Soul Survivor: Fantasy

The jar slipped through her fingers and crashed against the ground. Valy looked up and into the eyes of the one man who she would have sworn she'd never see again. He regarded her with cold, level eyes. "You!" she gasped. He inclined his head slightly, but did not answer her. She whirled around and stared at her calendar it had been a month since she had seen him last, and she'd hardly expected to ever see him again. She hadn't even been really sure he existed. He'd appeared like a wraith in her bedchamber one night when she was sitting up late, still coughing blood onto spotted handkerchiefs. He had offered her a chance at a life of sorts. Better than what she had. Longer than what she had. Far longer. And a terrible price to pay at the end of it: her soul. She had accepted without a second thought. He had produced a contract, she had signed in blood, and for the first time, her malady had been useful--there had been no need for her to open a vein to provide the ink for her signature).


Inspiration: Trying to experiment with starting in the middle of a story.
Story Potential: Medium-high.
Finished Length: Short story.
Notes: No, her visitor is NOT a vampire, or a demon, or a djinn, or...well, at least, I don't think he is. He's just another guy who traded his soul away. and now either a) it's come time for it to be collected, or b) he's discovered something even worse than losing his soul is involved. For some reason, she can help him. So he's come a-calling.