There is a shop that comes into town on Boxing Day, not selling anything but offering a trade you can't refuse. Much like all the other pop-up shops, it never lasts beyond a week and is staffed by a complete stranger, a nobody with a deep and soulful voice who promises you things that can't be possible, that shouldn't be possible.
Last year my coworker Sheila went there after her divorce - traded her heartache for whatever he could give her and by his mercy he gave her a true passion for her work and inspiration enough to write ten novels. He could have easily given her a swift death - he's done so before, so many times before.
When the less than savoury people come to see him, he's prepared for whatever they want to trade. Sometimes it's something as simple as a gambling debt paid off while other times it's more complicated and leaves a trail of bodies in its wake. The last one was dubbed "the tissue murders" for the fact that every victim had a body part taken and roughly replaced with a tissue and string replica while the number of patients on the organ transfer list dropped to none. Typical doctors - they never want to work unless it's simple.
January is a time for seeing the trades in action from the drastic physical alterations to the drastic physical deformities all lost and gained from the same man and his little shop. I wonder if he lives around the area, waiting to see how his "miracles" pan out over the next few weeks or if he goes to another town, another country to continue his business, acquire the impossible from his little trades and cause absolute chaos in his wake.
Last year my coworker Sheila went there after her divorce - traded her heartache for whatever he could give her and by his mercy he gave her a true passion for her work and inspiration enough to write ten novels. He could have easily given her a swift death - he's done so before, so many times before.
When the less than savoury people come to see him, he's prepared for whatever they want to trade. Sometimes it's something as simple as a gambling debt paid off while other times it's more complicated and leaves a trail of bodies in its wake. The last one was dubbed "the tissue murders" for the fact that every victim had a body part taken and roughly replaced with a tissue and string replica while the number of patients on the organ transfer list dropped to none. Typical doctors - they never want to work unless it's simple.
January is a time for seeing the trades in action from the drastic physical alterations to the drastic physical deformities all lost and gained from the same man and his little shop. I wonder if he lives around the area, waiting to see how his "miracles" pan out over the next few weeks or if he goes to another town, another country to continue his business, acquire the impossible from his little trades and cause absolute chaos in his wake.
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