Excellent Samuel recalls making a deal with the devil The Bounty Hunter : Azazel's Deal by lancellot

The hungry hounds made quick work of the runaway slave. Samuel hadn’t known the man personally, but through the vine he knew of him. The dead man had not been a slave long. Tell was, he was one of the last ‘new’ slaves to be sent over before the law changed and ended the trade. Samuel had always thought ‘slave trade’ was a confusing name. Blacks came over but no blacks or whites were traded in exchange.  What were slaves traded for? Much of the slave was eaten, only a few scraps of bloody clothes and the larger bones were left.  He wouldn’t need a shovel to bury that. Probably easier to just toss the remains into the river.  “Rest in peace my brother. May God have mercy on your soul,” Samuel lamented, as he kicked a femur into the river. “God has no claim,  in mans' evil game.”   The Hunter spun around at the sound; his hand instinctively went down to his stone knife, which was not there. Damn! He went into a crouch and readied his fist. Clever eyes searched the shadows for the man who spoke. The voice sounded dry and scratchy, not like the smooth southern accent of white men Samuel had come to know. Samuel had been trained since birth to react in a submissive way at the mere sight or sound of a white man, but somehow he knew without a doubt the voice he heard was not white. He wasn’t sure what it was, but, in the woods at night, with a dead man’s bones and hungry hounds it couldn’t be good. Samuel suddenly noticed what he was not hearing. “The dogs! Where are the hounds?” Panic gripped his heart, voice or no voice, if something happened to the master’s prized hounds, while in his care, he might as well hang himself. “You need not fear my friend. The hounds, home I did send.”   The Voice sounded closer than before and it seemed to be all around him. “What do you want? I ain’t got nothing.” Samuel tried not to sound terrified. “What you are is what I seek.  One created to be strong, not weak.”   Samuel understood what he heard, but was confused by the way the voice spoke. “Why do you talk in that sing song way?” “To speak directly with man is forbidden. In this poor poetic way my true voice is hidden.  Free you from your slave bonds I can. But you must follow my plan.”   Samuel knew what he was speaking with. How that was possible, he didn’t concern himself with. He also understood that the devil had no friends and did no favors. “I do not wish to sell my soul to the devil.” Samuel closed his eyes. “Our Father, which art in heaven, Hallowed be thy Name. Thy Kingdom come. Thy will be done in earth, as it is in heaven. Give us this day our daily bread. And forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive them that trespass against us. And lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil.” Laughter erupted from the shadows breaking Samuel’s concentration. “Your faith in the Father is your sin. He has forsaken you and your kin. As you pray to Him those closest to you will be lost. Then a deal with me you will make, with a high cost.”   It took a few minutes of silence before Samuel realized the entity was gone. He pondered the demon’s last words, unsure of what they meant. He began to walk away when he stumped his toe on the dead slave’s jaw bone. “Sorry my brother, it seems that you fell to a greater evil than the one I spoke with. Go with God, and know that your master can no longer get new slaves from our old home. That way is lost to him and...” In that instant Samuel froze.  The slave master, Clemons, could not get new slaves from Africa, and Samuel was too old to be broken in again.  Why would the master show me off? ‘Those closest to you will be lost,’ the voice had said. “Oh no!” Samuel took off at a brake neck speed. Branches, limbs and barbs snagged at his skin and tugged at his clothes.  The woods seemed to reach out at him, taking pieces of cloth and pints of blood, in payment for disturbance of its peace. Even before he reached the Plantation he knew he was too late. His master had not been showing off Samuel’s hunting skills, he had been displaying the breeding plan of his father. Samuel was a great achievement but he was not the last in his line. That honor belonged to his baby son, Joseph. Bursting into the slave quarters he shared with his mate Sara and their infant, Samuel let out a primal scream at the nothingness he found. He collapsed to his knees and pounded at the dirt floor, cursing himself for the fool he was in not seeing the clear signs. His young master was a fool, who racked up huge gambling debts. The plantation was failing. The young man was in over his head and he had missed it all. “Help me!” he screamed in the dark. “I’ll do it. I’ll give myself to you. Just save them. Please save them. Please!” Slowly the cabin grew darker; coldness surrounded Samuel on the floor. Out of the shadows a man unlike any he had seen before emerged. His skin was blood red, his eyes sky blue. He had a long red spear tipped tail that seemed to dance to an unheard melody. He was dressed in all black clothing unlike any Samuel had ever seen. Though he appeared no larger than a man and leaned heavily on a wooden cane, he radiated power and strength unmatched by any human. “Can you get them back? Will you save my family?” Samuel was still on knees and made no attempt to rise as he pleaded for his loved ones. “I will keep your family safe from the hands of man. In exchange, you will hunt for me throughout the land. Your soul, you will keep, for I need your mind to be free. Two hundred years of willful service to me is my only fee.”   Desperation and confusion battled within Samuel’s mind. He was no good at ciphering but knew he would dead long before even twenty years could pass.   “Two hundred years? We will all be dead and buried long before then.” Anger had crept into his voice as the idea of the demon playing games with him grew.   “Your time on this world I will extend. As for your family their lives will not end. Safely with me in peace and harmony they will stay. But cross me Hunter and for your sins they will pay.”   Samuel lowered his head to the demon’s feet and pledged himself into the service of evil.   Author Notes Dream sequences are pretty nice for telling a little backstory. It allows the author to inform the reader without changing the current course of the main story.

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