The Devil's Gift

By: Charlotte King

As I walked down the main street in the town of Vicksburg. I saw an old woman selling paint. Since I was an artist I decided to try different kind of paint because the paint I was already using has not been helping me paint very well and I'm lower than usual on money this year. "Good morning, madam." I said to the old woman. "Good morning, would you like to buy my homemade paint?" she asked so kindly. "Yes, I would love to... I just hope that this would help me out with my paintings. So far the other paint has not been working," I said. I know I said too much, but it's a habit!

"Well then," she said leading to the back room, "I have something very rare that people say It's from the devil himself and some believe that too!" "Why do they say that?" I asked curiously. "Because only the baddest of the bad can make such as dark as this," she holes the paint to my face; "also the devil's paint can work with the artist's mind. He makes the painting a kind of evil beauty." "Wow, how much?" I asked. "Hee, hee! Fifty dollars!" She said excited to hear that she has a customer. "I'll take it!" I said impatient to try my new paint out. As I started to the door, the old woman warned me, "be careful of what you paint!" "What a weird lady." I said under my breath.

When I got home, I got out my new paint and headed for the back room, where I paint paintings. My house is quite small. There are five rooms: the living room, the kitchen, the bathroom, the bedroom, and the art room, where I spend most of my time. I set the paint down and fix the canvas for painting. I grab my old paint and toss it into the trash. I open the new paint and looked inside. A weird wind blew by every time I would open a paint bottle. It was like a spirit passes through you, well that is what people say when they are in a haunted house. When I opened the last paint bottle, a weird odor of paint, a weird odor came out. It smelled like a rotten egg or a dead body. It didn't bother me that much. I picked up one of my paintbrushes and started for the paint. Then all of a sudden there was a knock on the door. "hmmmmm! I was expecting anyone...Who is it?" Nobody answered! I walked to the door and opened it. "May I help you?" It was the old woman that sold me the weird paint. "Haw, have you started painting yet?" I could tell that this was important and that she was running. "No, why?" "I forgot to give you this paintbrush! It's the only paintbrush that you can use for the paintings!" She looked strange because her clothing was a different dress. Her old dress was black, not it was pink. She must have lived near because it had only been ten minutes since I got home.

She handed me the paintbrush. It had a carving in it so I looked closer. It was a dragon going all around the brush and had Japanese writings on it. When I looked, I asked "why is this the only brush I can use?" She was gone. I stepped out and looked down the hallway. She was not there. "Hmmmm she's gone. Weird!" I walked back into the art room. I sat down in my chair and put the weird paintbrush in the darkest of the dark black that I ever saw in my entire life. I put it on the canvas and started painting. But what was weird was I don't know what I was painting.

An hour later, I could tell a little bit. It looked like a very good, fine looking man. He had horns and I think he was wearing a red, three-piece suit. He had black hair, a black goatee, and red eyes. He was so fine that I fell head over heels for him. I wish he were a live. I stopped for a thirty-second break. But for some reason I started back. I kept going and going. I couldn't stop until the painting was done.

Then the painting was done. That was about an hour later. It was two o'clock. "Man, my arm hurts". I said rubbing my arm as I headed for the shower. Then all of a sudden I heard a boom sound. I looked back and saw that my painting had fallen over. I walked over very fast to pick it up before the picture was messed up. I picked it up and the whole picture was gone. The canvas was white as snow. "Noooooo!" I screamed as hard as I could until I couldn't scream anymore. I cried as long as three hours until red tears came down. I was on the floor by now with blood every where. Lots of blood came from my mouth and my eyes that I thought I was going to die.

Then the TV came on, the phone rang, the radio played, and then everything with a battery came on. Then there was quiet. I looked down at my hands and say that the blood was gone. I looked back up and room was different. There was red, orange, and black everywhere. "Where am I?" I said slowly getting up. "You are in my home!" A man's voice answered. I turned and there he was the man I painted. Everything exactly the same as the paining. "But you are the man I painted! Who... are you?" I demanded. "My name is Toby. I am the painting you talk about; this is your painting here." Toby said nicely that I knew he was kind. I looked around and there was a picture, and what looked like my art room. "But how did I get here?" I asked. "Is it possible and can I get out?" "No you can't get out and it is possible. You got in there by using the devil's paint and paint brush. Didn't he warn you?" He asked as though I saw the devil. "What do you mean? I haven't met the devil and hope not to!" "The devil doesn't show himself in real form." He said. During all this time I noticed that he had not moved at all and he kept looking straight ahead to the art room. "It must have been the old woman, who sold the painting to me". "Old woman?" He asked as he for the first time looked at me. "Yes! She sold it to me". "Hmmm the devil never looked like a woman before. It must be him though. Oh you don't mind if I move do you?" "Why do you ask?" "Well, It's your picture am I right?" I nodded. "So I need your permission." "Okay, you may". I said. He moved towards me about five inches and then sat down. "Why can't I leave?" I asked. "Because you are the devil's slave until he decides what to do with you." "What about you?" "I'm not really real. The old lady walks in my art room and looks in the painting. "Ahhh, here's the devil now" I look and say the old lady walk in and she walks over to the painting of me and Toby. "Well well well. Look what I caught!" The old woman's voice has changed and she turned into a man with everything. That is clothing, hair, and skin are all red. He must be the devil. I thought "What do you want with me?" I screamed. "Well I'm not quite so sure yet. Ahhh I know I'm going to sell you!" "But why? I mean I'm no good to you!" I asked with hoping that he would let me go. "I'm the devil, right? And devils do bad and the baddest of the bad things to do to someone is to take their soul right?" I nodded. "Well I'm going to sell you to a man who's wife left him so he looking for a person to love. I'm going to sell you to him for his soul." After he said that he put a black bag over the painting of Toby and me.

"But can't I ask for help to this man? And can't I run away when I'm out of the painting?" I said looking at Toby. "Only the devil can hear you when you're in the picture. And whatever leaves the canvas with the devil's paint becomes a demon and only the person that wanted it can see it!" "Oh my, that's really bad! And when I leave the picture, what will happen?" I demanded to know as I slammed my foot to the ground like a five-year-old awaiting a cookie. "Well," he said looking at my foot on the ground, then looked at me, " When you leave you would be, so called, woman and one night when he's asleep you will take his soul and then return t the painting!" "That is sad!" I said worried. After an hour, well that's what it felt like, the bag was taken off and I could see a young man. I couldn't move at all, and Toby was moving into the darkest part of the painting and then disappeared. I could only see this because there was a mirror in front of me and I could see him laughing, but I couldn't hear him; I couldn't hear anything.

I could see the young man signing the contract and he picked me up and he walked about an hour to, I guess his place, where he sat me down on the couch. Then he started to say something, but I couldn't hear anything still. After he finished I heard him and he said, "Speak my love, please speak!" So I tried to speak and I said, "Please help me!" But to him I said get me out of here my love. And so he started to say, what sounded like a spell, "Hell to earth, let my true love go from the horrible place that she's in!" Then he put a black blanket over the painting and all of a sudden I was on a couch with a reddish colored smoke all around. Then the blanket came off. "Ahhh, my sweetheart is back, I missed you honey," he said while coming closer for a kiss.

After he kissed me I stood up and walked over to a mirror to see what I looked like. I looked and saw a beautiful young woman. I asked, "What's my name?" He looked at me like I'd said I never thought I looked so beautiful. "Well you always were beautiful to me, Danielle." Well at least I learned my name, I thought.

That night as he slept I went into the bathroom and I looked into the mirror. I saw some words and I read them. Without any control, my body walked to his side, where he laid in the bed, and said the words I had just read. I'm not sure what the words were because they were all mixed up together. Then I picked up a knife, that had the same carving on it like the paintbrush had, off the table next to the bed. I took the knife and started for the young man. I held it to his chest and cut him all the way to his "belly button." Then a greenish, spirit looking, ghost thingy came out, and at that moment I knew he was dead.

After I did that I walked to the couch, where I came out of the painting, and sat down. I picked up the black blanket, to cover me, and said, "Take me to the horrible place I came from, earth to hell!" Then I was in the picture again, and Toby was there, as well. "Toby, where did you go?" I asked wondering where he was. "I can't tell you that. How did things go," he replied. "It went badly, I hated it! To kill a young man when he hasn't even started life?!" I said as I walked toward Toby "What's going to happen to me now?" "Well, he will sell the picture, that is, the picture you are in. Over and over, to get the souls of young and old, cute or handsome, men or woman!" "That can't be!" I screamed. "So you're saying I'm his slave forever?!" I get on my hands and knees to cry, and I say "I will call this painting..." I look up and scream, "The Devil's Gift!"