Part 1: Greed
Is it wrong to want?
We all want something right? Money, power, love. What is a human being if not selfish? I would argue, that a human without desire is but an empty shell of what they should be. But who am I to make that judgement?
"Hi, there! Thank you for calling! Here at Morningstar Inc, we strive to make all of your wildest dreams come true. My name is Isaac, How can I help you today?"
Isaac Avaritia. I am but a humble employee at Morningstar Incorporated. As you have probably guessed by now, I am an employee in the Department of Greed, have been for almost 400 years now. The day had been going by like any other. Co-workers engaging in the latest office gossip, some poor intern getting chewed out by the supervisor, a failed contract here and there. Me on the other hand, well I was on a roll!
I had just pulled in a soul in record time! What was her name again? Loonie? Lacey? It was something Lovelace I'm sure. Regardless, I was on to the next call!
You see here at Morningstar Inc, we like to offer our services to those in need. It doesn't matter how you come to know of us. Whether we appear as a contact on your phone, a number on a letter or maybe even on a plain old flyer, we always make sure to carry out your wishes.
"Hel..lo? U-Umm...I'm sorry but this phone was left at the park. I was just calling to see if you knew the owner?"
"Ah! What great luck you have sir! To think this was the first number you called, it's certainly fate! So why don't you start by telling me what troubles you!"
Sometimes clients need a little help in getting to the root of their problems. Nothing a little persuasion can't fix.
"What? No, I just wanted to find the owner of the phone!"
"Oh come now, Is that really all you want?"
But sometimes that can be the best part.
The monitor of the computer caught the reflection of my eyes as they lit up. Drawn into my spell, the hesitation the client felt slowly but surely faded until all that was left was raw desire.
"I...well I just...I lied...I didn't find the phone. It...belongs to someone I know. It wouldn't stop ringing so I just...I thought the cops were looking for them..."
"And why is that?"
"I-I know it's wrong but...well...I don't have any money. I can barely afford rent this month a-and my mom is sick. Nobody will hire me and I just...they agreed to help! I swear. I didn't...I didn't want to kill them but they said they would help!"
The man's voice trailed off as he stifled a sob. He took a breath. It was the kind you take when that lump in your throat chokes out any words you can muster and you can't help but cry.
Just a little more.
All he needs is one more push.
"My that's unfortunate. I want to help you. Will you let me?"
"hic-How can you help?"
"How would you like me to help?"
There was a long pause on the other end of the line before he took a sharp breath and spoke again. "Can you help my mom get better?"
"What's wrong with her?"
Still under my spell, the man began to pour his heart out, saying all kinds of things that you wouldn't exactly tell a stranger whose face you don't even know.
"My father gambled away all our money and ran away when debt collectors began showing up at our door. My mother is ill and treatment costs a lot but since my father took the remainder of our money and ran, we haven't been able to pay for it. I can't find a job, my mother obviously can't work and there's nobody else who can help us! But I saw online that you can get lots of money for selling...human parts. I didn't want to...but I'm desperate! I lured in one of the debt collectors and killed him. I was going to sell his organs but while I was cleaning everything up his blasted phone kept ringing!"
The client's voice shook with a different kind of frustration. The kind that seemed like he was more irritated by having been interrupted than guilty for having just killed someone.
"I tried to ignore it but I thought...I thought maybe someone was looking for him. I turned the phone off but it STILL kept ringing! So I called the number back and you picked up. You say you want to help me? Then make my mother better so I don't have to keep doing this!"
I twirled the phone cord in my fingers as I propped my feet up on the desk. "Unfortunately it's against our policy to interfere with the lifespans of other folks. I can get you money for her treatment though. In fact, I can give you more than that. You can have riches beyond your wildest dreams. All you have to do is say the word!"
There was another pause, like he was attempting to seem contemplative, but I knew the outcome would be the same regardless.
"And I'll be able to pay off our debt?"
I couldn't help but laugh at the eagerness in his voice. "You'll be able to do much more than pay off your debt. For a price that is."
"I don't have money! I just told you that!"
"Oh don't worry about that! We don't ask for money. You see, should you choose to make a deal with us, we'll grant your wish and in exchange, you hand over your soul when you die! Simple right?"
"...Is this some kind of sick scam?"
"Nope. Oh, I should mention, the boss doesn't take well to rejection. If you end up refusing our services we put your name on a list with everyone else who has done so and our boss deals with them personally. Call it a pet peeve of his, but he doesn't like when people don't know how to be thankful for his goodwill. Besides, what do you have to lose here? A few minutes of conversation? If I were you, I'd take the risk."
"...Fine—"
"That's what I like to hear!"
The sound of my keyboard clicking away filled my cubicle as I recorded his information in our system. I got up and stretched, ready to close the deal.
"Off to meet another client already?"
I glanced over my shoulder at my co-worker who was peaking over the top of their cubicle. "You know it!"
"Don't half-ass it, people will get suspicious if you start bringing in souls too quickly."
"I'll have you know, I take my work very seriously!"
She rolled her eyes and disappeared back into her cubicle. As I made my way over to our transporter. A familiar black plume of smoke engulfed me. When the smoke cleared I was standing in front of a rather stunned young man. The phone in his hands still carrying traces of the smoke I emerged from. The poor boy was still covered in blood, with the sorry excuse for a body laying next to him, halfway under the floorboards as though he was trying to hide it.
"Nice to meet you, sir." I pulled the contract out of my briefcase and laid it in front of him. "So this is our contract. Don't hurt yourself trying to read it. It's not written in the human tongue. To summarize, the terms are that I am not allowed to force you into any deal, I can't speed up the process of collecting your soul nor am I allowed to interfere once the contract is signed. As for your part, I will ensure that you come into enough money to support your mother in exchange for your soul when you die. Now if you would be so kind as to sign right here."
I pulled out a pen from my pocket and handed it to him. His shocked expression twisted with apprehension but when he grabbed the pen it looked as though he had stopped trying to wrap his head around everything and decided to take a leap of faith. He shakily scribbled his name onto the paper and glanced up at me.
"Is that it then? How will I get the money?"
"You don't need to worry your pretty little head about that. It will come soon. Thanks for doing business with Morningstar Inc, we hope to see you again soon!"
With a wink, I let the smoke consume me once more, leaving the boy to his own devices.
Back at the office, I proceeded to make my final report.
"Victor Krum, age 21, wanted more money to get treatment for his ailing mother and to repay his father's debt..."
I stretched, leaning back in my chair. Now all there was to do was wait for another call. I resorted to doodling on my notepad while I waited for the phone to ring but my eyes kept wandering back to the report on Victor. There was something about him that reminded me of a memory far too distant to place and yet it felt so familiar. A frustrated sigh heaved itself from my lungs as I stood up. I decided something to drink might perk me up and so I walked over to the vending machine. Before I could get anything though, the sound of my name being called down the hall caught my attention.
"Isaac! Come quick!"
My co-worker ran up to me, stopping just before he reached me to catch his breath.
"What's wrong?" I asked.
"Your newest client's soul just came in."
"Already? Wow, that's two for two today. Talk about being lucky! So how'd he die so quickly?"
"Ah, apparently his father had come home right when he was preparing to move his mother to a hospital and they began fighting about where he got the money to do so. His father beat him to death when he refused to lend him any."
It wasn't until I had gotten back to my desk to see the full report that I realized what was so familiar to me.
A father with a gambling addiction...
Plagued by an ever-increasing debt...
Why this was exactly the road that led to me working here.
400 Years ago
Calloused knuckles cracked across my face so hard that it left me dizzy for a moment.
"Ungrateful brat stop your whimpering. Grab whatever valuables you can carry and follow me."
I managed to pull myself together just as loud banging began to shake the door to the house.
"We know you're in there! No use in hiding! Why don't you open the door while we're still being nice huh?"
I recognized that gravely voice on the other side of the door.
Debt collectors.
My old man had been on the run for as long as I could remember. It didn't take a genius to figure out that the only reason he even bothered to take me with him was because I was able to get things that he couldn't. People always tended to let their guards down around a poor, defenseless child you see. Sometimes he'd have me go out to beg for money or food while he gambled away what little money I earned the day before, other times he'd have me lure unsuspecting victims to him by pretending to be lost, just so he could steal their money.
But no matter how far we ran, his debt would always find us. Whenever he got word that the collectors were closing in, he'd use me to gain entry to some poor unsuspecting person's house so he could steal their things and pawn them off for money at the next town we escaped to.
Today was no different. As the banging at the door got louder, I rushed to do as he instructed, stumbling over the still warm corpse of the woman who owned the house. I briefly caught sight of the horrified look that was frozen on her face as I hurried out the window with a bag full of her things. Of course, I felt guilty but this was how my father taught me to survive. I didn't know any other life. So when he told me to approach the elderly woman and pretend to be lost I didn't question it. When she opened her door for me to call for help and he forced his way inside, I didn't bat an eye. When he beat her to death after she tried to resist, I simply shut the door so nobody would see. Although I couldn't help but gag at the bloody sight, earning myself a slap to the face in the process.
My father came tumbling out of the window behind me right when a loud crash came from inside. I could hear the collectors shouting at us as we ran but I didn't have the time to listen to what they were saying. If I couldn't keep up with my dad I knew he was going to just rip the bag out of my hands and leave me to find my way back to him on my own.
I ran and ran until my legs were too heavy to take another step and my lungs felt like they had burst into flames.
"D-Dad...where are we...going now?" I asked through laboured breaths.
"Shut up! Let me think!"
I followed him silently. Eventually, we found our way to a small inn. It was in the middle of nowhere and fairly secluded, but we wouldn't be there long. At least that's what dad kept telling himself. Unfortunately for him, the collectors were never far behind and that night when I laid my head down on that dirty, uncomfortable mattress, they were already at our door. I could just barely make out their muffled conversation when my dad went out to talk to them. I was surprised he decided to speak to them at all, but it didn't take long to realize why that was.
"How old is your son?"
"He's 10, He's young but he can do good work! I'll give him to you guys if you promise to wipe my remaining debt!"
The collector scoffed. "Please, you'd have better luck selling your organs than you would your son. What am I supposed to do with a child huh?"
"You know as well as I do that there are more than enough people out there who would pay good money for a child..."
I was too young to completely understand what he meant by that but I knew it wasn't anything good. Fear wreaked havoc in my head that night. I thought that as long as I remained useful to him then he wouldn't abandon me but regardless of how hard I tried, when it came down to it, he was still willing to sell me off for his own selfishness.
"...ha...you really are a piece of shit you know that? But you're not wrong. Fine then, We'll be back in the morning with someone to take a look at the kid and let you know how much he's worth."
I felt my blood run cold. My dad came back inside and I pretended to still be asleep. I knew that if I didn't do anything, then come morning, I would be facing a worse fate than anything I had experienced before. What was it that man said?
"You'd have better luck selling your organs..."
I could do that? How much would that even get me?
I racked my brain for what felt like forever and then it hit me, I had met a slew of rather shady individuals throughout my life thanks to my useless dad. Anyone that he knew, I naturally met as well. While I struggled to find a way out of my predicament, I remembered something important. A few towns back, My piece of shit sperm donor ended up killing someone who was known in those parts for being the son of some big-shot crime boss. He had a "friend" in that town who was good at cleaning up those kinds of things though. He managed to make it all go away, it was as if the boy didn't exist in the first place.
If I could somehow make it back there...
I knew what I had to do. Quietly getting out of bed, I made my way over to the bags of things we had stolen. Inside of one was a small decorative dagger. It was clearly for display purposes but it was sharp enough to get the job done. Walking over to the rat bastard asleep on the other bed, I briefly considered not going through with it.
Why did he have to gamble so much?
What did he think he was going to get out of it besides more debt?
Why do I have to suffer because of his idiocy?
Anger and frustration boiled inside my chest as I questioned how I ended up in this position. The hesitation I felt was swiftly snuffed out. With no more time to waste, I steeled my resolve and drove the dagger into his neck. I watched him flail and struggle as he began choking on the pooling blood around his neck. Perhaps it was because he was the one who had always done the killing before, but my hands were shaking as I watched the sight before me. He fell off of the bed in an attempt to reach me and finally fell dead just as he managed to crawl over to me.
Once I was sure he was dead I got to work removing his organs. I took everything I thought I would be able to sell. From his heart and livers to his eyeballs and kidneys and everything in between. I stored them in the cooler used to store ice inside one of the cabinets and left immediately.
By the time the sun was in the sky and the collectors returned, I was already long gone, leaving them nothing but my father's mutilated corpse to discover.
Many years later...
I did manage to find my way back to that friend of his. He helped me sell my father's organs and found me a quiet place to stay as the adopted son of a sickly woman, but that was it. Shortly afterwards, he was discovered to be the one who covered up the death of that Crime Boss' son and was promptly hunted down.
I was safe though.
Life with my new "mother" was quiet and simple and I grew up rather uneventfully. So uneventfully in fact, that I began to get bored. Everybody wants something, don't they? At the time, all I wanted was to survive, but life was good now so what more could I want? I even managed to find myself a lovely fiancé who was the daughter of one of the richest men in town.
My mother was wealthy but very sickly and couldn't have any children of her own, which was why she agreed to adopt me. She passed away when I was in my early twenties and as her only child, I was set to inherit all that she had.
Money
Land
Assets
There wasn't a single thing that I would have to want for. Unfortunately, not everybody was happy with this arrangement. The woman's family was angry that I would be inheriting it all and felt that her wealth should only be shared amongst blood relatives. So unbeknownst to me, they forged her will and removed my name from it.
It would have been fine if it ended there, but then they started demanding that I repay them for all the years she had spent taking care of me, or they would have to let my fiancé's father know that I wasn't the woman's biological son. I had to sell most of my valuables to pay them back, leaving me with nothing but scraps. Turned out my soon-to-be father-in-law threw a fit regardless and opposed his daughter marrying me now that I had little to nothing left.
Part of me wondered if this was some kind of twisted revenge from beyond the grave. My sweet fiancé disagreed with her father. We had known each other for years at that point and were very much in love. There was no way she'd abandon me just because I didn't have money! Or at least that's what she said. It was her idea to elope. We did so on a whim, thinking that once we got away from everything things would be less stressful, but things are never that easy.
Once my father-in-law found out I had run away with his daughter, he sent word out to all of his wealthy friends. This, in turn, prevented me from finding a job anywhere in the country. I guess he thought that we'd come crawling back once we were desperate enough. We didn't even have enough money to leave the country either so we were stuck. My wife said she would try to talk to her father but I knew it wouldn't make a difference. For days, she called and begged him to let us live our lives but he never listened. It didn't take long to fall right back into the poverty I was in as a child. We couldn't feed ourselves, we were constantly fighting because of her father, nothing was going right.
I was fed up.
Why was I still living like this after everything I had done to escape this life?
Why were people so obsessed with money and prestige that they refused to let us live our lives in peace?
Why me?
After another day of failing to get a job, I returned home more drained than ever before. How long was it going to last this time? I wondered. I climbed the stairs to our small little apartment to see a note plastered on the door.
A notice of eviction.
I felt my head lance in pain and angrily crumpled the paper, throwing it over the side of the railings. Inside, I went into the kitchen to find my wife. It looked like she had just gotten off the phone with her father.
"No luck today either?" She asked.
"Not even a little bit...there was an eviction notice on our door too."
She dropped to her knees, choking back a sob. "Isaac...I can't live like this anymore...maybe we should just go back."
"What? It was your idea to elope? Now you want to go back? After all that, you want to give up now?"
"I know...I know but...we won't be able to hold out much longer. You know that..."
"I'll figure something out."
"HOW LONG HAVE YOU BEEN SAYING THAT?"
I felt a familiar rage well up within me. She was blaming me for this? Just what did I do wrong exactly? Why was it my fault that everyone around us was so selfish that they didn't care how much they ruined our lives?
"WHAT ABOUT YOU THEN? THIS IS YOUR FATHER'S FAULT IN THE FIRST PLACE!" I yelled back.
"SO WHAT DO YOU WANT ME TO DO?"
"You've been saying that he'll listen to you but has he even tried to? How many months have we gone now with no help? If your father wasn't such a selfish bastard-"
SLAP
I had only ever been slapped by my father so when my own wife struck me across the face, I didn't even register it for a moment. It wasn't until I brought my hand to my face and touched my cheek that I began to feel the soreness.
"I know how he is...but that's still my father..." She wasn't bothering to hide her cries anymore.
I didn't have anything else to say. As far as I was concerned, she just made it clear where we stood.
"So go back then."
I took my ring off and threw it at her feet before walking into the bathroom. I could hear her crying even as I turned the shower on, but I didn't care. Why should I? Has anyone ever cared about how they made me feel? While I was showering a thought struck me, a surefire way to get lots of money quickly, a way to escape everything and start anew.
I knew what I had to do.
I always did.
Once I was done with my shower, I walked back into the kitchen. She was still there holding her phone in her hands. She wasn't crying anymore but I could still hear her sniffles as I rummaged around in the drawers.
"Isaac...I'm sorry...I-"
I smiled when I found what I was looking for. "Yeah. I'm sorry too."
Before she could respond, I turned and just like I had all those years ago, I drove a knife into her neck. Grabbing her by the hair, I pulled her to the ground and got on top of her. Unlike with my old man, I didn't wait for her to die. I started cutting through her body while she looked up at me with pleading eyes. She could do nothing but miserably gurgle on her blood while I tore her open and ripped out her insides. By the time I was done, her body was cold. She was young and healthy. I was sure her organs would fetch me a great price but things could never just go the way I wanted them to.
Loud knocking echoed through the apartment. It was then that it dawned on me, that I had no time to dispose of what was left of her or clean the blood. My eyes wandered to the table where her phone was. It was still on? Taking a closer look I realized that she had called her father again...did he...hear her struggling?"
Well shit.
No sooner than when I had made the realization did the apartment door burst open and police came barging inside.
"PUT YOUR HANDS UP!"
What a joke.
"DROP YOUR WEAPON AND PUT YOUR HANDS UP!"
So this is how I go out huh?
"I SAID DROP YOUR WEAPON!"
No. I don't think I will. Why should I? Was it so wrong to want a better life? Was it so wrong to want?
"SIR-"
I didn't wait to hear what other nonsense they were spewing. I simply brought the knife to my neck and did what I had done to my father and wife.
"Is this him?"
It was dark. Did I really die?
"Yup that's him."
Then why can I hear voices?
"Helloooooo? Earth to Isaac!"
...
"Wake up!"
A sharp smack to my face woke me up instantly. "What the hell! Wha...where..."
"Don't strain yourself boy. I'm sure this must be very confusing for you."
My gaze settled on the abnormally tall man in front of me. He wore an elegant fur coat and had neat, slicked-back hair. He took a puff of the cigar between his fingers and grinned, exposing a sharp golden tooth.
"Who-"
"You can call me Mammon."
"...am I dead?"
The person who smacked me snickered. "Yup! You were a real greedy fool huh?"
I pushed myself up. "What are you talking about? I just did what I had to do to survive!"
A low, breathy chuckle came from above. Mammon had moved closer, kneeling down so we were at eye level. "You did well. We like tenacious folks like you here."
"...and where is here exactly?"
"Hell. You fancy a job kid?"
Lost in the absurdity of the situation, I couldn't help but laugh. A job? I couldn't get one while I was alive but as soon as I die, some devil is willing to just throw one in my lap? How ridiculous.
"I should warn you, I don't take too kindly to rejection," said Mammon.
"........fine." What else did I have to lose at this point?
Mammon flashed a toothy grin again and extended a hand for me to take. "Welcome to Morningstar Incorporated kid!"
Present Day
So here I was. 20 years into my afterlife working as a collector of sorts. Oh, how the world goes round. I would say I feel guilty about what I did in my last moments of life but I don't.
I felt a large hand rest on my shoulder. Out of the corner of my eyes, I could see the gleaming rings on each finger and smiled.
"Heard you got two souls in today at record time. Keep up the good work kid."
"Thanks, boss!"
Mammon disappeared around the corner of my cubicle just as my phone began to ring. Clearing my throat, I picked it up and rambled off my usual greeting.
"Hi, there! Thank you for calling! Here at Morningstar Inc, we strive to make all of your wildest dreams come true. My name is Isaac, How can I help you today?"
On to the next sinner!
"Evil Henceforth Became my good."
~Mary Shelley
ns 18.68.41.141da2
