The Refund
After the séance ended and the others had departed, Ed asked Madame Glory for a refund.
“I don’t give refunds,” she said. “If the spirits said something you didn’t like, that’s not my problem. I don’t control them, they control me. However, sometimes they get out of hand. Tell you want I’ll do. I’ll let you attend my next séance at no charge.”
“When’s your next séance?”
“Next full moon.”
“That’s a month away!” Ed hollered. “I can’t wait that long. Not after what you said.”
“What did I say?”
“Don’t you remember?”
“I never remember what the spirits channel through me while I’m in a trance.”
“One of your spooky-sounding spirits said I’d die within twelve hours.”
“I’m sorry to hear that, sir. The spirits never lie. If they say you’ll die, that’s your fate. Prepare yourself for the end.”
“That’s just what I wanna do. I wanna die making love to a gorgeous woman. It’ll cost a hundred bucks for a good-looking streetwalker. I’m almost broke. So give me a refund.”
“No refunds. I cannot be held responsible for what spirits say. You took the risk to hear the truth. You heard it. Now you want your money back. You’re wasting precious time. If you have less than twelve hours to live, perhaps you should be partying right now instead of harassing me.”
“I’ll give you harassment!” Ed’s fist knocked her backward. Her head slammed the pointy edge of a weird, demonic statue. The shock of seeing spurting blood cooled his rage.
“Dammit! She doesn’t have a heart beat. Funny, but I didn’t hear a spirit say she’d be dead within an hour. Maybe it was all a sham–that it was her making up things. Just to give folks the willies and make them feel like they got their money’s worth. Yeah, that’s what it was. Hell, I ain’t gonna die. I better get out of here. But I ain’t going without my refund. Hmm. Nice ring on her finger. That oughta get a few hundred at a pawn shop.”
Ed didn’t stop with the ring. Ransacking the apartment, he collected a fistful of jewelry and a pocketful of cash.
When he yanked open her front door to exit, he was shocked to see a huge dog blocking the way. Its red eyes and greenish glowing face froze Ed in his tracks.
“You killed my best channeler,” the dog said.
“She’s not dead,” Ed said in a quivering voice. “She’s unconscious.”
“I wouldn’t be here if she was unconscious. As a matter of fact, she sent me to avenge her. She’s waiting for you in the pit. I think you should join her. After all, you were told you’d be dead within twelve hours.”
“Can’t we make a deal? I’ll sell you my soul for twenty more years of life? I’ll be your slave. I’ll do anything you say.”
“Won’t work. Madame Glory lied. My spirit doesn’t control her. She controls me.”
The beast sprang at Ed and ripped his throat.