"(...) We are here to laugh at the odds and live our lives so well that Death will tremble to take us.” ― Charles Bukowski
The horses tore away but soon came to a halt. The wind howled, and from a swirl of dirt and dust, there appeared a tall, black figure in the midst of the road—the coachman sank into his seat, quaking uncontrollably, and the horses began to stomp and snort in fear.
The man within the coach smiled faintly, with resignation. His time had come; the covenant had expired, he realized, unless… unless he had aught more to offer him.
The coach suddenly creaked beneath the dreadful weight of the black figure, which had now drifted within.
“Master,” the man said, “grant me more.”
“Hast thou aught else to offer thy Lord in return?”1
“Whatsoever it pleaseth my Master to take! Take me!” he added. “But only after I have quenched my thirst for power.”
“Then I shall take thee sooner than thou expectest. I shall grant thee such power that, when thou hast conquered the whole world, thou wilt neither want nor need aught else.”
“Aye, Master! Aye!”
The shadow grinned, thinking the man would soon be sated and surrender to him.
“As thou wilt,” he finally said and then vanished.
The man ruled for eighty years. Armies and rulers alike kneeled before him, until one day there was no more land to be won—every man and thing was his.
“It is time,” said a voice from amongst the shadows.
“Nay!”
“Indeed it is!” countered Darkness, angrily. “Thou hast all now; naught remaineth to be gained—all is thine, and thus art thou mine.”
“Then why doth my greed yet not wane?”
“Impossible!” his voice rumbled with fury. “What more canst thou desire?”
“Thy world—the very heavens!”
“Doth thy greed indeed know no bounds?”
The man chuckled, mockingly. “Thou hast ever underestimated man’s sinful nature. I was born in sin; Adam’s corrupted flesh is mine, and thus shall I never be virtuous enough to meet my Maker. Yet, by that same nature, I shall never be thine either, for even thou, who wert cast out by Him, hast thy bounds.”
Darkness laughed, thunderingly. “Then I shall await till thy feeble heart doth cease.”
“Aye, thou shalt have me in the end, but not upon thy terms. By my boundless sin, I have bested thee, Dark Lord.”
Unable to claim him, Darkness let out a harrowing roar and then vanished into the air.
The now ruler of all spent the last years of his life in complete disregard for good or ill, seeking only to fulfill his insatiable appetites.
some vocabulary and phrasing was refined for a more Medieval English tone with the aid of ChatGPT.
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