James sat in the dirty hospital room and held the huge contract in his hands. With a sigh he looked up at the demon sitting across from him.
“So,” James drawled. “How many wishes do I get and what do they cost?”
The demon smiled. “That depends. The more difficult the wish, the more of your soul you’ll spend. For example,” the demon said and pointed at James’s mother lying on the hospital bed. “To save her, it’ll cost every drop of your soul.”
“Are you stupid?” James sneered. “Let the bitch die. How much for eternal youth and wealth?”