I Signed a Deal with a DEVILISH Car Salesman

Introduction

I pulled to a stop in front of the enormous new car dealership, the sun glaring off a thousand polished car windshields, nearly blinding me as I stepped out of the Uber. As I squinted at my driver, he nodded goodbye and rolled away, cautioning me with strange words as he drove off. "Be careful, the people who run these places are all Devils." I laughed at his unorthodox phrasing, but his words lingered in my mind.

Like millions of others, I needed an affordable car urgently. My last car had been sideswiped, and the insurance adjuster had written it off with a lowball price tag that left me desperate. As I wandered the lot of shiny automobiles, I kept an eye out for salespeople, ready to employ the negotiation tactics I had watched on YouTube. Surprisingly, no one approached me, and I felt invisible, perhaps dismissed due to my weary clothes and footwear.

After a while, I stumbled upon a car inexplicably within my budget: a peculiar model I had never heard of, the Pactum Dali. It boasted low miles, air conditioning, heated seats, and even a sunroof. I hesitated but finally entered the dealership, my heart racing with nerves.

"Hi, welcome to Nattis Auto Sales! How can I help you?" a woman at the reception desk asked. I asked about the Pactum, and soon a salesman emerged, his vibrant smile reminding me eerily of Christian Bale in American Psycho.

"Definitely! Would you like to take it for a test drive?" he asked, jingling a set of keys. On the road, the car felt perfect—everything I needed and more. It was better than anything I had ever owned, and I felt an adrenaline rush as I drove, lost in his cheerful antics as we sang along to "Highway to Hell."

"I'm sold!" I exclaimed as we returned to the dealership. However, as I prepared to sign the paperwork, he playfully told me, "Slow down! You haven't even taken me out to dinner yet."

With a laugh, I signed the contract without a second thought. What I failed to notice was not just the details on the first page but the stack of blank pages behind it. The salesman assured me it was a printing error and handed me the keys to the car, saying, "Enjoy! I'll be speaking to you very soon."

At that moment, the last shreds of caution slipped through my fingers. I failed to grasp the implications of those words.

Later that day, I unthinkingly placed the contract on my coffee table, where it lay undisturbed as I made lunch. I was startled when I heard a strange hissing sound coming from the paper—a noise unlike anything I'd ever heard. A small puddle formed by my glass of water and eventually seeped toward the contract, making me pull it away. As I flipped through the pages, I was taken aback to find that one had transformed; it now included a clause that stated I was required to bring six cups of black coffee from Starbucks to the dealership every Tuesday morning at 8:00 a.m. Suddenly, I was locked into a bizarre obligation.

Confused, I called the dealership, hoping to clarify what felt like an absurd joke. When I reached the salesman, he assured me I wouldn’t mind the coffee runs, considering the deal I received. I found myself nodding, convinced that perhaps it was manageable to do this once a week. So began my descent into madness.

As the weeks turned into months, I was overwhelmed with tasks rooted in the contract; there were endless chores for Nattis at the dealership. I found myself engaging in ridiculous routines: cleaning his backyard, detailing cars, and ultimately becoming entwined in a lifestyle that consumed my every waking moment.

The amendments kept escalating—each one more sinister than the last, until I found myself faced with a chilling demand to murder a man. Panic washed over me at the thought of harming anyone, but I realized I had no choice. I began to comply unwillingly, sleepwalking into a twisted reality where I was forced to commit heinous acts.

One night, however, everything changed. I awoke with a sense that the grip of the contract was loosening. When I looked outside, the Pactum Dali was gone, as if it had never existed. As I re-read the contract, the words began to fade away, giving me a sense of exhilaration and relief.

In a moment of curiosity, I revisited the now defunct dealership, which had undergone a transformation in ownership, now operating as Secura Continent Predo Auto Sales. The new staff treated me warmly, suggesting that they could offer me a better deal without the malicious undertones of Nattis's former practice.

I learned then that sometimes what seems like a blessing—a shiny car or a deal too good to be true—may come at a far higher cost than anyone can anticipate.

Keywords

• Car dealership
• Pactum Dali
• Nattis Auto Sales
• Contract
• Obligation
• Dark demands
• Demonic deal
• Murder

FAQ

What does the Pactum Dali represent?
The Pactum Dali symbolizes an alluring but dangerous deal that comes with unforeseen consequences.

What happened when the protagonist signed the contract?
Upon signing, numerous unexpected obligations and dark requirements were imposed on him, leading to morally despicable acts.

Can a terrible deal always be returned?
In this tale, attempting to escape the contract’s terms leads to greater complications; returning the car does not break the contract.

What is the significance of the Starbucks coffee clause?
Initially, it seems harmless—a weekly coffee run. However, it sets the stage for increased responsibilities that entrap the protagonist in sinister obligations.

How does the story conclude?
The protagonist breaks free from the contract's hold, discovering that the dealership has changed ownership, symbolizing a new beginning away from the previous horrors.