The Sorcerer's Pact: A Double Life in the Shadows

Part 1: The Child Who Grew Up Before Her Time

The most devastating psychological crisis you can ever experience is finding yourself forced to do something you absolutely despise, yet having no choice but to do it anyway. You might ask me: What could that possibly be?

My name is Maryam. I dropped out of school at a very young age, and I still remember that day vividly. I left school as a ten-year-old child. Some might wonder why, but the short of it is that my parents were living in abject poverty, and I had to do whatever it took to lend them a helping hand. You might be surprised and ask: How can a ten-year-old child support a family? My answer is that this is life; when you are tested by harsh circumstances, you grow up before your time and age far beyond your years.

Truth be told, I was a very intelligent person, and it's not just me claiming this — everyone vouched for it. Even my teacher, when he learned I was dropping out, came to our house and spoke to my parents, saying:

"You are wronging this girl. She is incredibly hardworking and bright, and I foresee a brilliant and great future for her."

Then, he knelt beside me and asked tenderly:

"What do you want to become when you grow up, my daughter?"

I couldn't hold back and answered instinctively:

"A doctor... but, teacher, I won't be able to finish my studies."

I only shared this introduction so you know that I didn't enter this dangerous, dark world of my own free will; it was the cruel circumstances that threw me into its inferno. My parents didn't force me to leave; I made the decision willingly, for their sake. Now, I will tell you the story for which I am writing these words.

Part 2: The Mysterious Man

Since my childhood, I had to do terrible things to earn money and send it to my family, and I'm sure you understand exactly what I mean. When I grew a bit older, around seventeen, I moved in with a woman — a madam — and I would send money to my parents every month to help them. That woman's house regularly hosted men, and the clients always chose me to spend their nights with.

One day, an elderly man arrived, seemingly in his fifties. It was obvious the madam knew him very well, as she welcomed him warmly, saying:

"Welcome, Haj, welcome."

She prepared the best room in the house for him — the one strictly reserved for the wealthy and influential. She asked him how many girls he needed, and he replied that he only wanted one. The madam called us over, and we stood in a straight line before her. The Haj began inspecting us carefully until his choice fell on me. He pointed at me and said:

"Follow me."

I followed him into the room. He asked for my name, and when I told him, he said:

"You have a beautiful name, but I don't want to have sex with you."

Astonished, I asked:

"Then what do you want? This is the only work I know."

Calming me down, he said:

"Patience... wait. I saw something in you that you don't even see in yourself."

Fueled by curiosity, I asked:

"Like what?"

He replied:

"If you are patient and do exactly as I instruct, you will understand everything. Take this $100. I will stay here with you for an hour, then leave as if nothing happened. But I want you to come to this address — and here is my phone number — to work with me in a different business where you will make a fortune."

Suspiciously, I asked:

"What kind of business?"

He said:

"If you want to know, call me tomorrow, come to the address, and you will discover everything. I will shower you with money."

Part 3: An Offer Too Strange to Refuse

At that moment, the idea seemed like a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, and I was ready to do whatever he asked. What could possibly be worse than selling my body? I just desperately needed the money. After the hour passed, we left the room. The man handed the madam an envelope that looked thick with cash, then left.

She immediately came to me, asking curiously:

"What did he tell you? Did he leave a tip?"

I lied to her, knowing she always stole from us and exploited us. I didn't mention the $100 or tomorrow's appointment. Instead, I said:

"He didn't say much; he just gave me $50."

Amazed, she said:

"By God, you are lucky! Hand over the $50 and take $25 of it."

I gave her the money and took my share.

The next day was my day off — Friday. I worked all week and rested on this day, much like public sector employees. I woke up extremely early; in fact, I hadn't slept a wink that night. I finished work at 3:00 AM, and since then, sleep had evaded me. I kept replaying the man's words in my head, consumed by a deadly curiosity to know the nature of this job. At dawn, I dozed off for an hour or two, then left the house without breakfast and headed to the address he gave me. I called him to say I was at the designated spot, and he replied with evident delight:

"Excellent, excellent! I'm coming. Give me 15 minutes, and I'll be right there."

Part 4: Into the Darkness

Exactly 15 minutes later, he arrived in his car. I got in, and he drove me through forests and rugged agricultural trails until we reached his solitary house deep in the heart of a vast woodland. I couldn't understand how he navigated his way there; he kept turning left and right through disorienting, lost paths. Panicked, I looked at the road and said:

"A car can't pass through here!"

He answered confidently:

"It will pass, I will get through. I know this road by heart. If anyone rode with us, crossed this path, and then tried to return alone, they would never remember the way. The entire area looks identical — trees surround us on all sides, there is no asphalt, just dirt trails in the heart of the forest."

Finally, we reached his home. It was a massive house surrounded by dogs and other animals like horses, donkeys, and chickens. We went inside, sat down, and he spoke in a serious tone:

"Now I will explain the nature of the work you will join me in. I deal with VIPs and powerful figures in the country — artists, politicians, and even foreigners who travel here to have me solve their problems and fulfill their desires. Some want to become the president of the state, others seek to win elections for high office, or a woman aspiring for the lead role in a movie... among other things."

I interrupted him, asking:

"And how can I help you with all of this?"

He replied:

"I will assign you special missions to execute for me. In return, I will make you filthy rich. Within one year, I promise you will be playing with money, and you will bid farewell to that filthy world where you sell your body. What do you say? I didn't choose you at random; as I told you before, there is an energy and certain traits within you that you don't even realize. With time, I will reveal the secrets of this domain to you."

Part 5: A Pact with the Devil

The moment he uttered the word "secrets," my eyes widened, and a sweeping curiosity took hold of me once more. The money didn't excite me as much as the burning desire to uncover those hidden secrets. That was the main reason I accepted. And so, we began working together.

Among the missions he assigned me during the first year was sending me to graveyards. I was tasked with exhuming the graves of the newly deceased and stealing body parts. Sometimes I took locks of hair, other times fingernails, and sometimes... a hand. Yes, I severed the hands of the dead! I continued committing these atrocities for a long time, plunging deeper and becoming a monster in the devil's realm.

Later on, I married this man, and I remain his wife to this day. We still do this work together. In reality, absolutely no one knows my truth or what I do, except my husband. The people around me see me as a kind, shy girl who is always the first to do good deeds, because I pulled my family out of poverty and I help anyone who needs me, especially in the neighborhood where I grew up. Everyone holds me up as an example of morality and generosity.

But this double life has caused a crushing psychological crisis. Sleep has abandoned me. I spend my nights thinking about the corpses, the terrifying rituals we perform, and how we deal with jinns and demons. I felt an overwhelming urge to tell my story to people who do not know my true identity. I don't know why I do all of this, but I do it, and that's it. I am not sure if I will continue diving into the details of my story with you. I will wait to see what my mind and conscience dictate.

Goodbye for now.