[ WP ] '' Death extends his hand , smiling , “ Deal ? ” ''

The smell of blood and shit infested his nostrils. Trying to lift his head above the stench caused him excruciating pain, so he lay still and tried not to retch. As he lay in the mud, enveloped in darkness, listening to the shells whistling overhead he still found himself – despite the agony he felt to his very core – hoping that none of them would land on his little patch of no-mans-land. He couldn ’ t feel his legs, his right arm was a constant stabbing pain and he was too afraid of what he might find to look down at his guts. Glancing left and right, he saw dead men everywhere, brave men who had climbed over the top without a moment ’ s hesitation. For some reason, he found this momentarily funny; he was only a messenger, but he had been sent over anyway - due to the shortage of men. He hadn ’ t handled a bayonet since training, but that made no difference, the machine gun fire cut them all down so quickly that his inferiority to his comrades left him at no disadvantage. 
 
 
 Suddenly, a dark figure was standing over him. Looking up, he expected to see the face of one of the enemy, but instead saw nothing. 
 
 “ It is time ” the figure rasped. 
 
 “ Time for what? ” 
 
 “ Time for you to come with me, time for you to die ” 
 
 “ I ’ m not ready, I don ’ t want to die. ” he realised with a sinking horror what this figure must be. 
 
 “ No-one wants to die, but everyone must. ” 
 
 “ I ’ ll give you anything you want, anything at all, please. ” 
 
 “ What makes you think you can give me what I want? ” 
 
 “ Anything at all, name it and I will find a way to give it to you, I swear. ” 
 
 “ There is only one thing that you can bargain with, and it is too much to ask of any one man. ” The figure was almost grinning. 
 
 “ I swear to you, just let me live and I will give you anything ” 
 
 “ There is only one currency that I deal in, and that is souls. ” 
 
 “ How many souls will it take to let me go? ” 
 
 “ How many souls do you think your life is worth? 
 
 Feeling the blood begin to seep into his lungs, he knew he didn ’ t have much time. “ How many do you want? Anything at all, I promise you ” 
 
 The figure paused. No-one had ever given him free reign to name his price, so he figured he had better make it worth his while. “ Six million. Six million souls in exchange for sparing yours now. ” 
 
 “ Of course, anything, I ’ ll find a way, I swear. ” 
 
 Death extended his hand, smiling “ Deal? ” 
 
 Adolf reached up, coughing the first spots of blood. “ Deal. ” he replied as he gripped Death ’ s hand. 

