Fishing in Brains for an Eye with Teeth (Thirteen Tales of Terror)

by William Markly O'Neal

  He’d been calling her lately. And just last week, he wrote her a love letter.

  It all matched.

  And yet Lenny told himself he couldn’t be the only older divorced man in love with a younger woman. Not in a city this size.

  He couldn’t believe Esther would do something like this.

  He grabbed his mouse, disengaging the screen-saver on his personal computer. He signed online and navigated his way across the World Wide Web to the site for the radio station he was listening to earlier.

  Generally he didn’t listen to pop rock. The radio in the car used to remain forever tuned to the oldie station. But lately he’d been listening to Esther’s favorite station.

  Lenny clicked on Kylie McKinney’s DJ page and pulled up The Daily Dilemma Online. Reading the letter from “Fed-up,” he suddenly grabbed his scotch and guzzled it down.

  “Esther did write this!”

  He opened a drawer on his desk and looked down at a photograph of Esther and her best friend, Danielle.

  Part of Fed-up’s letter read,

  ‘When I took a week off work a couple months ago, I came back and discovered things on my desk were missing. I don’t suspect he was the one who took my stapler, but I do think he was the one who stole a picture of me and my best friend.’

  Tears welled up in Lenny’s eyes.

  Over the course of the next couple of hours, he got progressively more drunk as he rode an emotional roller coaster that peaked with extreme anger only to plummet to the depths of darkest depression.

  He never realized how pathetic he was, how delusional he was. Until today’s Daily Dilemma, Lenny truly believed Esther liked him. He never dreamed she saw him as a stalker and a loser.

  “What is wrong with me?” he woefully asked himself.

  Then, angrily, he wondered, “What’s wrong with her? Why won’t she give me a chance?”

  Lenny hadn’t cried in a decade, not since his mother died, but now, as he stared at Esther’s smiling photograph and remembered how he stole it off her desk, he bawled like a baby.

  He saw himself as Esther saw him, as those people on the radio saw him: a deluded, dirty old man. He couldn’t deny that he lusted for her. But this wasn’t infatuation. Thinking how those radio callers branded his feelings as ‘infatuation’ infuriated him.

  This wasn’t a crush. He had worked with her for two years and he had truly fallen in love with her.

  Lenny hung his head and cried.

  When his tears finally dried up, fear was added to his acidic emotional mix. Virtually every caller to that radio show suggested Esther report his behavior to Corporate. Despite their speculation to the contrary, he’d never done anything like this before. But his bosses had a strict No Tolerance policy when it came to sexual harassment. They might fire him.

  He poured himself more booze, even though he knew he was already looking at a nasty hangover tomorrow.

  Sitting at his computer, drunk and broken-hearted, Lenny insisted, “I really do love her!” With a sob, he admitted, “I don’t want to live without her!” After still more tears, he wiped his eyes, whining, “I’d sell my soul to be with her.”

  Immediately, Lenny’s computer cheerfully informed him, “You’ve Got Mail!”

  Eager for any distraction (even if it was only spam), he pulled up his mailbox.

  The new email was titled: Fulfill Your Dreams TONIGHT!

  Curious, he opened the email and read. . . .

  Tired of not realizing your greatest desires? Fed-up with life? Heartbroken because that Special Someone doesn’t feel the way you do?

  CHANGE YOUR CIRCUMSTANCES NOW!

  Make your dreams come true!

  Learn how YOU— Lenny Lee Langstrom — can sell your soul to the Devil and turn your fondest fantasies into treasured realities!

  The enclosed link was: http://www.$ellYerSoul2Satan.hel.

  If his emotions weren’t in such turmoil, he’d probably be amused. He knew this must be a joke but the timing of it was phenomenal.

  Hurry! said the final line of the email. This one-time limited offer expires at midnight tonight!

  Lenny clicked on the link and sat back in his chair to wait. He used a dial-up connection, not DSL or Broadband, and his PC didn’t have a lot of RAM. Generally it took several minutes to pull up something on the Internet.

  Remarkably, there was no delay. The web page popped up instantly. Taking another swig of Scotch, Lenny read. . . .

  Welcome, Mister Langstrom, to Hell’s Consignment House, the most user-friendly website in the universe!

  Because of the recent modernization of an ancient system, Satan will not be directly entering into negotiations with you. Rather, Lucifer has empowered numerous demons to act on his behalf.

  The process of putting your soul up for sale at Hell’s Consignment House couldn’t be easier!

  Simply click on the link that will appear at the end of this message. You will be prompted to complete a tentative contract for the purchase of your eternal spirit. You will be able to list whatever it is you desire to receive in exchange for your soul. Standard with all contracts is a clause guaranteeing that you will not die for another 46 years from disease, old age, or natural calamities.

  Lenny was 46-years-old. The idea of doubling his age before he died definitely agreed with him.

  Once the tentative contract is completed, simply change its status to ACTIVE. Your requested terms will then be immediately available for viewing by all of Hell’s brokers.

  Be aware: the more complicated your request, the harder it will be to find an exact match.

  Within seconds after posting your proposal, you’ll know if your terms are acceptable. If they are not acceptable, you will be offered a counter-proposal.

  Finally, you will be asked to seal the contract with your blood.

  It’s just that simple!

  You need not sleep alone tonight, Lenny.

  He jumped as if bee-stung, just at the thought of not having to face an empty bed tonight.

  Happiness awaits.

  Post your terms NOW.

  Click to create a contract: here.

  Before clicking, Lenny guzzled the last of his Scotch and then poured himself a glass of Jack Daniels. He was out of Scotch, so he switched to whiskey.

  The word here began to blink on Lenny’s screen.

  He straddled a line between belief and incredulity. He couldn’t decide if this entire site was some kind of elaborate joke or if there was something truly sinister going on here.

  In the end, curiosity ruled.

  He clicked on the link.

  What looked very similar to an email opened up. The subject line was already filled out for him. It read,

  For Sale: the immortal soul of 46-year-old Leonard Lee Langstrom.

  The body of the email was mostly blank but it did have a beginning and ending already written.

  The beginning said,

  I, Leonard Lee Langstrom, agree to sell my soul to an authorized agent of Satan in exchange for—

  After a lengthy blank space, the ending read,

  In exchange for being granted these stated conditions, I will forfeit all spiritual rights after my death. Without being Judged, I will be sent directly to Hell.

  As a further stipulation to my damnation, I will be granted another 46 years of life, free of any threat from disease, infirmities associated with old age, and all natural calamities.

  Lenny’s hands grabbed his keyboard and his fingers began typing, as if independently deciding the matter on their own.

  He wrote,

  . . . in exchange for the undying love of Esther Nicole Gray.

  He stopped and stared at the words on the screen, wondering if he should elaborate or not. He finally decided there was no need.

  All he wanted was Esther’s love.

  There was no SEND button like with an email. Instead, a little rectangle at the bottom of the screen said, ACTIVATE PROPOSAL.

  He clicked the
button.

  The error message appeared immediately as his speakers barked a startling tone.

  Lenny pouted as he read, Agents of the Devil are unable to affect love. Might we suggest lust, respect, or perhaps even fear?

  A gamut of other emotions are available as substitutes for love.

  Lenny’s bottom lip protruded even farther. Like a spoiled child, he whined, “But I want her to love me!”

  He stared at what was written on the screen.

  The word lust sparked his imagination.

  He told himself, “If I can’t get Esther to love me right away . . . maybe I can get her to fall in love with me over time.” He nodded, reprising his earlier theme of, If she’ll only give me a chance!

  Lenny clicked away the error message and backspaced over what he wrote.

  In exchange for his soul, he asked for,

  . . . the undying lust, passion, trust, and infatuation of Esther Nicole Gray.

  Writing “infatuation” seemed almost like revenge, considering how people on the radio were quick to label his love as infatuation.

  He studied what he’d written, sipping his whiskey.

  Then, with a grin, he put the word ‘obedience’ between ‘passion’ and ‘trust.’

  Thinking that was perfect, Lenny activated the proposal.

  This time there was no error message. Instead, his computer informed him, Proposal Under Review.

  Exactly six seconds later, he received the message, Proposal Accepted.

  Lenny’s heart skipped a beat.

  After a moment, the contract became partially opaque. A message appeared on top of it.

  When this contract is finalized, you will be giving up your immortal soul. You cannot be tricked into doing this. You must enter into this contract willingly.

  Do you understand?

  Click Y to indicate yes.

  He looked at what he wrote in the contract. He tried to imagine how radically Esther would change. He found it almost as impossible to imagine as the idea of being consigned to hellfire.

  One thing he could imagine . . . life going on exactly as today. He could imagine loneliness, envy, terrible humiliation, and impotent rage.

  His decision made, Lenny hit the Y key.

  Fire burned away the words on the screen, replacing them with blood red text, reading,

  Place your finger on the spot indicated on the screen so that your blood may be taken in lieu of your signature.

  For the first time tonight, Lenny was frightened. He suddenly found it hard to breathe. On the computer screen a red circle appeared: the spot to place his finger. Beside the circle was the icon of a stick-pin—a long black needle with a tiny human skull for a head.

  Sweating, suddenly feeling like he was about to spontaneously combust, Lenny jumped up from his desk, tearing at his clothes, taking off his suit jacket and shirt. He went to the bathroom for a towel and wiped sweat off his head.

  The thought that pierced his fright and drove it away was, I’ll need to take a shower before Esther comes over.

  Unhappy that he no longer felt drunk (and surprised he didn’t have a raging headache), Lenny stubbornly poured himself some more Jack Daniels and guzzled it down before returning to his desk.

  While he was away from the keyboard, the screen changed. It now showed the final instructions.

  Your finger will be pricked. Your blood will be taken. By willfully giving up your blood, you will be signifying your acceptance of the contract. At that moment, this transaction will be FINAL and may never be revoked.

  The red circle where he was supposed to place his finger began to blink.

  The decision is yours, Mister Langstrom .

  For all of six seconds, he hesitated. Then Lenny tentatively extended his index finger. Picturing Esther in his mind, he thought, Come to me.

  He placed his finger against the computer screen in the indicated circle.

  The screen was as cold as ice, painfully cold. His fingertip was first frozen and then stabbed. The icon of the pin flew to his touch, pricking him. The pain was sharp and potent.

  “Ow!” He withdrew his finger and looked at it, seeing the droplet of red there. He looked at the computer screen and saw the red stain of his life liquid.

  Blood flowed.

  Without warning, the computer screen, the lights in his house, the synapses in his mind— everything flashed bright red. Lenny saw the red circle become a purple pentagram. His blood on the screen was absorbed by the screen, sinking into the monitor.

  Demonic laughter chased Lenny’s consciousness away. His index finger tingling as if shocked, Lenny put his head on top of his keyboard and passed out.

  ***666***

  He awoke to the sound of bells.

  His mind was fuzzy; he thought he was dreaming; and he settled back to sleep.

  When the doorbell rang again, Lenny sat up.

  For a moment, he was completely disoriented. He didn’t understand why he was asleep at his computer. Then a flash of fire blazed across his mind’s eye, and he remembered.

  He jumped out of his seat, immediately excited. Was it Esther ringing his bell?

  But who else could it be?

  His heart was too big for his chest. His palms were slick with sweat. Shouting, “Coming,” he hurried to the entry hall. Lenny flicked on his porch light, unlocked the front door, and opened it.

  The sight of Esther took his breath away. Despite the fact it was a muggy night, she was dressed in a long tan overcoat. She was wearing make-up: mascara and blue eyeliner and bright red lipstick. When they made eye contact, her lids fluttered. She looked down, smiling nervously.

  Lenny opened the storm door and told her to, “Come in.”

  Esther hesitated, looking up at him, frowning slightly. Then she flew at him, wrapping her arms around his head, kissing him passionately as she pushed him back inside.

  Thrilled beyond imagining, Lenny held her tight and returned her kisses.

  They were both soon breathless with desire.

  Finally, panting, Esther pushed him back. Without saying a word, she began to slowly unbutton her coat.

  Lenny was already completely aroused, even before he saw her naked cleavage.

  Ester shed her only garment, letting it drop to the floor. Stepping out of the sandals she was wearing, she reached for him. He pushed her back, astonished that he was finally seeing her nude body. “Let me look at you,” he rasped.

  Perfectly obedient, Esther complied.

  Tears broke free of his eyes. He wept silently at the sight of her— the most beautiful sight he’d ever seen.

  Within moments, however, his lust conquered his awe.

  Lenny took Esther by the hand and led her to his bedroom.

  ***666***

  The next day was Friday and both Lenny and Esther called off work.

  They stayed in bed together most of the weekend, having marathon sex. By Monday, they were both so sore they could barely move and again called off work.

  Finally, under great pressure from his boss, Lenny returned to the office. But they agreed Esther could no longer work under him. She quit, effective immediately.

  While Lenny worked (and regenerated his fluids), Esther moved out of her apartment, into Lenny’s house.

  The next few weeks were the most erotic of Lenny’s life.

  One night after they’d made love, as Esther slumbered quietly beside him, Lenny stared into the dark and thought about the deal he made. On the one hand, he couldn’t be happier and had no regrets. On the other hand, he knew he was truly damned and thoughts about what his afterlife would entail terrified him.

  He couldn’t imagine there was any comfort in Hell but if there was, his would be memories of these glorious days with Esther.

  ***666***

  He proposed to her on their three-month anniversary of being together.

  It troubled Lenny that Esther hesitated before answering.

  He commanded her to, “Say ‘yes,’ honey. You k
now you want to.”

  Breaking eye contact with him, she obediently responded, “Yes.”

  Esther was raised Catholic and, as a gesture of love, Lenny agreed to a Catholic wedding. But when he went with Esther to meet her family priest, he discovered an uncomfortable truth about the damned: holy places made them ill.

  Less than five minutes after entering the church, Lenny was vomiting up his lunch. The nausea lasted as long as he was on sanctified ground and dissipated after he’d left.

  They got married at a Justice of the Peace. Esther didn’t seem particularly upset at not having a church wedding.

  And Lenny had never been happier in his life.

  He was utterly clueless that his bride considered their wedding day the worst day of her life.

  ***666***

  In the months after they were married, Esther spent a lot of time with her friends— too much time, in Lenny’s opinion. He ordered her to spend more time at home and she did.

  Then without his knowledge, Esther maxed out their new joint credit card. When Lenny saw the credit card bill, he chastised her and demanded she stop. She did.

  The sex was fantastic. Her lust for him was insatiable. They never had troubles in bed.

  One evening, three months after they were married, they were having dinner at a fancy restaurant and Lenny didn’t like the way Esther looked at their handsome young waiter. On the drive home, he told her, “Don’t you ever fool around on me, Esther. Don’t even think about it.”

  Meekly, she said, “I won’t.”

  Lenny knew she wouldn’t.

  Three months after that, Lenny realized they didn’t talk much. He and Esther had very little in common.

  Lenny was a huge sports enthusiast. He loved baseball, basketball, and (most especially) football. He instructed Esther to study up on his favorite teams, so they would have more to talk about.

  Obediently, Esther complied.

  Then one night, he came home to discover Esther was drunk and crying. The moment she saw him, she threw a bottle of vodka at him, shrieking, “I hate you!”