The Devil's Bargain

My name is Biff Wellington and I am a researcher of odd abnormalities. I do this not as a profession, but rather as a hobby with a fringe benefit of gaining greater insight into the world I reside in. My most recent exploit has brought me deep into the jungles of Haiti where I am told I can find a dilapidated tower stronghold, with a grizzly history. It is said this particular place holds great historic value as it once served as a watchtower for King Cristophe, who built many strongholds within the Haitian jungles, of which only this tower is still left standing. Many believed Cristophe to be in league with the devil, or that he utilized a form of Voodoo black magic to accomplish this work. It is precisely these rumors that I am drawn to investigate this place myself and ascertain the validity of these stories, or if it is simply meant to scare children from entering the jungle.

I began my trip by visiting a highly recommended travel agency known as "De Other Side" and met with it's proprietor, Samti the Baron. Samti, clad in a fancy black attire, with a steampunk hat and half of his face tattooed in white voodoo markings that appeared as if to be his skull. Despite his intimidating visage, he was an eccentric and kind man who even offered to take me directly to the tower. The ride there was as auspicious as it was scenic, with Samti regaling me of the Tower's history on the ride there. "Dey be right to be afeared O' dis towah man. Ain' no towah stand upright two hunnid years witout comin down less it be made wit some kinda hoodoo." The Baron spoke almost as if he knew the tower's entire history and had seen it himself, but that didn't seem likely as he was a man of probably 45 to 50 and the tower was, as he said, over 200 years old. I dismissed his words as just local superstition and fright. After all, he couldn't actually know anything about the construction of the tower, magic or otherwise.

We arrived at the tower, and it was precisely what I had thought it would be...a dump. It looked to be only an old tower with strange curves and markings upon it that might inspire the imagination of some Etymologist, but not me. Nothing abnormal or supernatural seemingly about, other than a strange resonance that seemed to come from within. Samti propped up onto his Jeep that we arrived in and suggested I venture inside to look for anything that might be interesting. I laughed his suggestion off, saying there was no way I would find anything interesting or valuable within. His brow furrowed and his face darkened, and he stared at me with low eyes and a bright smile. "Do ye care to make a bet? Ima be bettin that you go in dere and walk out wit sumtin valuable or me name ain't ole Baron Samti. Wudeva yeh find belong to ye and yeh can keep it for it's worth, but only if ye let me keep sumtin off the top, do we ave a deal?" I was so very confused by this offer that I did not even consider it to be serious, and thus agreed, nearly knowing it would be a fruitless endeavor to begin with. I made my way inside while the Baron waited by the Jeep. I turned to see him smoking a long cigar and smiling from below his hat at me the entire time I walked inside the tower, as if he was counting on something particular to occur.

Once inside, I saw that there were only a few rooms and began to investigate them. The rooms were filled with fallen rubble and debris, but somehow oddly well kept despite everything. I suppose a lack of human presence somehow lended a natural organization to this decay. After a brief search I found a room with an altar...laden with bones. I was initially very frightened by this but I began to write it off as kids playing pranks or something to that effect. I noticed that on top of this altar lied a book, etched with strange symbols along the spine and the cover. Seeing as it was the only item there, I would have to take a look and see if it was anything worth mentioning to the Baron. When I opened the book, a rush surged through me and I began to hear the whispers of some unknown presence speaking to me in a language I could only assume was long dead. I was filled with visions of myself flooded with wealth, luxury, and my cup running over. I knew not how these things were possible but I knew that it could not be a reality, and it was most likely that I was having a fever dream from the heat or something. I tucked the book away and did not disclose it to Baron Samti once we left. He drove me back to De Other Side in silence and we parted ways. Before I went to get onto my bus back to the airport, he called out to me and said "I hope ye found wut ye be lookin for man. Remember our deal, ye wuddnt be lyin to ole Baron Samti wud ye?" At this I scoffed and explained that I found nothing and that the deal was null as a result. He smiled and waved goodbye in the distance as I left.

When I returned home, I was on my last legs of financial stability. The trip to Haiti was a last ditch effort to make some money and now I may have to face up to getting a job at some nonsense place. As I was watching TV in my general despair, I heard some self help guru say "if you want something, you should write it down to remind yourself" and so I wrote down the easiest and first thing to mind in the black book I found "I'd like to win the lottery". As a means of doubling down, I actually bought a lotto ticket in hopes that my 300 million to 1 chance of winning the billion dollar pot would come through. I bought the ticket and saw the drawing from the store in that moment. It was a really odd call, because each number that came up was just "6". I checked my ticket and there it was, 4 sixes all neatly lined up. I nearly fainted when I called the lotto line and was told I was the exclusive winner of the billion dollar lotto and I could collect it immediately.

Life was forever changed for me. I stopped doing my research trips, I stopped even finding interest in the things that had once thrilled me. I had money, and that came with power. Life was going to be a breeze for me, all because of a chance I took on something with impossible odds. I was able to play the stock market and my fortune continued to rise as a result of that. I wrote all of my goals in this little black book and it somehow seemed to bring these wishes to life. I thought it could be crazy magic, but dismissed it as my previously grandiose imagination dwindled down to a sense of cynical self worth and importance. That is until one day, I heard a knock at my door.

There stood Baron Samti, garbed in black and his steampunk hat, standing in my archway with a grin. He said "I be comin to collect him debt dat ye owe me. Ow ye be payin me, cash or credit?" I explained to him that I didn't owe him anything as we never had a deal. He laughed in a way that reached down to the pits of spirit and I felt chills running down my spine. "Perhaps ye didn know dis but, I KNEW that liddle book be in dat towah man, I left it dere meself. It be me own notebook, infused wit me own mojo so ta speak. I had lost it in dat tower and couldn't seem ta find it, maybe some kind of powah stoppin me, maybe because it had me mojo and I lost sight of me own powahs. But you, ye find it for me aftah makin a deal and ye no share in de wealth it afforded yeh. That be hurtin ole Baron Samedi's feelings man. For dat ye gonna suffer de wrath of de Loa of Death!"

And then it all went dark. As quickly as it had come, the life of leisure had become a life of pain and despair. My sight became completely black and all I could hear around me was the silent screams I myself was making, echoing into a nebula of eternity. Of course he knew about the tower, he made a deal with King Christophe to build the strongholds with his own magic, and subsequently destroyed them when the king refused to pay tribute. I refused to honor a deal and was absorbed as a story in his damned little black book.