“Let me get this straight. You want me to get you not just one, but two souls? Like, human souls?”

“I believe that would be fair compensation for the effort I have already gone to, which will be wasted effort should I give you back the sad life that was taken from you.”

“I’m not going to kill people for you, you sick…”

“No. No. You misunderstand. Murder is not part of this arrangement. Not inherently. I merely want you to do what you have just done. Be stubborn, be smart, talk them into doing what you already refuse to do. I can even have an associate handle the capture of the wayward and unfortunate beings for you. All you would have to do is talk.”

“What’s the catch?”

“There is no catch, Albert. What I’m offering is, as you pointed out, a dark proposal. That you are already considering it tells me that it does not bother you in the way in might bother others.”

“You have an associate hunt down the souls of two people that are already dead and I talk them into giving up their souls to you?”

“That would be accurate. And in return, I will reunite your spirit and body to a living state. Of course, you will only receive half up front and full payment upon completion of the agreement. And there is also the matter of what should befall you in the event of your untimely death by less enterprising forces.”

“Hold up. I’m not agreeing to anything without getting a clear explanation of what I’m agreeing to.”

“Of course not. I will get you something in writing. Though, do bear in mind that you only have a short period of time remaining before this whole ordeal ends in you vanish entirely.”

Death opened a drawer on the other side of the desk, and with a flourish of his hand produced a piece of ancient paper. It wasn’t quite paper though, it was thicker and smoother. And there was an odd hole near a bottom corner.

As Death held out the vellum sheet, and as it drooped unceremoniously from his hand, writing began to scrawl across the surface. As it fell into Albert’s hands, the document grew close enough for the writing to become legible.

Contractee, ______________ agrees to provide in payment two souls of human quality to the name of contractor _____________ by means of consensual written agreement. Assistance and target identification provided to the meeting of physical labor needs of contractee ___________ (init). Additional spiritual property acquired through the acquisition of souls in question to be determined upon submission. In the interim period of acquisition, contractee agrees to subsist in a state befitting a halfway measure of the finalized agreement; I.e., renewal to life and the living body lost in death. Upon submission of second soul, full renewal to life and living body shall be granted; addend.—upon future inevitable demise, contractee agrees to submit to further arbitration for the transfer of soul and spiritual property to contractor ________ (init). Materials provided, within constraints of the value of secondary soul.

Albert read through each line carefully, breaking each statement down and reasoning out what would actually be required of him. It didn’t sound too hard, though he was proof that it could be a difficult task.

“Time is running low, Albert. The sooner you sign, the sooner we can be done with this.” Death held out a feather quill pen for Albert to sign with as he spoke.

The implement looked like a relic of the medieval era.

“And what if I disagree later, what if I want to back out?”

“Standard procedure dictates that such an act would result in the forfeiture of your soul and spiritual property to me. That is, unless I specify otherwise; which I will not.”

“Who comes up with these rules?”

“This is the way things are. I fill in the gaps with clarifications and clauses. The only warning I will give you is that agreements with me are binding. This is a serious decision. But I implore you, in your own best interest, to sign.” Death hefted the pen in Albert’s direction, beckoning him to take it.

There was a silent moment in the impossible room, where there was a resounding echo that seemed to carry no sound at all, and also a hum that could have been every sound. It pressed against Albert’s mind, like an ocean bearing down on him as though he were on the seafloor. There was no other clear way out. Not one that meant staying alive.

With a resentful tug, Albert plucked the pen from Death’s waiting hand and pressed it against the vellum. A small dribble of black ink bled onto the page.

“Fill your full name there, initial there, and sign below the text.” Death pointed to the various blank lines in the text and then to the empty space at the bottom of the page.

In mere moments, the blanks were filled and Albert read his own name in his head as he went over the document one last time.

Death quickly retrieved the document and the pen, scribbled into the remaining blank spaces, signed at the bottom of the page, and nodded to Albert.

The world seemed to fade around Albert as the agreement was finalized. The open void of the ceiling rushed up past him as he was flung through blackness for what felt like ages. Then, all at once, Albert found himself on the sidewalk. Palms bloodied, nose just a little bent, Albert pulled himself to his scraped knees and then onto his feet. He felt numb. He couldn’t tell if it was due to shock or some other trauma response, but nothing seemed to register quite the same as it had in the moments before he had woken back up in his body. At least, nothing seemed to hurt the way he felt it should have.

All of his body felt present, but somehow unaccounted for.

Unsure whether what he had just witnessed was real or a dream, Albert limped hastily back up the street. Back to the same stoop where he had confronted his pursuer. Back home.