The doorbell rang to the tune of rule Britannia.
She opened the door to a man dressed all in black.
She was waiting for the sales pitch
He broke into her thoughts. I’m not selling anything.
Well that’s a first, are you looking for something.
Yes, I’m looking for your soul.
Sounds like insurance to me.
No insurance, just your soul.
Don’t you have to be dead before your soul leaves you?
That’s why I’m here.
I don’t understand.
Dead souls are less powerful than living souls.
I’m twenty-seven, and as far I know, I’m not going to die anytime soon.
This Friday, at nine minutes past three, you will die from a severe asthma attack.
I’m not listening to this crap, who the hell do you think you are.
I’m your saviour.
You’re not anyone's saviour, now what do you want.
You will have time to save yourself. As long as you say the words. ‘’Take My Soul.’’ Remember the words. ‘’Take My Soul.’’
Then he was gone.
She mentioned it to her husband that night.
It’s you love, you attract the weirdos
Yes, she did attract the weirdos, but it was just so strange
Friday at three she began to feel unwell, slowly struggling for breath. The inhaler didn’t seem to be working. She began to panic, slowly falling to the floor.
She could just make out the time on her phone, eight minutes past three. Suddenly, she remembered the words,’’ Take my soul.’’ With her last breath, the words came out. ‘’Take my soul.’’
She was preparing dinner when her husband walked in.
I see you're still alive, love.
Yes, alive and kicking.
Have you done something to yourself, had your hair done, you look different?
No, just the same old me.
Think I’ll have an early night, love I’m done in.
It was 3am when he began to struggle for breath.
The inhaler didn’t seem to be working. He began to panic, falling onto the floor.
She noticed the time was 3.08am
Just in time to save him.
She whispered to herself.
Take my soul.
3.09am, he was dead.
It was a shame, but dead souls were less powerful than living souls.
He heard the loud knock, knock.
He opened the door to a woman dressed all in black
She broke into his thoughts. I’m not selling anything.
-
Author:
Paul Bell (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: February 16th, 2022 05:27
- Category: Gothic
- Views: 31
- Users favorite of this poem: spilleronsheet
Offline)
Comments6
This reminded me of the 60's TV series "The twilight Zone" (or twiglet zone as we used to call it).. a delightful twist in the tale of your well constructed piece today.
Just noticed the pizza delivery guy, killing me with cheese the cad.
Oh no I’m an asthmatic too! Just remembered, 9 minutes past 3 in UK is a totally different time here. Thank goodness!
You flapping there, Rozina. It's 9 minutes past six at your bit, though a cheque for a million pounds will nullify this immediately. lol
We’re 8 hours ahead of UK in winter and 7 hours in summer. Need my calculator now.
Goth is such an interesting style. I love the horror scene and this was written lovely! 👍🌟
Love a good death on a Wednesday.
Omg
It gave me goosebumps
A mystery laced with humour laced with horror
Truly epic…
Makes double glazing salesmen look human now.
Gothic horror, unpredictable with a different end. I found it entertaining.
Nobody opens their door around mine now.
This held me from the first line - love it Paul.
She did grow on me.
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