Week 7 Story - You'll Find Your Dreams at a Crossroads

It was nearing midnight, and though the moon shone full, it was still dark. Justin walked forward, tentatively, following an old path in the woods. He had heard the legends. The hushed whispers of the folk of the town he grew up in. That there was something that could give him anything he had ever wanted. Something unnatural. He heard the rumors: that you had to bring gifts – an offering of sorts. He had spent the last week meticulously gathering what he needed: a yarrow flower, a cat’s paw, human blood – your own blood.  

You’ll find your dreams at a crossroads. It was a phrase well recorded with the town. Every victim of an unsolved murder within the last hundred years in his town had the phrase carved into one of their arms. Granted, there weren’t many of them, but there were enough to make people wonder. The phrase repeated in his mind over and over. He grew nervous.

The Crossroads

Justin stopped. In front of him, the path split. A crossroads, he thought. He was there, though part of him hoped he wasn’t. Anxiously he walked towards the middle. He pulled a small jar out of his backpack. Justin hesitated. He considered again for the millionth time if he actually wanted to go through with this. He did.

Justin pulled out a small gardening tool and made a hole in the earth. He placed the jar into it and covered it back over. Then, he waited. Justin stood up and peered into the forest. He half expected someone to walk out of the trees and greet him. But, then again, he didn’t really know what he expected. He didn’t even know if this would work.

“Poor timing, as per usual.” A voice appeared behind him.

Justin froze. Slowly, he somehow managed to muster the courage to turn to face the voice. In front of him was a tall but slender man. He had dark hair, dark eyes, and was wearing a dark suit. “I’m s-sorry, what?” Justin managed to stammer out.

“I was in the middle of a discussion on the value of – ” the man cut himself off. “Well I suppose that doesn’t matter now. Business is business.”

“Business?” Justin asked?

“You summoned me here, no?” The man now questioning Justin.

“Y-yes.” Justin said, almost under his breath.

“That means were here to do business. What do you want?” The man asked.

“What do I want?” Justin responded confused.

“You’re here because there is something you want. Something you need. And I can give it to you…” The man smiled slyly.

“Anything I want?” Justin asked, now interested.

“Anything.” The man replied.

“What’s the price?” Justin questioned.

“Whats the price?” The man spent a few moments laughing before settling down and icily staring into Justin. "Simple. Your soul."

Justin had to fight back the urge to laugh. He didn’t believe in any god, and he hadn't since he was a child. He had no problem handing over his soul because he didn’t believe they were real. But, he considered for a moment: if this man really could give him anything, then maybe he could actually take his soul.

Growing impatient, the man pressed him, “So, what do you want?”

Justin paused for a moment, he knew what he wanted. He had known what he wanted for a long time. “What I want is…” Justin began with tears starting to well in his eyes, “What I want is for my wife to be cured of cancer. I want her to be able to live the rest of her life without that awful disease. I want her to live… please.”

“Hmmm…” The man paused. “I could give you money, fame, women, men... I could give you power beyond your wildest dreams, the power to make all bow before you... and yet you choose that?”

“I do.” Justin replied, regaining his composure.

“Such a selfless choice… and such wasted potential.” The man scoffed. “But, if that is what you want, that is what you will get.”

The man reached into his suit pocket and pulled out a piece of paper and a pen.

“Sign this, and our little deal will be official.” The man said.

Justin took the pen and paper from his hand. He unfurled the paper. It was a contract. Justin took a few minutes to read it. He found nothing that wasn’t already stated and hoped there wasn't anything that he missed. He signed it. As soon as he had dotted the I in his name, he felt his arm start to burn. He dropped the pen and the contract on the ground as he frantically pulled up his sleeve. On his arm he saw words begin to spell themselves out as they were seemingly being burned into his skin. You’ll find your dreams at a crossroads. Then, as soon as they had appeared, they vanished.

“Just a reminder of our little arrangement here.” The man said with a sly smile.

Justin looked up from staring at his arm and the man was gone. Rattled, he made his way home. Within three days he was able to bring his wife home from the hospital for the first time in over 5 months.

Author’s Note

In the original story Indra asks Karna for his armor so that he can give it to his son to protect him. Karna refuses and demands something in return. Indra agrees and gives him a powerful weapon. I replaced Indra with a man looking to help his wife and Karna with a crossroads demon. Instead of a powerful weapon, I replaced the item that Indra gives with the stereotypical object of desire for a crossroads demon.

References

PDE Mahabharata

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