I sat on the edge of my bed, hefting the handle of the gun in my hand. I practiced bringing it to my head a few times, coming closer to pulling the trigger each time. I was at my limit. Everything I did felt like it wasn’t enough, and I felt like I was dragging those I loved down. My self hate had finally gotten to me, and I couldn’t go on living any longer. As I stared at the weapon, a voice with a slight Gaelic brogue spoke up from the opposite corner of the room.
“If yer looking for a tool to do the job, that right there’s yer one.”
I whipped around in shock to see a middle aged man in a worn brown trench coat and a flat cap sitting on my couch. He had the sort of thin wispy mustache you’d expect to see on a cartoon villain, with a curled wry smile to match.
“Seen it happen all the time before, that .44 will paint a brain matter masterpiece all over that wall. I mean Jesus, yer brain might be worth more there than it is sitting in yer head right now.”
Not only had I never seen him before, but I lived alone. Yet this complete stranger was sitting right there in my studio encouraging me to shoot myself.
“What the fuck? Who are you?” I stammered out, raising the gun towards him.
His thin smile faded. “Now that, lad, would be a VERY bad idea. Not only would it ruin my good mood, but also our chance to make a deal.”
With the gun still raised towards him, I tried to process what he was saying. “What the fuck are you talking about? Is this some sort of deal for my soul bullshit?”
He shook his head. “Nah, I stopped making those kinds of deals a long time ago, and I’m not “the devil,” like all ya folks seem to think. I used to make deals with more open ended premises, but folks took advantage of it.” He frowned. “Made a deal with a fella in the 13th century granting him the ability to keep his bird up whenever he wanted on the condition he couldn’t fall in love no matter how much he wanted, but wouldn’t ya know it the fucker went on to populate half of east Asia.”
He clasped his hands together as he got up, my gun still trained on him. “Ya live and ya learn I suppose. No, the deals I make now are of more immediate consequence, something more tangible. You lot have usually taken to calling me the Dealmaker, as uncreative as it is. I spell out the conditions for ya beforehand, no tricks, no secret fuckery. Ya wanna hear me out or are ya still intent on using that thing tonight?” He glared, nodding to the revolver still pointed at his head. I lowered the gun. I figured I had nothing to lose at this point, so I decided to hear him out.
“Go on.”
“Right, so here it is: I thrive off human suffering. That’s my business, but I run it fair and square. I grant ya a desire of yours, and in return ya lend me a part of your body. What ya want is what ya get, and what’s agreed upon is what ya lose, nothing more and nothing less.”
At first, I wanted to tell him absolutely not and to get the fuck out. Half a second ago I had been close to taking my own life, but now I’d never been more concerned about keeping my body intact. But I began to run through all the scenarios his proposal could lead to, and decided to at least humor the idea. “What body parts are you talking about taking?”
He smiled slightly. “Well, I’m not of the mind to negotiate, so the deals I give ya are how it’s gonna be, take it or leave. That being said, seeing as yer about to remove yourself from God’s holy creation, I’ll lean my first offer in yer favor. For a fingernail, I’ll let ya live a month without yer mental illness weighing ya down.”
It almost sounded too good to be true. Just a fingernail? I was expecting a lot more for a lot less. I jumped at the chance to say yes. “Yes! Absolutely! I thought it’d be a lot worse to be honest.”
His slight smile twisted into a wicked grin. “There we go lad, knew you’d like that one. You know how these things go, seal the deal with a shake.” He extended his hand, and I immediately met it with a firm grip. As I did so, he removed a pair of pliers from his coat pocket with the opposite hand. Before I even knew what was happening, he ripped out out the nail of my pinky finger in one swift motion, like it had been practiced thousands of times before. I fell to the ground, writhing in pain.
“What the hell?! That’s how you do this!?”
He chuckled. “What? Did you think I was yer fairy fucking godmother and used a pissing wand? I told ya lad, suffering is my business. But deal’s a deal. Things should start to clear up on yer end right about now.”
Despite the horrible pain in my finger, I began to think more clearly. All of the issues I had been suffering through had been solvable, I was surrounded by people who loved and believed in me. The issue was that I was never content with my accomplishments, despite doing so much. I deserved to be loved, just as I loved other people.
The Dealmaker leaned in close, close enough to detect the faint smell of cigarettes on his breath. “Pleasure doing business with ya lad, I get the feeling this isn’t the last time I’ll see ya.”
He walked to the door and exited, not looking back as he did. I jumped to my feet and ran after him, wanting to see where he went. But as soon as he closed the door and I opened it, he was gone. The hallway was completely barren with no places to hide, so it’s not as if he ran off quickly. After wrapping my finger in bandages, I sat on my the edge of my bed, mulling over everything that just happened in my head. I looked at the gun, still laying on the ground, and felt disgusted that I had even considering using it in the first place. I had so much to live for, and now was the time to start.
The next month was one of the best I’d had in years. I enjoyed being myself, and had never accomplished more in such a short period of time. I never let failures keep me down for long, and was content with my place in life. I was happy with those around me, knowing I was loved and valued for who I was. The fingernail the Dealmaker took didn’t grow back, but I had nearly forgotten about it. I was happy.
Then, the end of the month came. Slowly, the joy I had been experiencing began to fade. Self doubt crept back in, and I found myself falling back into old habits that led me back to the melancholic depression of my life the month before. I began drinking to forget the sorry state of my life. One night, after a night of blacking out and getting kicked out of a bar, I stumbled back into my apartment to see the Dealmaker sitting on my couch again, grinning nearly ear to ear. I fell to my knees in front of him.
“Please! Let me go back! I need to go back to the way it was! I’ll give you anything to make it permanent!”
He stood up and got me to my feet. “I do love repeat customers. I’ll grant ya a years worth of the month you’d just had… but let’s start with the arm,” he said as he took a large axe from the inside of his trench coat.