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  • Writer's pictureBriony Rose Smith

Short Story: Contract Conflict

(Small warning for strong language)


Twenty-One. Twenty-One. Twenty-One.

I repeated the number over and over in my head as I scanned the square, metal lockers in front of me for the corresponding number. My lizard eyes counted through the numbers, flicking down once in a while to check the number given to me by the front desk. Can never be too careful with these things.

"Ah!" I chirped when I found it, grinning my fangs as I pulled on the cold handle.

The metal bed flew out at me and I giggled, catching it and eyeing up my prize.

I vaguely heard the door open behind me but didn't take notice.

Instead, I leant down and took one big sniff of the wrinkly, pale body on the board.

He smelt good. Old man, lived nearly to 90s, good long life. Party boy in his youth if I was smelling right...ooh drug problem too. He stank of lust and over-inflated pride. Ooh I couldn't wait to dig in. I loved me some over-inflated pride.


I frowned. I mean, it was only me in the room so, unless this guy was talking to the stiff he was obviously talking to me. I sighed and turned around.

There was a short guy; pale white eyes a telling of his necromantic profession, so, he could have been talking to the stiff but he was obviously glaring at me. I don't think I did anything to him...that I remember anyway,

"What?" I asked, plainly.

"That one's mine, back off!" He barked at me intimidating as a chihuahua.

"Excuse me, bitch wizard? This soul is mine. He signed a contact in life and-"

"He signed one with me, here!" He shoved a piece of paper in my face and I hissed at it.

You know, once upon a time these fucking bitch wizards used to look up to us, but this new generation and their ascended magic. No fucking respect anymore.

I sighed and read through the contact he showed to me and, low and behold, he was right...

"Well, he signed his damn soul to me too."

I reached into the bag I had on my belt and pulled out a superior contract. Bitch wizard's was on boring ass white paper with printed font and signed with ink. Mine was on a parchment scroll, my beautiful cursive handwriting and signed in blood. Suck it.

He sighed frustrated as he rolled it out and read it through. Bet he was jealous of my wonderful writing, detailing the terms of the contract I had with this human. He wanted to give great sex for life. He was pretty young and drunk when he signed it but I didn't give a fuck; giving great sex would give him that over-inflated ego and lust combo that I think is fucking delish.

Eventually, he sighed and handed me back my amazing contract.

"Then we have a problem," he stated, though, I'm not sure what the problem was.

"Nah, I'll eat the soul, you have the body, problem solved!" I cheered and turned away to eat cause I was hungry.

"Oh no you don't," He reached out and grabbed me by the tail.

"Bitch Wizard, I sware if you don't let go on my tail I will kill you and eat you, probably not in that order." I said calmly.

He wisly let go of my tail and with that, I turned back to face him.

"Since when did you need souls and shit too?" I asked, pouting that, of course, this couldn't just be simple.

"Since we dumped you guys and did things ourselves. Souls are a great power source for us. I'd go into detail but I doubt you'd understand." He sighed.

I glared. No. Fucking. Respect. Still,

"Look, bitch wizard. I'll make you a deal. If you can get me another soul for my dinner, you can have this old guy. Said soul must taste as good though. This guy had a good amount of sin and was gonna be a tasty meal for me."

I expected Bitch Wizard to just tell me to fuck off but he considered this.

"Would you be willing to come with me to my lab?" He asked.

I stared surprised, "Sure buuuut. Let me write this up we have to make sure the deal is clear."

I pulled out another parchment scroll and batwing quill that I had handy. Never know when someone wants to make a deal. Bitch wizard rolled his eyes and pulled out a business card.

"Here's the address. Meet me there once you're finished, old timer." He dropped the card on the operating table I was now using as a desk, collected the old guy and left.

I take time on my contracts. This beautiful cursive handwriting of mine takes time and effort and it has to be perfect! I wrote up the terms, a time limit on how long Bitch Wizard has to get me a soul, quality of said soul and payment should he fail; which would be the original soul we argued over and, in very very very small print, his soul when he should pass away.

Happy with it, I stood and stretched, my back clicked loudly. I'd gotten a bit stiff it seemed so I took a few more moments to stretch myself out. I picked up the business card he left, blowing off a layer of dust and nodded to myself as I recognised the street and where to find it.

I got there to see something...interesting.


What the fuck was McSouls?

It smelt fucking good that's for sure. Behind the glass walls, I could see demons of all shapes and sizes sat together and feasting on a number of souls I have never seen before.

I tentatively entered. God my stomach growled at the smells and the sights but no. Needed to go get this contract sorted with Bitch Wizard. I can figure out the rest of this after.

I went to the counter where a young necromancer smiled at me cheerfully.

"Welcome to McSouls. What can I get you?" She asked.

"I er..." You know, I don't think I'd ever said 'er' until then, "I'm looking for this guy."

I show her the business card and she stared bugged eyed.

"O-Oh I see. Come right through." She stepped away from the til and opened a way past the counter and led me to a back office.

I go in and, low and behold, there is Bitch Wizard. He was sat reading through a load of boring white paper documents when he looked up. Did he have so many wrinkles last time I saw him?

He smiled at the young girl who brought me in and she left us alone.

"Does every demon take five years to write out a contract?" he asked.

"W-wait what?" I stared.

"Five. Years." He said slowly like he was talking to a retard.

I stared a few more moments.

There wasn't that many wrinkles last time was there? Pretty sure he had more hair in general then too.

"Fuuuuuuck." I moaned, throwing my hands into my face, "Lucifer, damn it!"

Admittedly this was not the first time something like this has happened. I was playing this arcade game once and only got stopped ten years later when they said they were closing the place down. Shame, was fun.

Bitch Wizard shook his head.

"Here's a coupon for the soul I owe you."

He waved a piece of paper in my face. I took it. Always take free shit.

"How did this even..." I stared at the paper that read:

'One free Original flavour(c) soul'

"I knew you'd ask for a soul that tasted the same so I figured out how to copy them. Sadly, the copies cannot really work for power like I originally needed souls for but demons seem to like them." He shrugged.

"Fucking sweet!" I cheered, "Couldn't get in on this little venture of yours could I, Bitch Wizard? I mean, I gave you the idea."

"No. Now, fuck off." he snapped, turning back to his paperwork like I didn't exist and you know what?

I just left. This guy can mouth off to me all he wants, he managed to make demons his cash cows.

A Fucking plus.


Happy Halloween!

In a random spur of the moment writing time I ended up with this little piece. I hope you enjoyed it! It's based off this writing prompt I saw:


Looking for more to read? I have a monthly updating story about dragons and machines on-going and I've published some books.

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