I just wrote this while I am still working on my second book. This story is unedited
To sell ones soul and still feel that your soul is redeemable, that your soul can still gain entrance to heaven. To sell one’s soul for what they want and what they feel is quality in life. To sell one’s soul for…Prada. To be a fashionista or whichever the term is in regards to men. The high stakes of the fashion industry and the interwoven fabrics of money and glamour. As a man could I, will I be enough to draw the attention of those that seek my attractiveness. My heroism, looking over my body in the mirror denotes my features as above average but what is it that I am missing. I smell under my armpits a neanderthal like gesture but I could easily detect that I smelled good enough. My build was what I or any that looked at me was above average at least in modeling terms.
He went over the words he would say as he walked from each of the corners of his home lighting candles and incense. For the last candle he bit down on the knife that he carried with the intent to slice his palms and draw blood for the blood ritual he was about to perform. By now he had become used to the procedures he would follow. So used to it that he had become aware of the fact that he should probably hide what it is he did. He and others would wonder if it was the ritual that made his sense of humour so beautiful.
I know that at the peak of the hour any zenith that fills the earths can be drawn on. I need even more power than that for this next stage in life and I want to make sure that my offerings are enough to pay the toll. The benefactor of the deal must be aware of the urgency that fills my needs. “Slice” as blood drips along the pentagram he has drawn Strange mutterings enter into his chest and soon begin to swirl around the room. Very low and repeatedly. The room darkens a bit more as shadows begin to leap from the darkest places and lick at the lit candles. A strange aroma fills the room in place of the incense that he had already lit. A smooth voice ask,” How may I be of service to you?” He clears his voice and ask….
The next day
As any other aspiring model would know it. I have many routines that I like to maintain, not only are male facials a weekly and bi daily routine. My overall physical physique must also be above par. Looking over the magazine articles that discuss men’s health and the stock market, I can see that there is some correlation between health and doing well financially. I have learned though that strong correlation does not always mean causation but in this case I believe it is accurate. I enter the coffee shop that I frequent and just at the doorway I pause to take a selfie. The barista who has come to know me as “Adonis” a name I confidently choose and tol her it was for modeling purposes. She smiles and makes an invisible camera as I pose for my own and hers. She prepares my usually skim milk latte and doesn’t forget to ask why I even bother. I tell her it is for my image, she laughs at my honesty. Before long I decide to leave. Too many I seem to be a humble person and I am. I just chose to not disclose that as a satanist or believer in the dark arts that it wouldn’t be polite to not smile every once and a while. Maybe one day I will get her number I only gaffe at the idea that she would say no. I wonder what it would take to convince her. I look her over before I leave, she can’t see the darkness hidden beneath m dark features. I give a brief head nod at anyone else who sees me leave.
Jogging towards my appointed spot my actions repeated so often that I would dare for any one to interrupt them. I had not given my spirit up yet not completely and I ad not yet figured out the recipe for eternal life. I know if I myself could be a practitioner of dark arts there had to be others. Of course there were the few that I knew of but none could at least tell me how to begin. I know there are ways….
I have to include that as who I am I am not really a witch nor a warlock. I am not the devil and aside for a few spells and a lot of curses I choose to be more of a self practitioner of the dark arts. See I have read in a magazine that there is a new modeling agency that needs applicants and I would hope to be one of those applicants. Never before will they see a man such as myself. I have had a few phone interviews with them the called themselves, “Inner Life Beauty” I looked them up often and they had quite an extensive bit of background working with many of the top models across the planet. Providing exotic locals for photo shoots and many other opportunities within the industry. Sports all the way through to acting, I was excited at the chance to join there ranks. I considered selling my soul….
I did not hesitate when my phone rang and I could not hide the excitement in my voice when they said the had a place that I could visit for my first in person interview. This interview would come with a shoot that they could then use to promote my work, saying that they could also place it in any of their affiliate companies and mags. Excitedly I hung up the phone with DC, who says he is not precisely the owner but yes is in a way a part owner of the company as he explained that I too would be if i chose to follow the path they set part. He explained the “Inner Life Beauty” is always looking for a way to grow. I’m Concerned with the sacrifice and must contact my benefactor. I expediantly prepare the ritual and hope that this does not upset any future offerings to the demons that I began to summon.
As the lights dimmed and the candles flickered I could feel my sweat drip down my back. My patience was not with me but it did not seem to matter. I had an answer but it was one that made very little sense. Relieved still I prepared to pack my bags, I gave “Inner Life Beauty” a call. I told them that I was prepared to make the trip and wanted directions to be sure. I asked to speak with my coordinator to ask if I could make any “Special” arrangements as I waited a familiar voice asked, “How can I be of Service to you”…. “La la lala la la la lala la lalalalala la” sings in the background
Strange Notions
By David Vaughn