My name is Michael. I’m 42 years old, and for as long as I can remember, life has been a relentless grind — a cycle of short-lived factory jobs, unpaid bills, and nights haunted by the helplessness I felt watching my son, Daniel, slowly slipping away from me. Last year, that helplessness turned into pure terror.
Daniel was only six then. His laughter once filled our small apartment, a bright spark in the darkness of my world. But when he fell sick, everything changed. A mysterious illness took hold, and no matter how much I tried, I couldn’t afford the treatment he needed. The doctors said his condition was critical, and I was desperate. I was told there was no hope, no cure within reach of my meager wages.
Desperation led me down a dark path I never imagined I would tread. One night, I scoured the internet, desperate for a miracle. I read stories, legends, whispers of deals with demons that could grant wishes, cure diseases, or even resurrect the dead. Skeptical but desperate, I stumbled upon a site that promised to connect me with something called “Ashley,” a demon who could grant my deepest desires. I hesitated, my pulse pounding, but the fear of losing Daniel pushed me to click “Connect.”
That’s when Ashley appeared.
He was unlike anything I expected. A shadowy figure materialized before me, cloaked in swirling darkness that seemed to breathe and pulse. His eyes were glowing embers, burning with a sinister light. His face was gaunt, with hollow cheeks and sharp, jagged teeth that gleamed as he smiled. His form was twisted and grotesque — a skeletal figure with elongated limbs, skin stretched tight and pale, almost translucent, revealing veins that pulsed with unnatural life. His presence was suffocating, a suffocating heat that made the air shimmer with malevolence.
Ashley’s voice was like the scraping of metal against bone, cold and echoing. “Michael,” he rasped. “I hear your plea. You seek to save your son, yes?”
I nodded, trembling. “Yes. Please. I’ll do anything.”
He studied me with eyes that burned with a terrible hunger. “To save Daniel, I require a small token from someone you once loved. Her soul must belong to me.”
My stomach clenched. “Who do you mean?”
Ashley’s lips curled into a twisted smile. “Your ex-wife. Emily. Bring me a lock of her hair, and I will save your son’s life. No strings attached. The deal is sealed when I have her hair.”
I didn’t hesitate. I knew I was risking everything — my soul, my morality, my life — but Daniel’s life was more precious than anything. I agreed.
The next day, I approached Emily, my ex-wife. She was hesitant but agreed to let me talk. I told her I needed to discuss Daniel’s health. We sat in her dimly lit apartment, shadows dancing on the walls, and I managed to sneak a small lock of her hair while she was distracted.
That night, I took the hair to Ashley’s shadowy lair. The demon’s eyes glowed brighter as I handed over the cursed lock. The air grew thick with malevolence, and I felt the cold touch of death curling around my heart.
The deal was done.
But Ashley’s true nature was far worse than I could have imagined.
---
**The True Face of Ashley**
Ashley was no ordinary demon. He was a creature born from nightmares, a dark amalgamation of flesh and shadow, a being that thrived on suffering and despair. His form was constantly shifting, a swirling mass of darkness that flickered and contorted like a living shadow. Sometimes he appeared as a tall, skeletal figure, his bones protruding through his thin, rotting skin, eyes burning with a fiery red glow. Other times, he was a mass of writhing tendrils, each limb ending in claws that shimmered like obsidian knives.
His face was the worst. When he revealed it fully, it was a grotesque mask of twisted flesh and bone. His mouth was a jagged maw filled with sharp, uneven teeth, stained dark with blood. His eyes, glowing embers, seemed to see into your soul, peeling back layers of humanity to reveal the darkness beneath. His skin was mottled, covered in boils and lesions that oozed a dark, tar-like substance. He exuded an aura of decay and death, a smell of rot and sulfur that clung to the air.
Ashley’s primary hunger was for souls — pure, innocent, or corrupted — it didn’t matter. He thrived on their agony, their despair, their surrender. He was a predator, and humans were his prey.
---
**The Night of the Deal**
After sealing the pact, I thought I had bought Daniel’s salvation. But I was wrong. Ashley’s true intentions were far more gruesome than I could have imagined.
That night, as I slept, a dark, suffocating presence invaded my dreams. I woke up sweating, my heart pounding like a drum. The air in my apartment was thick and cold, though it was summer outside. And then I saw her.
Emily was there, standing at the foot of my bed. Her face was twisted in agony, her eyes wide with terror. She looked like herself, but her skin was pallid, her hair hanging in greasy strands. Her lips moved, but no sound came out. She was trying to scream, but her voice was muffled and garbled.
Suddenly, her form began to distort, her flesh melting away like wax. Her bones protruded, her eyes black pits of despair. She tried to run, but her body was unsteady, jerking unnaturally. Then, a shadow erupted from her chest — a dark, swirling mass like a whirlpool of darkness that sucked her in, tearing her apart from the inside out.
I watched helplessly as her soul was pulled from her body, a luminous, shimmering light leaving her mouth, her eyes, her very essence. It was like watching a star being devoured by a black hole. Her scream was deafening, a shrill cry that pierced my soul.
But Emily was only the beginning.
Ashley’s true form then revealed itself fully, a monstrous entity that towered over me. Its eyes burned with a terrible hunger, and its mouth stretched into a grotesque smile. It reached out with clawed, elongated fingers, eager to claim what remained of Emily’s soul.
---
**The Demonic Hunt for Her Soul**
Ashley’s claws tore into Emily’s chest, raking through flesh and bone, ripping her apart with savage cruelty. Blood sprayed across the room, pooling on the floor, but that was nothing compared to what came next.
He bent down, his maw open wide, revealing rows of jagged teeth dripping with a dark, viscous substance. His tongue—a slick, forked appendage—slithered out and licked the air hungrily.
With a sickening crack, Ashley’s mouth latched onto Emily’s neck, tearing into her with razor-sharp teeth. Her scream was cut short as her head was yanked back, her throat torn open, blood gushing out like a crimson river. The demon’s maw gorged on her, ripping her apart piece by piece, consuming her screams, her pain, her very essence.
As her body was torn to shreds, her soul — a brilliant, shimmering light — was finally released, hovering helplessly in the suffocating darkness. Ashley’s tongue flicked out again, licking up the luminous trail, and then he swallowed it whole.
The soul was gone. Emily was dead, her body a mangled wreck. The demon’s hunger satisfied, he disappeared into the shadows, leaving me trembling in the silent darkness, haunted by the screams I couldn’t save her from.
---
**The Horror Continues**
Days later, I learned Emily’s body was found in her apartment — torn apart, with no signs of her soul. The police called it a gruesome murder, but I knew the truth. Ashley had taken her soul, just as he had promised.
Daniel’s health continued to decline, and when I tried to intervene, I saw the demon’s eyes in my mind, watching, waiting. Ashley had made his move — he had my wife’s soul, and now he wanted Daniel’s.
And I knew, with chilling certainty, that I had sealed a terrible bargain.
Because demons don’t just take souls for fun. They take them to feed their insatiable hunger. And once they have your soul, they never let go.
---
**Epilogue: The Price of Despair**
I am now a broken man, haunted by the images of my wife’s gruesome death, the demon’s monstrous face, and the knowledge that Daniel’s fate hangs in the balance. Ashley still lurks in the shadows of my mind, waiting for his next meal.
If you ever come across a deal that seems too good to be true, remember my story. Demons don’t grant wishes—they take your soul, and they do so with gruesome, relentless cruelty.
And once they have it, there’s no redemption, only eternal suffering.
Beware the devil’s bargain.
**The End.**