Gold Souled Here

* Thriller Short Story
When the local lowlifes heard the good news of easy money, they scrounged in attics and dug up family caskets. The punks had no room in their hard hearts for the sentimental value of heirlooms; they wanted cold hard cash now. The greedy ghouls sold Sol anything that they could get their dirty hands on.
After a year in the gold exchange business, it was time to move on. So on a dark and stormy Friday night, Sol closed up shop to liquidate his entire stock. Besides, there was nothing else to do on the long Christmas holiday weekend.
While the little old kiln was heating up on the large table in the back of the shop, Sol sifted through the antique jewelry. This would take delicate handling. He separated the bejeweled wedding rings and class rings from the plain gold bands.
Just for a laugh, Sol read some of the engraved inscriptions, "To my love. For my dearest. For eternity and beyond. H.E. + L.L. forever."
That last one took Sol's breath away. It was as if his strict old grandma was hissing a curse at him from the grave. The Cajun woman always said that he was a perfect heathen.
"There's nothing to be afraid of," Sol whispered to his soul that he had sold out for gold.
Before Sol could sit down, his senses began to reel. His eyes sprang out on their stalks at what he saw next. Vaporous beings materialized from the molten bands of gold. Now the room was filled with ghosts!