This is an automated archive made by the Lemmit Bot.
The original was posted on /r/nosleep by /u/Distinct_Employer_47 on 2024-12-27 07:42:31+00:00.
I’d never been a believer in the occult. The idea that all it takes to change your life was a few pentagrams sounded like a campfire story to keep the kids awake at night. It wasn’t until years of bills piling up and my wife screaming at me every night about how I don’t do enough to keep us afloat that the idea stopped seeming so ridiculous.
To be honest with you, my life was truly a mess; My marriage was falling apart and I was working a dead end back office job that I hated, so long story short, I was miserable at work and miserable at home. In fact, I couldn’t even remember the last time I’d smiled and I wasn’t entirely sure I still knew how.
It was a cold Friday morning and the snow fell heavily outside my window as I got ready for work. I sprayed a thick cloud of deodorant on the suit I’d been wearing all week, all the while looking at my wife who lay in bed facing the opposite side of the room. I knew she was awake but this was no longer the type of marriage where good mornings and kisses goodbye were exchanged. Truthfully the only reason we were still together was for the sake of our daughter, Jane.
Jane was a quiet kid she never made a fuss or caused problems at home and for some reason that rubbed me the wrong way. She seemed to live a carefree life, oblivious to the hell I was living and I hated her for that. Why did she get to be happy when I was just one bad day away from putting a Remington 1911 in my mouth and meeting God?
I left the house and trudged through the snow on my way to the train station and with each step I got more and more tired with my life. Just then I passed a convenience store with a big sign that said:
FIVE MILLION DOLLAR SCRATCH CARD BONANZA!!! TEN LUCKY WINNERS TO BE SELECTED
“Wouldn’t it be fun to win that“ I thought with a self deprecating laugh knowing I’d never been that lucky in my life. As I kept walking I passed a shop that I’d never seen before, the window read “idle hands” with a picture of baphomet under it. For some reason something compelled me to enter (eh, why not? I was early for work anyway). So I went in. The shop smelt of incense as a thin plume of smoke rose from a burning stick in the corner. A grungy looking young woman with tattoos and piercings greeted me from behind a black wooden counter. “Welcome”, she said sweetly. “Does any of this shit work?” I said as I picked up a realistic looking skull from a shelf. “If you want it bad enough” she retorted, sounding like someone who’d been asked this question a million times. “Okay, I’ll play along” I thought as I explained my situation to her and I explained everything, my bitch wife, my daughter I hated. everything. To be honest I wasn’t even looking for a solution I just wanted to vent at this point and she listened intently to my entire rant simply replying, “why don’t you kill them?”
“What?” I asked, disappointed by the realisation that this woman was clearly as batshit as she looked. “Okay, I’m done here” I said and as I turned to leave she put a small dainty hand on my shoulder and assured me that she was serious. She then explained what blood pacts were and how I could have anything I wanted If I was willing to pay the right price. “So what do you want?” She asked me. “To win the lottery next door”, I replied jokingly. She scribbled on a paper and says “go buy a ticket but before you scratch it say these words while thinking of your wife and child”, “Make SURE you say the whole thing” she emphasised.
“Whatever”, I said as I walked out with the paper in my hand fully intending to scrunch it up and go about my day, but when I stepped outside something told me to try it. A little inkling that said it couldn’t hurt to do just once. Soon enough, I found myself in the corner store.
” one scratch card please”
The man behind the counter fished a card out from a box and handed it to me, it was leaf green with gold dollar signs on it. *well at least their design team tried to be original *, I thought as I began to recite the words given to me:
“infra pater, da potestatem tuam, mea voluntas, si tua liberalitas mea est”
I said it in a voice that was just above a whisper, thinking about my wife and daughter as instructed, then proceeded to scratch the silver strip revealing two simple words:
YOU WIN
I must’ve have read that wrong. I turned the card over and back again only to see the same words that I’d read moments before:
YOU WIN
I staggered backwards and showed the old man behind the counter my ticket. He took off his reading glasses in disbelief and immediately handed me a flyer with information on how to collect my prize. The instructions were simple enough; call a number and inform them that you’ve won and they will get back to you with a date to collect your cheque.
Just like that my life had changed.
I was rich.
After that the days flew by and I remembered it all through rose coloured glasses. I remembered how my boss screamed at me for being late, to which I grabbed my crotch and told him to suck it. I remember how my wife screamed at me for not paying the bills, unaware that I was now a millionaire. I remember cashing my cheque and realising all of this was real and I also remember the voices. With each day they became louder and louder. First appearing in dreams as nothing but a whisper. Then as a deafening noise that screamed inside my head yelling all sorts of threats and blasphemy. It told me that the death of my wife and child was a necessary measure if I wanted to avoid what would inevitably happen next. So I began to in-act a plan, hopefully a good one.
Contrary to popular belief, I wasn’t stupid. I knew that a bad plan would mean jail time. It would mean not being able to enjoy the money that I’d possibly traded my soul for. So I spent weeks planning, making sure not to Google or search for any information that would lead to my crime (I’ve watched enough crime shows to know that’s an easy way to become a suspect) and finally I reached a solid plan, I would place a curtain in a dust bin full of paper and drop a cigarette in there. No gasoline or paraffin as I knew that firefighters can tell when an accelerant had been used (once again, crime shows). I’d never been a smoker but I figured this was an exception. And so, I waited, waited till my wife got home, waited until they’d both gone to sleep, lit a large cigar and thrown it in the bin. Soon enough, smoke began to plume from out of it starting as a thin stream, eventually turning into a thick cloud of black smoke and before long, the curtain was alight. I ran downstairs, out of the house and into the garage where I lit a cigarette as my alibi. A married man that was trying to quit smoking; sneaking the occasional cigarette in the garage after everyone went to bed. Unbeknownst to him the house was on fire and before he could get inside the blaze was too big. Foolproof.
My wife and child died of smoke inhalation. Firefighters came and then police got involved. There was a bit of suspicion given my recent lottery winnings but they found no life insurance policies or signs of infidelity so the case was ruled as an accident. I was scot-free. Free to be rich in peace and boy did I enjoy it. I pretended to grieve for a few months and then bought a yacht in Cabo that I used to sail around South America, enjoying all that life had to offer.
That was until this year. The voices were back, but this time they said something different and one night as I began to fall asleep, I felt that same dainty hand on my shoulder, followed by a sweet voice saying, “Time’s up”.