The Devil Makes Another Deal

Only signing a contract would save your life...

Photo by redcharlie on Unsplash

People boarded the plane like any other time, followed the instructions accordingly, and proceeded to their seats. Nothing was out of the ordinary. Yet.

This is the story of an event where not everything was as it was supposed to be.

~o~

On one particular flight, the LAA 457, from Buenos Aires, Argentina, to Quito, Ecuador, anyone with any ailment who used the restroom would be cured immediately. Relief was felt instantly.

All illnesses would be gone.

There was a presence there. It was immaterial, like a hologram, and it spoke of a deal impossible to refuse.

There was only one condition. You couldn't reveal who you encountered inside.

By now, the readers know who I'm referring to, and as it turns out, I am one of the beneficiaries.

But I digress.

We will know him as “Mr. Happen.”

No one could make any sense of these encounters. How is it possible that He, of all people or spirits, would be the one with such an ability for healing?

It didn't matter for any of those who were terminally ill and about to die. Not only now they won’t, but there's no sign of the previous illness. 

Cancers, brain tumors, decaying organs, heart, lung, and kidney issues. All were totally and completely gone.

Science could not explain it, and neither could physics professors.

Mr. Happen would only see one person at a time, and he agreed upon a contract. A contract for one's lasting life in return for unspeakable acts of malice.

In order to qualify for a certain number of years, your deeds had to match in quality. He explained that in detail, and it was not very pleasing.

The individual's actions and their deviousness were the deciding factors. 

So, he explained, just doing something terrible wasn't enough. It had to have more dire consequences. For example, if you killed your brother, that would give you a number—maybe adding a year to your life—but if you lied and destroyed his reputation during the funeral, you'd get quite a bit more. And so forth and so on. He wanted to cause as much discord as possible.

Everything was multiplication and arithmetic. Add and subtract, divide, or multiply. Eventually, life itself would take it to a different level. Algebra equations.

Then quantum mechanics.

Mr. Happen was on a mission.

People would earn or lose points depending on the way they achieved evil deeds.

But to Mr. Happen, the way you get there was what was most important. How can one produce the most elaborate way of creating more complications after the initial act?

Nobody wanted to hear the details. They were all willing to save their skin and do whatever was necessary to live as long as possible.

Life. More time on earth. That's all that counts.

Everybody wanted to participate. Unfortunately, mothers too, especially those with many young children, toddlers! Those were high on the list. They had a very high number in Mr. Happen’s book.

Sacrificing one or two could add ten whole years to mum’s life! 

Naturally, hysteria ensued. The state of the world didn't help matters, either. Lately, everybody has been dying of something. If it wasn't one thing, it was another. 

It got to the juncture where the now-landed plane had to be closed off and surrounded by authorities, but not for security. They sealed access to it so they could confer with Mr. Happen themselves.

So, Mr. Happen came up with a solution. He gave instructions to build bathrooms everywhere, just like the one on the LAA flight. Exactly to a “T”.

There was no need for the plane, just the bathrooms. 

Within days, as more and more people were dying for unknown reasons, probably of some plague, the hysteria turned into chaotic madness. No one was safe. At one point, it got so bad that people were committing the most brutal crimes, taking videos and notes, and rushing to confess to Mr. Happen and get their due credit.

Everything stopped: travel, vacations, going to work, social gatherings—all ceased to exist.

People were dropping dead everywhere, some holding the evidence of their malicious acts in their hands. They died before they could ‘collect’. 

People have erected Boeing plane bathrooms in the most unexpected places. Inside churches!

The idea was to hold on to religion, even though it was completely hypocritical and phony. But they held to their faiths tightly, even if they had to work with the dev….oops!

End of Part 1

(Blurb from the upcoming Part 2):

The world was unrecognizable. No one was acting normal. The disease affected millions, but only a few individuals were spared. Scientists couldn’t come up with a denomination for it. Worse, it seems to mutate or have the faculty to disappear right in front of the technician’s equipment. Then it would reappear again without any sense of logic. One day, it was one virus; the next day, it would be ten. Most were deadly. Some were quick; others would kill the person so slowly that many lost their minds.

Seeing such horrors, Mr. Happen saw an opportunity to make even more contracts, so out of his own will, he produced clones of himself to accommodate the surge in “customers.”

Everyone wanted to go to the bathroom. 

~o~