(this turned out to be set in the 20s because i’ve been so wrapped up in an incoming history test so i took inspiration from that 😭 i also added something similar to a crossroads demon from supernatural, so enjoy ig!)

Cindy, Susan, and Gordon are my absolute top priority. Always has been. Even when my husband, William, left us for the war a few years back, leaving us nothing but a couple of antique furniture he said to sell.

He always knew how to keep care of us, how to save money, how to spend it, but now we don’t even have him during what city folk call "The Great Depression". Our only source of income is the antiques he left behind, which I was able to start an antique shop from. The value of the antiques became so low, though, that I was only getting around a nickel per day. It was a ridiculous way to live, but everyone lived in desperate times now. I didn’t want this for my children. They deserve better.

Not only was my income getting dangerously low, but the shop itself started corroding. Slowly falling apart in every passing second. The paint peeling, pipes bursting, lights flickering, shelves falling, causing every single antique around or on top to break. I’m a person who always has a plan ahead, but I seriously had no clue how to recover from this.

Until he showed up.

At first I didn’t trust him, but after he mentioned his offer, a new building and guaranteed visitors, I couldn’t say no. All it cost me, he said, was my soul, whatever that means. But desperate times call for insanely suspicious desperate measures, I guess.

I proceeded with the offer and almost immediately I noticed the building slowly getting fixed, being repainted, shelves fixing themselves, even the lights had a nice new warm tone to them. The man worked true, breathtaking, magic. It was such a relief to see all of this, but what really took my breath away was the immediate cluster of people walking through the doors. How are all these people suddenly interested in my antiques? I didn’t bother asking, I was too busy enjoying myself in making sales. I turn to say thank you to the mysterious man but he already turned toward the doors. As he looked behind him to admire his work, though, I noticed, for a split second, his eyes turned black. I thought I was just imagining it, as I was still shook from the immediate change in the environment. But in a couple days time I realize that was not the case.

Yes, my antique shop has completly restored in its health, but my health was declining rapidly. At first it was a small fever, turned to coughing blood, and an inability to breathe properly. At some point along the way I slowly lost my vision too. I could barely get out of bed from how weak I was. I finally know what the mysterious man meant by my soul. He meant my existence itself. And now, i’m not worried about me personally, but about my children. I made the deal for them to live a long, healthy, life, but now they won’t have any parent to look out for them. They can run the shop, but who knows how long it’s going to take for the shop to break down again? Surely the mysterious man won’t keep his magic up for long after i’ve gone.

As i’m writing this now i’m realizing that i’ve made a grave mistake, but it’s too late now. Cindy, Susan, and Gordon, my babies, if your reading this, i’m so sorry. I wish this didn’t turn out the way it did.