My Soul

I recently sold my soul…

I called up a demon at a crossroad, out in the middle of the woods, as is traditional with these matters, and offered up the essential, immortal bit of myself that demons traditionally seek.

And he was very impressed.

Apparently, comparatively few people bother with the old ways anymore, and when somebody goes to the trouble, it’s appreciated by those in the know. Craftsmanship, and what not.

That’s a selling your soul fun fact, by the way. Demons appreciate craftsmanship. If you ever choose to sell your own I hope the information serves you well.

In return for my soul, I asked for immortality, because really, if you’re pulling the trigger on something like this you might as well go big on the asking price, you might as well go as big as you can possibly imagine. It’s your soul, after all, and you only get the one, so go big or go home.

Or, in my case, go big and then go home. I asked for immortality, and it was quickly granted. I don’t know if the demon had some big scheme to cheat me of my prize, or if he just appreciated my combination of commitment to tradition and gumption, but he paid my price with a smile on his face, even asking if there were anything else I might want in addition.

And there was.

I asked that he take my soul there and then, at the crossroad, that my mind and body might live forevermore without it.

My soul, you see, had at some point or other become a burden to me. Existence is a hard thing, as you well know, and I’d seen what felt at the time like far more than my fair share of tragedy. I could not bear the grief, the sadness, the thousand tiny cuts that living in the modern world had inflicted upon me, and I’d hoped that, without a soul, accepting my lot in this world might be a little easier.

You cannot be weary to your very soul, after all, if you have no soul with which to feel the weariness.

So I asked, and the demon obliged, glad as he was to take his payment without needing more than a minimum of effort, and I’ve been soulless ever since. Which some would call a tremendous tragedy.

Some would say that without a soul, however long my body and mind might live on, my existence has no meaning, that there is no purpose to my presence here on earth, that I am nothing. And this might well be, who am I to say?

I’m not here to debate metaphysics; I’m simply here to explain the choices I made that have brought me to this point.

Because this point, I’ve got to admit, is a magnificent place to be. The moment my soul was taken, all the worry and pain and grief and self-doubt that had plagued me went with it. It was as though a weight had been lifted from my shoulders, and for the first time in my life I felt truly free.

I walked forward from the deal soulless and, finally, genuinely happy. And there has been not one moment where I have regretted the decision I made.

Also: I am now immortal. And while that wasn’t the real reason I unburdened myself of my cumbersome soul, it is a not inconsiderable perk. I don’t doubt the coming millennia will be fascinating to see.

Admittedly, I’ve been killing WAY more people than usual, lately. But that’s neither here nor there.

Two roads diverged in a wood, you see, and at the crossroad I sold my soul. And it’s made all the difference…