to you in your holy temple feels as if it is a taboo, I'm ashamed at my actions."

"There is no sin too great for God to forgive," the priest conveys through the barrier, his utterance giving me some sort of confidence to go on. "The fact you are ashamed as you stated is enough evidence that you are sorry for your transgressions. Go on once you feel it, I'm here."

Shaking my head, I continue. "The thing is, I made a deal with a demon, years back," I chuckle. "In exchange for my soul, stupid right?"

"You see, I lost faith in You after You didn't make my mother return to me after I cried and prayed earnestly. More so as my Dad and I got kicked out of our home and into the streets till a good Samaritan found us, despite that, I had to learn at an early age how to do small jobs for money to help."

"So you see, I lost it that early in life, I never tasted luxury so when the devil came knocking, I had no excuse to refuse because all I wanted was a better life." I scoff. "Now I think about it, I was not wise, or should I say I lacked the wisdom that came with knowing God."

"These are not excuses for my sins," I blurt, intertwining my fingers together. "I need your forgiveness, I need the happiness that comes with being at peace with You."

Freshy❤️