The charm in his hand was said to be lucky, except no one lived to tell the tale. Now it was his….
Loki played the scene in his mind over again. The Sahir had specifically instructed him to find the businessman with a jagged mark on his temple like a small lightning bolt.
"Find him and take the charm around his wrist from him without his knowledge. Do this and you will be lucky all your life," the Sahir instructed sternly.
Loki, an orphan found in the gutters by a drunk on one of his inebriated days and brought up in foster homes, wanted a change of luck in life. Nothing he did ever panned out successfully. All of his mates from the same foster home were doing great, except him.
He was a mischievous child and his foster mother blamed the drunk who found him for the name, Loki. He'd told his friend, Abad, that he would visit the Sahir for a solution to his ill-fortune. He wanted more out of life.
"Be careful what you wish for, friend." Those were Abad's words before they parted.
Loki shook his head. Abad does not understand what it feels like. Taking the charm from the businessman was no big deal, he was very good at pickpocketing as a child.
Loki went into the building, saw the businessman striding towards the elevator and brushed past him with apologies. The man waved it off as okay just as the elevator pinged open and he stepped into it. He smiled at Loki as the door snapped close and it moved up. Loki smiled back and opened his palm to admire the shiny charm bracelet.
Suddenly, there was a heavy thud that shook the building signifying the elevator had stopped halfway. The loud sound of an alarm followed. There was panic in the building. The security men rushed in while the receptionists called for help.
"The elevator is stuck! The CEO is in it. What do we do?" A lady rambled.
Loki froze and watched as elevator installers arrived within minutes and worked hard to free the CEO. After twenty minutes, they succeeded in opening the door to reveal the man, white as a sheet, his eyes and mouth were opened in horror. He was dead.
The jagged lightning mark on his temple was gone.
"What have you done, Loki?" Abad asked solemnly while gazing at the lighting mark on his temple. He traced it lightly with his hand.
"I remember this charm from the stories my uncle once told me. I assumed it was a myth. It's said to bring you good luck for a certain time but the owner never lives to tell the tale."
Loki stared at his friend. "Are you sure?" He asked.
Abad furrowed his brows in irritation. "You saw it yourself. That CEO is dead because you took it from him."
Loki broke into a laugh. "It could be natural causes. Myth? You are trying to make me afraid and it almost worked for a second there," he said, tapping Abad on the shoulder. "Go home to your girlfriend. I'm the luckiest man alive now!"
Loki promised himself to keep the charm safe so no one could take it away.
The tides changed for Loki. He became lucky, rich, lived comfortably and the mark on his temple grew darkly etched on his skin.
After a year, Loki's workers in one of his buildings protested because one of them fell to his death and he refused to compensate the widow. His manager insisted. "You owe this poor woman and you have more than enough money. Pay her."
"How dare you?" Loki stared his manager down. "Do you want to lose your job, old man? I paid her her husband's outstanding salary. I owe her nothing more."
Due to the protest, Loki decided to travel out of the country and return when the situation had calmed down. At the airport, passing through the checks, he was searched and waved through to board the plane.
As he sat comfortably in his first-class seat, he felt a sharp sting on his left temple. He winced and touched the area. He froze, his eyeballs bulging.
The lightning mark was gone.
"No, no. No!" Loki chanted loudly. He stood and searched around. The other passengers gazed at him like he had gone mad. A pretty flight attendant walked up to him. "Sir, are you alri—"
He grabbed her neck and squeezed. "Was it you? Let me have it!"
It took three strong airport security men to rescue the flight attendant from Loki's grasp. He fought them wildly. He was subdued, put into cuffs and locked up in the holding cell. The plane took off without him.
Loki slid down the dirty wall of the holding cell and whimpered into his palms. He heard footsteps approaching.
"How does it feel to be helpless again?" A soft voice asked. Loki glanced up. It was the Sahir. He crawled towards the iron bars and held them.
"Sahir, it is gone!" He whispered harshly, his eyes red from crying. "I don't know how but a scoundrel must have taken it when I did not know."
The Sahir guffawed. Loki stared, his mouth opened in shock, as he sighted the lightning mark on the Sahir's temple.
"I am the scoundrel that took the charm from you. It's about time it returned home."
"B-but —"
"But nothing, Loki. I made you lucky, rich and famous and you repay me with evil.
"What are you talking about?"
"My son!" He declared vehemently. "My son fell on your construction site and you did nothing to help until he died. And now you refuse to compensate my daughter-in-law. Disappointing. I believed you would be better than the past owners of this charm. Alas, you are the same! Now you won't live to tell the tale either."
Loki became speechless. The Sahir waved his hand and turned to walk away. Slowly the cell walls and iron bars began to groan and close in on him.
"No. Wait. Sahir!" Loki found his voice and called out. No one came to aid as the walls merged into each other, his terrifying screams snuffed out.
The end.