Why Do I Own Millions Of Souls? (III END)

The atmosphere of the office place was a quiet one, though the background sounds of the keyboard keys rattling for hours on end combined with the never stopping sound of printers printing god knows what could probably drive someone mad enough to consider ending their own lives.

And now, as I was reaching the end of my shift, the open window next to Jean from the financing department on the other side of the hall looked inappropriately enticing.

I shook my head, somehow hoping the intrusive thoughts would magically fall out of my head, but it was of no use.

I exhaled tiredly and checked my wristwatch. Thirty minutes until the end of my shift. I just have to endure for another thirty minutes.

Easy enough.

I took a breath and opened up Tetris on my phone and prayed to whatever deity existed out there, evil or just, chaotic or lawful, that my boss wouldn't come to check in on me in another thirty minutes.

[x]

I parked my car in my private parking space inside the apartments property and reclined in my seat. God, was I the only one who found driving so stressful? Taking my phone out of my pocket, I checked the time. 3:40 in the evening.

Turning off the engine and taking my keys, I got out and entered the apartment building. I greeted the receptionist, as usual, and made way to the elevator.

I only made it halfway there before the receptionist whose name I could not remember stopped me in place.

"Uh, door 103?"

Did they really to call us by our door numbers rather than, you know, using our names?

I took a breath and dreaded the social interaction.

The receptionist had brown hair, reaching to her shoulders and stopping there and light make-up adorned her oval face. Wearing a pair of generic sport shoes, she stood at an average of 164 cm, or 5ft 4 to the Americans reading. Her name tag read, "Jane."

"Yes, that's me. Anything's the matter?"

"It appears so that you have an unexpected visitor. Please, door 103, whenever you're having a visitor, you must notify management and—"

Sweat started rolling down my forehead, and I rudely cut her off mid lecture, "Wait wait, an unexpected visitor? You gave him the keys to my apartment!?"

She looked bemused at me cutting her off, "Uh, duh? He knew the passcode you gave us so we assumed he was a co-worker. Gave him the keys and all."

I gulped. I never gave the password to anyone. Not to my co-workers, family, or non-existent friends otherwise. Not a single soul should've known the password to get past my apartment's door. And now management gave the keys of my home to a stranger who guessed my passcode.

Shit shit shit shit. What do I do? Do I call the cops? Or do I notify security and then cops second? No wait, my PS5! The visitor could've stolen them! Fuck!

I hastily thanked Jane, the receptionist, and speed walked into the elevator shaft, fingers already slamming the 14th floor key with the intensity matching that of a man deprived of oxygen and water.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the doors 'dinged!' and I was at the door of my apartment before they were even open all the way through.

I breathed in, and out. In, and out. Calm. I need to calm. For all I knew, the PS5 would be there, all safe and untouched.

I put my hand on the door handle and inserted the keys. A little diagonal push and the door opened.

I sighed in blissful relief. It felt like a weight was taken off my shoulders. There, wedged safely between my blanket, was my PS5.

I crossed the my apartment room in big steps, past the white colored kitchen, the spruce colored wooden closet and the kitchen table where a man was sitting and sipping a cup of tea peacefully and finally laid my hands on my precious Playstation 5 Monster Energy Limited—

Wait a fucking second. Wait wait wait.

I looked behind me, and lo and behold, there he was, dressed in a fancy suit, wearing black gloves, his blond hair resting stop his head. Sitting peacefully without a care in the world, sipping a cup of tea as if he was in his natural habitat, and not in my own fucking house.

God fucking dammit. What was wrong with today!?

Ok ok ok, I can handle this. No problem. At all.

Let's start by a simple greeting.

"Hello?"

The man continued drinking his tea.

"Uh, mister? You do know that this is my home, right?"

The man gave me a cursory glance and said, "Certainly."

I grind my teeth. "And so, please tell, why are you exactly in here without my permission? And how did you even get the passcode!?"

The man finished his cup of tea, put it on the table, and laced his hands elegantly on the table.

"Take a seat," he said.

Ignoring the fact that someone was ordering me around in my own house, I stood up and took a seat across from him, and being directly in front of him meant that I was under the weight of his stare.

His eyes, colored a deep toxic green, seemed to radiate energy. Eyes half-closed, he gazed down on me, like I was beneath him, and said one word.

"One."

Beneath his stare, I struggled to utter an answer, but I finally managed a meek, "what?"

"You have one day to transfer the ownership of souls to His Majesty before His Majesty rains down hellfire upon your existence."

I blinked stupidity. Souls? His Majesty? Hellfire? The fuck?

I scratched my chin confusedly, "Uhh, dude, I think you got the wrong address, the cosplayer festival is like, miles from here."

Naively, I continued, "Anyways bro, good prank, kind of silly and your eye contacts are actually good shit but—"

Green fire manifested into existence all around us. The flames licked my skin, impossibly hot and cold at the same time. Nothing was burning, not the furniture, not my skin or anything, but it was getting harder to breathe by the second. Staring into their eyes, I saw my own soul, and realized how close I am to Death. So, so, so dangerously close, I was almost cuddling the Grim Reaper.

The man reiterated, eyes still half-open, like everything was normal and the world wasn't baked in impossibly large and green flames, like the manifestation of Death didn't have their blade figuratively hugging my neck.

"One day. Twenty four hours. That is all the time His Majesty has graced you with. Be forever grateful. Mortal."

And then everything was back to normal. No slithering green flames. No the weight of the world on your shoulders. No predatory gazes locking you in place. Fuck, the cup of tea even disappeared too!

I shivered, an electrical current running through my spine, all the way to my brain.

God, I hate my life and job! Why do I own millions of souls!?