The Bargain

Five years ago, John begged for a second chance at life, and something answered.

The Bargain

“What’s it gonna be, John?” Said the man, tossing another shovel of dirt into the hole.

John lowered his head, shielding his face. He was on his knees, and the level of dirt was past his thighs now, covering his calves and feet. He twisted against the ropes that bound his wrists to his ankles. His ragged breaths puffed white in the crisp night air.

The man, though John was certain he was something else, crouched at the edge. His features were only a silhouette against the moonlit sky. A smile tugged at his mouth… thin, bloodless, patronizing.

“You sick bastard! Why are you doing this?” John said through cracked lips.

His pulse throbbed in his temples.

“You owe me a life,” the man said simply, standing again.

Another shovelful rained down, thudding against John’s chest.

“Do you remember that day, John?”

He didn’t answer. He knew.

“You were already gone,” the man continued. “The cancer had taken hold, and you had weeks to live. You begged, ‘anyone, please, just one more chance.’ And I heard you. I fixed you. I gave you your life back and so much more. You got a good job, a house in the suburbs, a beautiful wife. For five years, you've enjoyed it all. And you've had five years to uphold your end of the bargain. That’s all I asked.”

“I tried!” John shouted. “I tried, but I couldn’t! I'm not a killer!”

“Not hard enough. Now it’s time to collect on the debt.”

“You’re just going to bury me alive?”

“That’s one choice,” the man said, glancing at his watch and gesturing toward someone behind him. “Or, since I am feeling generous, you can trade for another. You won't even have to get your hands dirty. I'll do the deed for you. Think hard, John, you have twenty minutes until midnight. After that, the offer expires.”

His wife’s voice drifted to his ears.

“Where is he… John?”

John’s heart dropped. “Why is she here? She has nothing to do with this!”

“I thought you might like to see her. Say your final farewell, as they say. She deserves to know how much you love her, how much she means to you, doesn’t she? Or…”

The blood drained from John’s face. The man smiled. “Yes, you understand.”

“NO! I won’t do it!”

“Suit yourself.”

More dirt rained down, filling up around John. Stones split the top of his head. Blood, hot in comparison with the night air, streamed down his cheeks. Grit and grime coated his face, lips, and tongue.

“Have you reconsidered? Time is running short,” the man said quietly.

“Don’t you touch her!” John rasped.

The man shrugged and heaped more dirt into the hole. John’s chest heaved against the weight of it. He tried to steady his breathing, but terror overwhelmed him.

Hot tears blurred his vision as he vainly squirmed and struggled to escape his situation, but the ground only pressed in more tightly, squeezing the air from his lungs.

Only his head and neck protruded from the dirt.

“Calm. Calm. Calm,” he whispered to himself, trying to steady his breathing, but unable to shake the panic that threatened to consume his sanity.

“It's nearly time, John. Just a few shovels more. But you still have a few seconds left to decide.”

“Okay. Okay.” His voice was low, desperate, filled with shame. “You promise, it’ll be painless, right?”

“I’m a man of my word.”

John broke. “Fine,” he sobbed. “Fine. Just… don’t let her…”

The man disappeared from view as a distant church bell began its midnight toll. His wife’s trembling voice floated down a moment later.

“John? Is he down there?”

“Yes,” the man said softly.

“John!”

John lifted his head as much as the soil would allow. She stood at the edge, staring down at him with a look of horror and confusion.

“What’s going on? I don’t understand…”

“I’m s-sorry, sweetheart,” he croaked, his lips barely forming the words. “I love…”

A stunned expression flashed across her face. Her mouth worked soundlessly. Her lifeless body crumpled like a rag doll, toppling into the hole beside him. Her dull, accusing eyes stared through him.

John screamed, his voice pure anguish. “Melissa, I’m so sorry, I had to. I had to. Please forgive me.”

The man stepped into view, wiping blood from a blade before tucking it into his belt.

“Well, John, a life for a life. Our deal is complete,” he said, voice calm as ever. “It’s been a pleasure.”

John sobbed uncontrollably, snot and tears pooling below his chin, “Let me out now.”

The church bell's last peal hovered in the air.

“That,” the man said, turning and walking away into the night, “was not part of the bargain.”