The Pact

This story is by J. H. O’Rourke and was part of our 2019 Summer Writing Contest. You can find all the writing contest stories here.

“I killed him. I murdered my husband.”

“No, Briana, you didn’t. Andrew died in a horrible accident.” Tara laid her fork on the coffee table and pulled her best friend close. “Oh, sweetie. Your grief is so raw. I wish I could make the pain go away.”

Briana shook her head, tears streaming down her pale cheeks. “He wouldn’t have left the office that day if I hadn’t called in sick. He wouldn’t have been on the road…”

“Briana, listen to me. It’s not your fault you had the stomach flu. It’s not your fault that woman ran a red light. None of this is your fault.”

“Tell that to my heart.” Overcome with guilt and mental exhaustion, Briana pushed the full plate of food in front of her to one side. “I need to lie down.” She stood and made her way to the fold-up cot in a corner of Tara’s tiny one-room studio apartment.

~ ~ ~

Persistent ringing startled Briana awake. She reached out to turn off the alarm clock, but her hand struck the wall instead. She opened her eyes.

Why am I sleeping on the couch?

A wave of nausea reminded her.

The doorbell rang again.

That must be Andrew stopping home to see how I’m doing.

Smiling, she unlocked the deadbolt. “You forgot your key again…” she began, pulling the door open. She was met with the solemn stares of two police officers.

Briana’s heart dropped into her stomach. She took a step back.

“Mrs. Gordon?” the older man asked. Briana wanted to scream but nodded instead. “May we come in?”

Shaking so violently her teeth chattered, Briana found her voice. “Please, just tell me what’s wrong. Please… Is it Andrew? Is he okay?”

“Mrs. Gordon, we regret to inform you your husband was involved in a motor vehicle accident. Emergency personnel did everything they could but he died at the scene. I’m so sorry for your loss.”

~ ~ ~

Died at the scene… died at the scene…

The awful words repeated over and over in Briana’s head, like a broken record. Her eyes flew open. Drenched in sweat, heart pounding in reaction to the horrifying nightmare she suffered through night after night, Briana squinted at her watch. 2:13 am.

She glanced at Tara, sound asleep on the daybed that doubled as a couch.

Quietly, careful not to wake her friend, Briana rifled through her duffel bag for her sleeping pills. Taking one may induce a sleep deep enough to keep the nightmares from finding her.

Low, urgent voices emanated from the TV a few feet away. A child cried. A man begged someone to save his wife. “I can’t live without her…”

Briana understood. She couldn’t live without Andrew either. She would do anything to have him back. Her life had become meaningless. The flashbacks and nightmares were bad enough, the hallucinations even worse. But the never-ending sense of doom was unbearable. She had absolutely nothing to look forward to.

This wasn’t living; it was existing. But what could she do?

Go to him, a voice in her mind answered.

Rather than becoming alarmed, Briana felt strangely at peace. Maybe that was the answer. Leaving this world would end her suffering.

Go to him…

Yes. That would work. It wasn’t as if she would be leaving a bereaved family behind. Briana, an only child raised by a single parent, lost her mother to cancer a year earlier. She had no children of her own. With Andrew gone, Tara was the only person who truly cared about her. They had grown up together and couldn’t be closer if bonded by blood.

You’re nothing but a burden to her, the voice insisted.

Briana believed this to be true. If she were gone, Tara wouldn’t have to leave the beloved studio apartment she had lived in since college.

A month earlier, Briana had been admitted to the hospital by her therapist to help determine which medications should be prescribed as treatment for her depression, insomnia, delusions, and PTSD. Tara had been her only visitor.

The day before Briana was to be discharged, Tara had suggested that Briana sell her house and move in with her instead.

“I know my place is small, but we can find a bigger one.” Tara had told her.

“Tara, you love your apartment. You’ve lived there for years.”

“Yes. But I love you more.”

And, just like that, it was settled. Briana moved in with Tara the very next day.

~ ~ ~

Brianna examined her collection of sleeping tablets, antidepressants, antipsychotics, and anxiety medications.

If swallowed all at once, Briana felt confident she would fall into a sleep from which she would never awaken. She emptied the contents onto the cot and began counting.

To be certain her plan would work, Briana decided to do some online research to confirm the number of pills she had on hand would result in her death. She turned on her laptop and waited for it to boot up.

As Briana asked Google for the lethal doses of her medications, an annoying pop-up appeared on the screen.

The ad featured a pale-skinned, pretty blonde cupping a dark crystal in her manicured hands. The caption read: ‘You have been chosen. I will fulfil your heart’s greatest desire … for the right price.’

Briana felt captivated by the woman’s pale blue eyes. They seemed to stare back at Briana as if seeing her. The effect was hypnotic. It took all of Briana’s strength to look away. She moved her mouse to exit the screen when a chat box appeared.

…Kasdeya is typing…

“Greetings, my name is Kasdeya. Is something missing in your life? Something you would pay any price to obtain…or have returned to you?”

Briana hovered her mouse pointer over the ‘X’ in the top right corner of the chat box to close it. A wave of dizziness stopped her. After it passed, she typed her own message instead.

“Can you return my dead husband to me?”

Heart racing, swallowing a sob, Briana pressed ‘enter’.

…Kasdeya is typing…

“Yes. What are you prepared to pay?”

Briana smelled a scam. Logic told her Andrew returning from the grave was impossible. But she couldn’t seem to stop herself from replying.

“I don’t have much money. But I can give you anything else, do anything you want.”

A part of Briana understood she was being ridiculous; she should end this. A sliver of hope disagreed.

…Kasdeya is typing…

“The highest bid I’ve received for the return of a deceased loved one stands at four million dollars. I require an offer of greater value to grant your wish.”

All reason left Briana. She desperately tried to think of something, anything, she could offer to make her wish come true.

“Can I offer a body part? Provide a service to you? Sell my soul? Please… There’s nothing I wouldn’t do.”

Briana waited for several minutes, but there was no response.

Feeling foolish, with all her hope depleted, she moved to close the chat screen.

…Kasdeya is typing…

“Will you kill a person of my choosing in exchange for the return of your husband?”

Without hesitation, Briana typed her answer.

“Yes!!”

…Kasdeya is typing…

“Your agreement to my terms has been accepted. You are the highest bidder. Your wish has been granted, pending payment. You must kill the person who loves you more than any other. Once this task has been completed, your husband will return from the dead and reunite with you.”

The chat box disappeared.

Briana had an impossible choice to make.

Kill Tara and reunite with Andrew. Or take her own life.

What if the afterlife is a dark, black void? The voice taunted.

What if it is? What if taking my life doesn’t lead me to Andrew…

~ ~ ~

“Wow, you made breakfast, Briana? It smells yummy! What’s the occasion?”

“I wanted to thank you for always being there for me. Please sit. I’ll serve you.”

Briana placed a plate of eggs and bacon on the coffee table in front of Tara. She added utensils and a strawberry smoothie, Tara’s favorite.

“You look as if you’re feeling better today,” Tara observed.

Briana smiled. “I am.”

She watched as Tara cleaned her plate and downed her smoothie.

“Thank you so much. That was delicious!”

“I’m so glad you enjoyed it.”

It didn’t take long before Tara’s words began to slur. She mumbled something about feeling sleepy and stretched out on the couch.

Briana recalled from her online research the night before that it would take about an hour for her friend’s heart to stop beating and her breathing to cease.

Forty-five minutes later, she checked on Tara. Her breathing was laboured, her heartbeat weak and irregular.

Briana felt ecstatic! She was about to be reunited with Andrew!

A notification beep from her laptop alerted Briana. She smiled at the now-familiar chat box.

…Kasdeya is typing…

“A bid of greater value has been accepted. Your wish will not be granted.”

The chat screen disappeared.