Selling Your Soul

short stories collection - a compilation of my short stories.


It was a pristine autumn evening, the street was wet from the recent rain and the trees had become a spectacular array of browns, reds, and yellows. The streetlights cast a surreal glow on the scene. Kil walked down the street, her dress billowing in the wind, her gait slightly off. She was the height of an average man, tall and slender, with billowing red hair.

Arrogance can get the better of someone. A look at the people who are so full of themselves they fail to see the pain left in their wake.

It was a pristine autumn evening, the street was wet from the recent rain and the trees had become a spectacular array of browns, reds, and yellows. The streetlights cast a surreal glow on the scene. Kil walked down the street, her dress billowing in the wind, her gait slightly off. She was the height of an average man, tall and slender, with billowing red hair. Her bright red lips flared like her dress, her gloves those of someone getting ready for the kill. She turned the corner, out in front laid row after row of office buildings, each housing the hopes and aspirations of young entrepreneurs. Kil reached into her bright blue purse, pulled out her phone and dialed Sorr.

“Will you be ready by the time I get there?”

“Yes, I’ve been working all day on this.”

“I’ll extend a bit of pity. I’ll be right over so get ready.”

“Yes madame.”

“Don’t call me that.”

She strutted down the lane, looking into the buildings to see if there was anyone worth trying to snag. She then thought back to Sorr, he’d invested an awful lot of time into trying to make her happy, would it be right to throw it all away so easily? He was in his late 20s, clean cut and bald. His signature getup was a blue track top and black sweats. He had an obsession with sports, both watching and playing, but that is a whole different issue, she thought to herself. She opened the glass door and stepped into a spacious interior. Taking off her coat and giving it to the door man, she glided over to the elevator, level 7 it was to be. In the elevator she struck a conversation with man standing next to her.

“So, ever banged something with soft wood? Some people say hard wood is better.”

“What? In reference to…”

“I like soft wood better; you can do more with it.”

The elevator opened up, level 5. The man walked out and looked back over his shoulder as the elevator door closed. Didn’t let him get my name, she thought, oh well. Level 7 was reached and she hustled out and to the room of Sorr. She opened the door.

“Is it here? Is it done? Hurry!”

“Kil, seriously, I’m having a horrible day. Aren’t we in a relationship, aren’t you supposed care?”

“I do, I think you just can’t differentiate my business attitude from my personal attitude.”

“But can’t you for a…”

“I’m on the clock, the papers?”

“Here. Hey, I was wondering, do you…?”

“I’m on the clock, no time for small chat.”

“Okay, I’ll talk with you about it later.”

“Yep, we’ll chat.”

Kil walked off, looking to her left as she walked. She spotted another potential mate, another chance to move up and find a better product than the one she was using. Sorr looked over as Kil strode over to another man and started a light conversation with him. His blood boiled, but I thought she…

“So, have you been working here awhile? Couldn’t have missed a handsome face such as yours for so long.”

“Haha, no, I’ve been here for a bit, recently transferred to this department though.”

“Interesting, were you in market research before or…?”

“Vision planning.”

“Heard interesting things about that department, sounds like an easy job, just predicting and projecting what will happen a couple years down the line.”

“You would think.”

“Well, I have to go, my significant is probably looking.”

“We will have to chat another time.”

“Yes indeed.”

She got to the elevator, level 18 was the destination. Oh, I forgot to give out my name again. The elevator doors opened and she went down the rows of cubicles then turned left and walked toward the door with ‘Jik Hatura’ written on it. She looked to the left and right, then slowly opened the door.

‘”Jik? Jik you there?”

“Yes, please come in. I have some questions about Sorr that need to be…answered.”

“I can help you with that but…”

“You want compensation, yes?”

“You must understand.”

“Oh yes, I’ve dealt with many whores like…”

“I’m not a whore!”

“A concubine then?”

“That’s not even accurate.”

“Small talk, now I was saying. Sorr has become unproductive and I need to know, should I let him go?”

“What would be the…”

“Twenty gold-pounds?”

“My honest opinion? He is a hard worker, but that does not mean he is productive. Recently my relationship with him has gone stale, so I think he is having an emotional breakdown of some variety.”

“You think? You talk to him about his problems?”

“No, I have better things to do. Look at all the potential in the building, why would I waste it with someone who looks to have reached the relationship limit.”

“Stone cold, bitch, stone cold.”

“Hey, hey, you would do the same, don’t make me look…”

“So I should fire him?”

“Don’t interrupt me…I would suggest so, but do whatever you want.”

“Not sure if this was worth 20 g-p.”

“I have a recording device on me.”

“Well then, I’ll make the transfer tomorrow by noon.”

“Then I guess our business here is done.”

Kil strode out and into the elevator again. Level 0 it was to be. Time to leave. As the elevator descended, it stopped at Level 7. Sorr walked in and the doors closed. Shit, great timing, she thought.

“Kil, why do you do this to me? You think I don’t love you anymore?”

“So, let me put it this way, your too 1 dimensional for me, I’ve figured you out, I’m on to whiter slopes.”

“Oh, so if I opened up a little more…”

“You already whine too much.”

“So then what? I’m begging you, you’re the glue that holds me together, I, I…”

“Quite your whining, I won’t disengage myself that quickly.”

“Ding, ding, Floor One”.

“Well, I guess this is where I get off.”


As Sorr left, he turned around and held the elevator door open.

“Before I go, why?”

“So, you see, market forces and the profit-motive compel me to. The time I invested in you is a sunk cost, but your opportunity cost, well, its too high and not worth the input anymore.”

“Is everything to you an economic model to be worked out?”

“Haha, no, but it comes in handy, you must admit.”

Sorr’s face betrayed him and Kil saw the angst written across it. He let his hand go of the elevator door and turned to leave.

“I suppose the opportunity cost of your soul isn’t zero then.”

“The opportunity cost of nothing is zero to me; I can always put something to other uses.”

“I bet you can.”

The door closed and Kil slumped against the wall. He thinks he’s figured me out! Haha.

“Ding, ding, Floor Zero”.

Kil walked out of the elevator into the underground parking and checked to make sure everything in her purse was in order. As she looked up something cold touched her neck.

“You’ve hurt a lot of people bitch. Overheard your conversation a floor up. Thought you could get something for free? Come on, you know nothing in life is free.”

“I, what, who…the papers?”

“Haha, you’ve done way more than that bitch. You know, about the whole, opportunity cost thing. Not too keen on economics, that body of yours has many uses, various ‘alternate’ states, shall we say. Does that mean there are ‘opportunities’ I would forgo by killing you?”

“Yes, many opportunities, please, you must realize the cost of killing me is quite high. There are various alternatives, pick something but…”

“You know, you’re one sick bitch. You are implying I should rape you? Fuck that, the best option is to kill you.”


There was screaming, then the sound of footsteps in the night.

bahanonu [at]

other entires to explore:

in a world too bright
23 november 2008 | short story

The sun scorched the skin off of my back; below me was an endless throng of citizens, all about to die. How morbid, eh? Haha, well this[...] is my tale, so I?ll start it however I please. If you are reading this, it means you?ve found my journal, flipped through any of the other pages yet?

Assassin? Schizophrenic? Or just a storyteller? This short story focuses on all three aspects of a character obsessed with himself. Set in a futuristic world, we get a glimpse of his life...and his end.

justifying hyphens
21 october 2012 | website

Justified text is awesome. Clean lines align well with other elements and it doesn't produce a crazy jagged edge. But without hyphens, prob[...]lems quickly arise. Some lines have super large spaces between words and the end look is quite ugly. There are several solutions: css, server-side, and javascript.

expanding markets and selling sex
07 january 2012 | essay

Sex sells. That simple statement has been used throughout the ages to justify lewd advertisements and other forms of communication, wh[...]ether they are through pictures, videos or other mediums. But while other industries, from cigarette companies to Hollywood, use it passingly to entice people into considering a product they otherwise would not, there is an industry and culture which bases its existence upon this simple fact. That industry is pornography.

A provocative essay I wrote in high school, and touched up for presentation here, that take a look at the porn industry: what makes it tick, how it has innovated and the people involved.

Obama 2012 Poster Alt
23 June 2012 | designs

Supporting Obama, this poster tries to focus on the positive rather th[...]an the negative. I hope Obama will campaign in this style

©2006-2017 | biafra ahanonu | updated 12 december 2017
biafra ahanonu