Day 114 Writing Short Stories

Hearts And Minds Of Men

In the heart of any man lies a foundation of needs and wants. The ones that push them forward. Some come twisted, others with pure intent. Mine has never been about the pure ones. Revenge and hatred consume my heart. I would rather see the entire world burn than let go of what dwells in my heart.

I adjust my position on the saddle. The horse feels my restlessness and shifts its weight beneath me. We watch the little settlement rising like an oasis on the prairie. You could easily mistake the place for peaceful, a paradise, but there in those houses a monster lives, and I’m here to kill him.

It has taken me years to track the man down—the man who killed my parents and siblings. I instinctively reach for my colt. The curses marked on the wood and the metal feel hot on my skin. I don’t mind dying. I don’t mind losing my soul to the Devil as long as death takes what belongs to him.

I tighten my grip on the reins and steer the horse down to the town. People close their shutters and rush inside. They know the burden of their lord.

I dismount and leave my horse loose next to the saloon. He knows what to do if I don’t come back. That has always been our deal. He will have his true form back once I’m dead, or if the mage dies, his debt paid in full for helping to kill my family.

The streets are empty, but I feel eyes on me. If I look up, I could see people hiding behind their curtains, watching me. There is no doubt that some wish me dead, and others wish I would kill their master, the mage, who steals souls for his youth and power. There, in his house, my parents’ souls are trapped inside his hunger. I was promised that once I killed the mage, they would be set free. I exchanged my soul for that knowledge and the curses I carry with me.

I walk to the tallest building in the settlement. It’s flashy, rich, monstrous, leaving the other houses in shame with its ornaments and its size. Blood gets you that. A cold heart lets you have whatever you want. Mine wasn’t like that once. It felt like love and happiness, and it wanted nothing more than to create something beautiful in the world, to help my parents’ farm thrive. But when they died, that was taken from me.

I climb up the stairs to the house and expect the door to be locked, but I’m let in.

The mage sits on the stairs leading to the upper floors, waiting for me. He doesn’t look as terrifying as I remember him to. His burning eyes once froze me in my place, forcing me to watch as he killed everyone I have ever loved, but here and now, the same terror he held then is gone. There is only this pitiful creature, who deserves no sympathy.

“It has taken you longer than I expected,” he says.

I scoff and reach for my gun.

He yanks it out of my hand with a flick of his wrist. The colt flies on the carpet between us.

I ready my curses to cast the Devil to come and get his own, but I can’t get my lips open.

The pitiful creature now smirks. “It’s silly what you are capable of doing, if you don’t care.”

I try to open my mouth, but I can’t.

I rush towards him, but he flicks his hand, and I’m air-bound.

“See, nothing the Devil gives you is for you. And I see you went to the Devil to get what is yours. But he is nothing but loose promises and cunning ways. You should have known better, but no, you followed the path I laid out for you a long time ago. But here is the choice I let you make, that I never got. You can kill me and take my place, as the debt to the Devil needs to be paid. He will make you collect souls for yourself and for him. Or you let me kill you, and I remain to will that onerous task, and your soul will be spared.”

My lips snapped open, and I gasped for breath. “I—”

“Think twice. That’s not the right question.”

I feel a tap on my chest.

“I—”

The tap is there again.

“My… What about my family?”

The mage shakes his head. “They are gone. Nothing can save them. Not killing me. Not becoming me. Not the Devil. But if you die and go to the good place, maybe someone will hear you and help you. I doubt that. They never intervene. They leave us fending for ourselves, and wonder why the hearts and minds of men are godless.”

“I—”

My lips snap shut again.

“That’s not the right choice. You don’t want to become me just because you have dreamed for years to kill me. It’s not worth it. The only person you can change is yourself. The rest is irrelevant.”

My lips released again, and I float down to the floor next to my gun. I reach for it and aim at the mage. I squeeze the trigger, but then release it. I drop to the floor and look up at the mage.

“I thought you were the one to spare when I saw you. Your brother would have killed me, and he would serve the Devil from here to eternity. But I make you a deal: come back here, let’s say fifty years from now, and we do this again. I’ll let you choose again. In that time, get rid of those curses you carry with you. They serve you not right.”

“But—”

“There’s a way. There is always a way. If the Devil can use cunning, then you can too. I’m a lost cause, but you don’t need to be.”

Before I can reply, he pushes me out the door and onto my horse. My head slumps as my heart races to make sense of it.

—

What I got today was a lyrical western about overcoming a monster written in the first person. I instantly knew that I wanted to write magic into it. I also wanted to write it in the present tense. That came to be a hard time, as I’m more used to writing in the past tense. I noticed slipping into the past tense several times, and there were sentences I struggled to write in the present. I had to redo them, and I still don’t think I got them right. But that’s why I do these. Learn, learn, learn. That seems to be all there is to life.

Thank you for reading! Have a soulful day, and see you tomorrow ❤