Did The Weekend Sell His Soul 소설 & 이야기

There was a pounding in my ears and an inferno of heat washing through me as he said, “Let’s try that again.” Once again, he pulled the safety down, but like a desperate, scared fool, I blurted out, “I sold it!” He paused. “Say that again?” “I sold it!” I sobbed, feeling myself crumble, “I swear to the goddess I sold it. If you want the money, I can give you the rest of it. It’s more than half of what I made, but I already spent a lot of it. I swear I’m not lying, I sold it! I pawned it! I didn’t want you bothering me about it anymore, and I can’t drive. I swear to you, I don’t have it anymore. I’m not hiding it anywhere!”

' 'One week! 'Yes, it depends on how fast your spiritual power will recuperate.' 'My goodness. What happens if I will really be sold? I will be a whore for a week? I couldn't imagine myself doing that thing!' 'Well, at least you will not end up dying?' Damn. I want to cry!

I watched the screen as Chloe, who had always been conservative, went all out to please Jason. The background was filled with the sound of movement and a woman’s suppressed moans. Jason breathed heavily and asked, “Chloe, who’s better? Me or Shawn?” Chloe’s raspy voice came through, filled with overwhelming pleasure. “Jason, he can’t even compare to you.” Jason’s face revealed unrestrained arrogance and satisfaction. “Since Shawn can’t behave himself, why not sell him to the black market so he can learn some rules? That way, he won’t come back trying to target me again.”

Fasting ! The name of the deranged psychopath, who had been responsible for the auction of cocaine in various parts of the country. The deceased maniac, who had single handedly made a fool out of top secret agents, and almost succeeded in putting an end to the lives of a few more. The sociopath that had more than once escaped the clutches of the law and justice, his was the name at the very top of the most wanted list, his was the name that haunted the dreams of many agents of the CSS, and amongst these many, Sunday was one of them.

" My eyes turned red-rimmed. Having been raised poor, I never fought back when other kids beat me up because I feared my parents wouldn't be able to afford the compensation. Everyone at school knew that there was an idiot who wouldn't fight back or argue when insulted. Even stray dogs on the street seemed to dare to kick me around. Yet now, Mom and Dad blamed me for acting all timid and cowardly. … In the end, I didn't steal the 200 dollars. Instead, I sold the only birthday gift Mom and Dad had ever given me. It was a camera—a piece of junk Clover had discarded, but it still managed to fetch 3,000 dollars.

But tonight, none of that mattered. As I went closer to the bar, my fears kept pulling me back, but no! I grabbed the bottle. "Johnny Walker," the label read. With a twisted grin, I uncapped it and placed it against my lips. I didn’t sip. I gulped. I kept drinking until a sharp pain tore through my chest. I gasped, pressing a hand against my ribs. But then, I laughed again—because Michael Finsch was a disgusting bastard, and I was an even bigger fool.

Not a single thing I could point to and call mine. Tonight he had asked me to do something I couldn't do. Something that crossed a line I hadn't known I still had. And for the first time in six years, I had said no and meant it. "I'm not doing what you're asking," I said. "Not for you. Not for anyone." He opened his mouth to respond. And then the headlights came. They flooded the driveway all at once, blinding and white, cutting through the rain. We both froze. Dorian's grip on my arm went slack for just a second, and I turned my head toward the road.

"What kind of arrangements?" "The kind that will solve all my problems." My stomach twisted. "Ma'am—" "I sold you." The room went silent. I stared at her, with my eyes widened. And a part me believed I didn't hear her properly. "What?" "I sold you." Her voice remained calm, like she was discussing the weather. "To a very powerful man." My vision blurred, tears threatening to spill. "No." The word left my mouth before I even realized. "I'm not going." Veronica laughed. "You don't have much choice." She paused, then continued. "Unless you don't care about what your parents left behind."

Repay. The next morning, I went downstairs mechanically. Dad's face was the same—stone cold, unreadable. "Allena, I need your answer." My lips quivered, my whole body trembled, but my voice was hollow, empty, and dead when I spoke. "I'm ready to sell myself to the man you chose." "Allena!" Mumma gasped, horrified.

“Things that… if they come out… everything collapses. Everything I've built with my strength and resilience. It'll all be snatched away from me like I was never in the picture. These assets are your inheritance, shares that'll make you a great young man when you grow up. I don't want my mistakes to affect you or your mother, that's why I need your help. “I need you to make it disappear. Make them disappear. Whatever it takes.” The words hung there. I should’ve walked out. I should’ve told him to go to hell. But he’d called me son. And I was young and stupid and starving for the one thing he’d never given me. So I leaned back in the chair, my heart thundering, and said the only thing my trait