The Abyss Contract

 

A dramatic and cinematic book cover titled "THE ABYSS CONTRACT" by author Douye Soroh.

The Deal In The Void

What would you do if you had the choice to pick who should remain in the world and who shouldn’t? What would you do if the world was in the palm of your hand and you had the authority to erase an entire continent from the map? Would you be selfish? Would you be a tyrant, or would you be fair, guided by justice and equity?

Those were the questions asked to Ethan as he floated in the abyss. He had no idea if it was truly an abyss; all he could say was that the place was without form and void. All he could do was listen to the voice of the one who had taken him there. The voice said, "Your mind is a powerful tool that you can shape to your will. All you have to do is reach out." And he had done just that.

He had shaped the abyss into a comfortable place within his mind. He had been floating there, drinking in the rich quietness and the bliss of peace, power, and authority. He had been a victim of mistaken identity; he had been arrested, beaten, and sentenced to four years in prison. He had suffered, and he had contracted a kind of disease that turned his mind into a tool to be used by a being he couldn't quite pinpoint. All he knew was that this being promised him the power to choose who exists in the world and who does not. But first, he had been told to sign a contract—a contract to bind him, the abyss, and the being together. He didn't care what he was signing; all he cared about was getting justice.

Ethan was a good citizen who lived a very quiet life. He paid his taxes and volunteered for community organizations that take care of the underprivileged. He donated what little he could to charity and sometimes advocated for better living conditions for the poor. He wasn't well-known, and he was happy with what he could accomplish even without any backers. He enjoyed doing his part and was always happy to see the smiles on the children's faces.

He was going home late one night when he was accosted by the police. It turned out they were dirty cops who had been paid off by a man who felt Ethan was destroying his business and needed to be "dealt with" or gotten rid of.

He was framed. The cops had plenty of evidence and witnesses who spilled lies he never believed a human being was capable of. He was found guilty of drug possession with intent to distribute. As he was sentenced to four years, the judge said, "Good riddance to society."

He had wept, quickly finding out that in a court of law, sentiment will not save you.

He had been thrown into a cell with rough-looking inmates who saw him as "fresh meat"—an easy target to vent their frustrations on. He had endured so much pain, and the last beating landed him in the infirmary. That was when he felt his spirit leaving his body. He thought he had died until he found himself floating in an abyss—a vast nothingness, a place as black as the darkest corners of the supernatural. He was confused, wondering what he was doing there, when a voice sounded in his head. It was a voice he thought he’d never want to hear again; it was a voice full of authority that rattled his very being: "ETHAN!"

Ethan looked around but could see nothing. Suddenly, a bright light appeared in the blackness. He squinted, covering his eyes to keep from being blinded. "Who are you?"

"ETHAN, I HAVE SEEN YOUR SUFFERING. I HAVE SEEN THE WRONGS DONE TO A GOOD MAN LIKE YOU, AND I WANT TO MAKE A DEAL."

"Who are you?" Ethan asked again, wondering what sort of trick his mind was playing on him.

"THIS IS NO TRICK. I AM THE GOD OF JUSTICE. I HAVE SEEN YOUR GOODNESS AND I WANT YOU TO BE MY VESSEL. I WANT YOU TO BE MY PUNISHER, AND I WANT YOU TO DISPENSE JUSTICE."

"But how? I’m nobody. How can I carry such power?"

"I WILL GIVE YOU THE POWER TO CHOOSE WHO LIVES AND WHO DIES. I WILL GIVE YOU THE POWER TO RESHAPE THE WORLD OR TO ERASE A NATION."

"That is a lot to give a mortal," Ethan said. "I’m afraid I have to decline. That kind of power scares me."

"YOU HAVE NO CHOICE. YOU ARE AT DEATH’S DOOR, AND ONLY TAKING THIS POWER WILL SAVE YOU."

"Death’s door? How?"

"THE ONE WHO FRAMED YOU SENT MEN TO ASSAULT YOU, AND THEY DID A NUMBER ON YOU. YOUR ADVOCACY FOR A BETTER LIFE AND YOUR FIGHT AGAINST DRUG ABUSE REACHED THOSE WHO PROFIT FROM IT."

"And if I take your deal, what’s the catch?"

"YOU WILL BECOME FORMLESS IN TWO YEARS' TIME, ROAMING THE WORLD DISPENSING JUSTICE. YOU ARE ALREADY DEAD; I AM GIVING YOU TWO YEARS TO LIVE A LIFE, TO MARRY, AND TO HAVE CHILDREN WHO WILL BEAR YOUR NAME."

The First Test: The Gala of Lies

The abyss rippled like black water, and suddenly, Ethan wasn't floating anymore. He was standing in the shadows of a grand ballroom, invisible to the crowd. Crystal chandeliers hung from the ceiling, and the air smelled of expensive perfume and aged bourbon.

There, on a stage under a banner that read “Champion of the Law,” stood Judge Miller. He looked different—healthier, wearing a tuxedo that probably cost more than Ethan’s annual salary. He was laughing, shaking hands with the city’s elite.

“LOOK AT HIM,” the God’s voice boomed in Ethan’s mind, though the crowd heard nothing. “THE MAN WHO CALLED YOU A RIDDANCE TO SOCIETY IS BEING CELEBRATED AS ITS SAVIOR. HE KNOWS THE EVIDENCE WAS PLANTED. HE KNEW THE WITNESSES WERE PAID. YET, HE SLEEPS WELL AT NIGHT.”

The God held out a hand, and a shimmering, dark energy coiled around Ethan’s fingers. “I GIVE YOU A TASTE OF MY AUTHORITY. REACH OUT. TOUCH HIS HEART FROM ACROSS THIS ROOM. YOU CAN MAKE HIM FEEL THE COLD OF THE INFIRMARY FLOOR. YOU CAN MAKE HIM FEEL EVERY BLOW THE INMATES DEALT TO YOUR RIBS. YOU CAN STRIP AWAY HIS REPUTATION IN A SINGLE BREATH.”

Ethan looked at his hand. The power felt heavy, vibrating with a heat that demanded to be released. He looked at the Judge, who was currently raising a glass in a toast to "Integrity."

“PUNISH HIM, ETHAN. PROVE THAT YOU ARE NOT JUST A VICTIM, BUT A DISPENSER OF JUSTICE.”

Ethan’s heart hammered against his chest. This was the man who had stolen his life. One flick of his wrist and the debt would be paid. But as he looked at the Judge, he saw the man’s wife and children standing proudly beside him.

"If I do this," Ethan whispered, his voice trembling, "am I actually being fair? Or am I just as dirty as the cops who put me away?"

“JUSTICE IS NEVER CLEAN, MORTAL. IT IS NECESSARY. CHOOSE.”

Ethan gripped the dark energy, his knuckles white. The power felt like a living thing, an addictive heat pulsing through his veins. He looked at Judge Miller, who was now soaking up a standing ovation. This man hadn't just made a mistake; he had knowingly buried an innocent man to protect his own career.

"HE IS VULNERABLE, ETHAN. ONE THOUGHT, AND THE WORLD WILL SEE HIM FOR THE FILTH HE IS. STRIKE."

Ethan stepped forward from the shadows, his eyes locked on the Judge. He felt a surge of cold fury. He remembered the smell of the prison infirmary, the copper taste of blood in his mouth, and the sound of the cell door slamming shut—the sound of his life ending.

He raised his hand, pointing a finger at the Judge’s chest. The dark energy flared, ready to leap across the room and tear Miller’s soul apart. The Judge suddenly paused, a look of brief, unexplained terror crossing his face as if a cold wind had just walked over his grave.

But then, Ethan saw the Judge’s youngest daughter. She was no older than six, pulling on her father's tuxedo sleeve and looking up at him with pure, unearned pride.

Ethan’s hand shook. If he unleashed this power, he would destroy the Judge, but he would also destroy the world that little girl believed in. He would be creating a new cycle of pain, exactly like the one that had birthed him into this abyss.

"No," Ethan whispered.

"NO? YOU WOULD LET THIS INJUSTICE STAND?" the God roared, the ballroom floor seeming to tremble.

"I won't kill him for a toast," Ethan said, his voice growing firmer. He lowered his hand, the dark energy receding but not disappearing. "If I am your vessel of justice, then it has to be real justice—not just a shortcut to revenge. I want him to face what he did. I want the truth to come out in the light, not in a dark room where nobody sees the lesson."

He looked up into the infinite blackness of the God's presence.

"I'll take the deal. I'll take the two years. But I’m not going to be a murderer. I’m going to be the truth. I’ll make them confess. I’ll make them undo what they did. That is justice."

The ballroom began to dissolve, the crystal chandeliers turning into streaks of white light.

"VERY WELL, ETHAN. YOU SEEK THE HARDER PATH. YOU SEEK EQUITY OVER VENGEANCE. LET US SEE IF YOUR RESOLVE HOLDS WHEN THE BLOOD IS ON YOUR OWN HANDS."

Suddenly, the silence of the abyss was replaced by the harsh, rhythmic beeping of a heart monitor.

The Soul’s Contract

On the eve of their second anniversary—which was also the day Ethan would fulfill his contract—Sarah sat on the porch of their modest home. She watched the children play in the small garden. You could smell the scent of jasmine in the air, and the laughter of the children was a delight to the ears.

She reflected on how she had met Ethan, and a small chuckle escaped her lips. What a man, she thought. Honest to a fault and faithful. He gives me love and fulfillment. She could hear Leo giggling at something Maya had said. He pointed at her with mischief in his eyes. "Wanna be the first to cause trouble?" he asked Maya as they advanced on their mom, who was an expert in their antics.

"You guys are not going to catch me unaware this time," she said as she rounded on them. The children giggled hard when they saw the look of shock on her face.

Ethan was watching them from the window. He sighed. How can I leave this beautiful family full of love and laughter? How can I face my own family and tell them I will be going forever—and not even as a physical entity, but as a mist drifting about in the cosmos? A single tear fell from his eye. He wiped it off, but more kept coming as his hands shook. He watched his children and his heart did a double take. He watched how they rounded on their mom and started spraying her with the water hose. He could hear her laughter and how she made outrageous exclamations, threatening to vent her anger on their father.

"IT'S TIME, ETHAN," the voice boomed in his mind.

"How can I leave them? Look at them, they are happy. How can I leave them with sadness?"

"YOU SIGNED A CONTRACT IN THE ABYSS, AND IT BINDS YOUR SOUL. IT IS A CONTRACT OF THE SOUL AND THERE IS NOTHING YOU CAN DO BUT FULFILL IT."

"This is not fair. I still have a young life. Look at my children, they are still young. How can I leave them? They won't know the love of a father as they grow up."

"SAY YOUR WORDS OR THE CONTRACT WILL TAKE EFFECT AND YOU WILL NEVER HAVE THE TIME AGAIN," the voice said with sternness.

Ethan sighed as he walked out of the house toward Sarah and the kids. His steps were heavy, and he counted every step he took. He looked at the couch Sarah had first slept on when she visited him. He looked at the jacket on the rack behind the door that she had gifted him, playfully telling him it was "part of her heart" that he wore.

He walked on as his eyes fell on their wedding photo. He stopped, and his breathing came hard. A small wind nudged him on his back and a little voice said, "Be strong. You will still be with them in spirit."

He went to the porch where they were laughing. He could see Sarah’s damp hair from where the kids had had their way with her. He saw Maya sneaking behind her mother and he just stood there, crying and laughing. How can I watch over this from the cosmos and not be part of it? he thought as he intercepted Maya with a laugh. "Got you, sneaky!"

"Dad!" the little girl exclaimed with a frown. "I had Mom! You ruined it."

That word—ruined—really hit him hard. "I'm sorry, little angel."

He beckoned Leo and Sarah to join him and Maya. Sarah could see that he had been crying. "What is the matter, my love?" she asked him. Leo and Maya giggled when they heard "my love."

"I have very sad news, and it really is something I have no control over. I'm sorry for putting you in this position," he said as he ruffled Leo's hair and pinched Maya’s nose—a habit they both hated, but he loved because it made them feel like adults.

"You are scaring me, Ethan."

"My love, I have been hiding something from you. Before I start, you should know I have been living on borrowed time."

"That is nonsense. Don't say things that are impossible," she said.

"Please let me finish." He told her of his encounter with the cops and how he had been framed. He told her of how he had been at death’s door when the Gods had visited him and given him an offer he had grabbed. He told her of the binding of his soul as the bargaining chip, and now it was time to pay the price.

Sarah was shocked. Her Ethan, a walking dead body on borrowed time. "Is there no way?"

"I'm sorry. If there was a way, I would have grabbed it. The voice is in my head demanding I fulfill my part of the contract. There is nothing I can do."

Sarah was crying, and the children joined her. She went on her knees with hands clasped in prayer. She looked up at the sky and spoke. "Dear Mighty Being, if you can hear me, please listen to my plea. Ethan is my soul. He is the ground I walk on and he is the father of my children. You may have bound his soul, but today I plead—not on his behalf, but on that of my children and myself. Please, Mighty Being, I can never ask you to go back on your contract, but I can only ask that you extend it another two years. Please, give us this happiness we deserve."

The voice boomed in her mind. She felt the force and she fell. "THERE WILL BE NO EXTENSION. A CONTRACT BOUND WITH THE SOUL MUST BE FULFILLED. A LIFE GIVEN AND A SOUL TAKEN."

"Please!" she cried.

"NO. THE TIME IS NOW." She and her children watched as Ethan turned into mist, his essence drifting away toward the sky to start his guardianship of dispensing justice. And while he did his part, he was never happy again. He watched from the cosmos as his children grew up. He watched as Sarah cried and called his name, and all he could do was look at the Mighty Being who would boom: "A SOUL CONTRACT IS FINAL."