Contractor: Chapter - 7

In which I consolidate an idea I didn't want to actually write while still keeping it within my ownership.

Never had I thought so clearly about anything as I had while writing that time. My mind was clear, the idea didn’t feel like it was leaving and I had everything in order from beginning to end. I did not feel as though time were against me either, as I had in my trial run. There was no candle burning just out of sight that told me the clock was ticking, and there was no worry about messing up, because I had my computer. Which, for all its flaws, was still better than the typewriter I had had to use before.

The story went like this:

There is a small website where several people play chess. While all players are anonymous, there are a few well acquainted members that have made a group of themselves. Ike, Peller, Romero, Locke, Caraway, and Ishmael. Caraway, a college student by the name of Nick Gibbons, is the main character. While all decent players, they know Locke is the best and Ike is the least skilled. Locke never wins, however, as they find it more challenging to end a game in a complete king to king stalemate.

The real story starts when a new player that goes by the name RIPS, what they consider a clever pun on “rest in pieces”, joins the site and challenges Peller to a match. Peller loses and several days later the body of a construction manager is found half in a block of fresh cement with the words rest in pieces written in the concrete next to him. The connection is not made until RIPS challenges Caraway and they chat during their match and RIPS mentions that he knew the reason Peller hadn’t been online in a while and subtly suggests the article about the murdered man. Caraway narrowly beats RIPS with a queen’s sacrifice. Caraway discusses his match with Romero, his closest friend on the site and relays his suspicions about RIPS. Romero tells him not to worry about it but he’ll keep his eyes open for anything fishy just to be safe.

The situation cools down until Ike is challenged and loses to RIPS, he relays his experience openly to the rest of their group saying that RIPS had openly admitted to the murder. Ike gives up his identity, Kenneth Shoel rookie police officer, as insurance. His wife is murdered the next day. With the players all worried Romero challenges RIPS with the hopes of uploading a spiderbug virus through the connection of the game to find RIPS himself. The virus succeeds but Romero loses and dies, appearing in a news article with the signature rest in pieces in his blood. Before his death however, Romero is able to send the information to Locke and a message to Caraway that he sent the information.

After Romero’s death, RIPS challenges all of the remaining players at the same time. These matches have much higher stakes though, as the players soon find out. When Caraway loses his bishop one of his college professors dies. He stops playing after that. Locke takes three moves into his match and stops. Ishmael plays very carefully making it several moves without losing a piece, while Ike plays recklessly stating that he’s already lost.

Caraway receives a message not long after he begins his game from Locke with instructions to meet him at a nearby secluded location that night. He goes, wary that it might be a trap with RIPS waiting for him, but discovers that Locke is a familiar face. Amelia Cash, a girl that attended his high school, gotten pregnant, and dropped out their senior year is actually Locke. While they didn’t know each other directly the vague familiarity surprises them both. The invitation was not just for Caraway however, Ike and Ishmael both show up. It is revealed that Ishmael is a very wealthy businessman that may or may not have gotten his wealth illegitimately and Ike is actually a police officer as he stated. Together they collaborate on how to properly confront RIPS out in the open, Locke does not share the information she received from Romero. Ike offers the aid of the police, while Locke claims that going to the police would be too risky as it would put them in the open and they have no idea who RIPS is. After preparing a place and having Ishmael lose his match, they wait for RIPS to arrive.  Nothing happens though, not until the four are separated. Ishmael and Ike, who was with him at the time, both disappear.

Locke admits to Caraway that she knew that one of them was really RIPS, only telling him because they were together when the two went missing. This eases his suspicions about her not telling everyone about the message she had gotten from Romero, which revealed this. The two both purposely lose their matches stating in the chat that they know that RIPS was either Ishmael or Ike and demanding that whoever it was end it. They tip off the police before heading to the place they had previously planned to set their trap.

They both suspect Ishmael, with his sketchy background, but his age is a factor. Never the less, they are surprised when Ike comes after them. After a terrible chase, a gunfight leaves Caraway injured and unconscious while Locke and Ike struggle over a gun. Ike is shot through the heart leaving Locke and a near dying Caraway alone with the police on the way.

Ike had previously been planning on killing his wife to collect an insurance payout and so arranged the entire serial murder scheme to cover it up. This explanation is given during the struggle between Ike and Locke.

Caraway survives. Ishmael is found dead. It is discovered that he had suspected he would die before the issue was over and left his fortune, without any living relatives, to Locke and Caraway. Due to legal issues with Ishmael’s money however, they only receive one dollar. The two resume their normal lives, the only change being that they meet up every Sunday to play chess in the park.

 

 

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I let out a sigh as I typed up the last page. This was it, truly the best I’d ever written. The characters were realistic, the plot was suspenseful, but it didn’t seem like the typical suspense novel. When I reread it I enjoyed it myself, which was an odd occurrence. It was funny that I found myself writing well now that I was all but dead. Would it be enough to keep me from fading away? Or did I not want to live forever? It was one or the other, normality was a lost option to me now. I hit the print button and walked away, it would be a while. With nothing but time on my hands, I wandered into the kitchen/dining/living room to find that Hope had wandered off again and left Amy behind to make sure I didn’t get distracted.

“Are you done?” She asked from the other side of my miserably small couch. I’d heard the television on earlier but there had been no indication as to who had been watching.

“Yep.” I hadn’t slept in four days and despite being unable to feel tired, I felt exhausted. Maybe I just wasn’t used to it yet and this was how all of them felt. Either way, I didn’t like it.

“That bad huh? Think he’ll let you live with crummy work?”

“It’s not the book, I like the book. Thank you for the idea by the way. I just feel tired, is that weird?”

“It is weird. Or at least it would be for me, or Hope, or anyone else, but I’m not sure what you are or how you work. It might just be because you’re on a partial and limited basis. You’ll probably feel better when the big guy writes you up a new contract.”

“If I want a new contract.”

“Trust me, you want a new one. If you don’t, your life meant nothing and it’s like you were never there to begin with. Running out of a limited time contract like yours is very different from dying. Dying is a physical thing, soul dissipation is complete annihilation of body and spirit. So yeah, you definitely want a new one, even if it’s just to let yourself die.”

“When does that happen anyways? I thought he’d just magically appear when I hit print like last time. Or is that not how it works?”

“When Hope gets back she can relay the message. Until then, and it might be a while, you’re stuck here with me.”

“That’s not so bad. It’s more company than I usually have.”

“You live here alone?” She seemed confused, like she’d heard something different. I didn’t doubt she’d been told to read my life story before showing up.

“No, my mom lives here too, she’s just not around much. She works most of the time, I haven’t even seen her since all this started.” That got me thinking. I hadn’t even heard her come home since any of this started. Amy noticed that I had noticed.

“She’s been sent away for a while, so she’s safe. I sort of... took care of it off the books for you. They don’t know that your mother lives here, so don’t mention it to anyone, family is a secretive thing with these people. A lot of contracts are made on the leverage of harming loved ones.”

“Why... what... I’m confused.”

“While Death had you on that three day preliminary, I was sent to scout things out. I got a little worried about her involvement, so I set things up for her to be promoted and attend a management seminar out of town. I also removed all traces of her that she didn’t remove herself. Including that nice little note in the garbage can.”

“Thank you... I think.” I was still confused, but once again, I felt as if asking more questions would do more harm than good.

“Just don’t mention it to anyone, especially Hope. If you haven’t noticed I don’t have much choice when it comes to what she wants.” I cringed at the memory.

“I’m sorry about that, I didn’t expect her to... you know... be able to do that kind of thing.”

“What you saw at the park was nothing. I’ve been under her employment for a long time and I’ve had to endure much, much worse."

"Oh..." I didn't really know what else to say.

“Trust me, if you knew how the system of collectors worked, you would have no sympathy. I deserve what I get, that’s the verdict at least, and I’m fine with it.” I didn’t know what to make of her, she kept leading on to all of these things that forced me to assume the truth, she was confusing and her attitude was just as bad. First she was nice, then she was bad, then she was nice again.

Footsteps coming up the stairs of the apartment building changed the direction of my focus. It was probably Hope, which meant that my time was pretty much up. Decision time. Live a distorted eternal life, die a normal death, or dissipate into nothing. You’d think it wouldn’t be much of a choice, but I had no idea what I was going to do.

“How’s it coming along?” Hope asked as soon as she stepped through the door. Though the second she saw me leaning over the couch talking to Amy she got the idea. “You’re done? Great I’ll tell dad.”

I waited but she didn’t move. There was a knock on the door a second later and Death walked in. He looked at me expectantly.

“Oh, right, I’ll get the manuscript for you.” For some reason I sort just expected him to automatically have gotten it and already read it by now. I ran over to the printer and checked the page number. It still had ten more pages to go.

“I am waiting, Albert.” Death had followed me to my room and was tapping his foot impatiently in the doorway.

“It still has a bit to print. I didn’t expect you so soon, I would have done it quicker if I had known you would be so... on time.”

“I tend to be, as you have said, on time. My time is very valuable, as you can imagine. Why did you not use the typewriter like before?”

“Uh... sir?” I didn’t know how to tell him I didn’t know that I could. If I could at all. My answer seemed to have negative effects anyway as I felt the familiar feeling of my energy draining away as he grew ever more aggravated.

“He can’t use the typewriter, dad, he’d still mostly mortal. Your contract didn’t allow for that kind of thing, even though you left it to him on a temporary basis.” Hope had followed behind him and was standing next to him in the doorway. Her interjection was... amazing. Even if Death wasn’t really Death, he was terrifying, and she had just stood up to him. Even if he was her father, I was impressed... and thankful, something I didn't really want to feel towards her after talking to Amy.

“Oh… right. Pardon my mistake, I pen many contracts and sometimes I forget such insignificant details.” The draining feeling left as quickly as it had come.

“It’s okay sir, I know just what you mean.” I was trying not to sound like too much of a suck up, but that was always a problem I’d had.

The printer beeped as the last page rolled out. I straightened up the stack of papers and handed them to Death.

“Thank you for the opportunity sir, and I hope you enjoy it.” He gave a quick look over the first page.

“I get the feeling I will.” He reached into his suit coat and pulled out a yellowed piece of paper with spidery scrawl on it. “Here is a rough write up of your new contract, it is a generous offer and I would implore you to read it more carefully than you did the last. You have talent Albert, and I would not object your survival.” With that he turned out of the doorway with his head down and walked down the hall. When I reached the door to follow him back to the living room, he had disappeared.

“Wow.” Hope seemed a little shocked. “He really likes you.” I gave her a questioning look. She couldn’t be serious. “I’m not kidding, he practically said he loved you like a son... in his own weird way at least.” My questioning look was more intense this time, but her tone stayed honest. “He doesn’t even praise me like that, not even when I do something incredible... not that I ever have.”

“I’m sure he was just being nice.”

“My dad’s the grim reaper. He isn’t supposed to be nice.”

“He can’t love reading that much... can he?”

“It’s about all he does when he’s not working. I’d write him a book to get attention myself but I don’t have the imagination for it, or the mind for the intricate plots that he likes. I’m honestly jealous of you.”

“You shouldn’t be. The admiration of one man, no matter how powerful, does not a life worth living make.”

“What if it’s your dad?” Her voice was getting more and more pathetic.

“At least you have a dad.” That shut her down. She’d probably been bagging on herself for so long she didn’t think anyone could be worse off.

“You two seem to be having a nice little pity party over there.” Amy had wandered up the hall. “You both think your lives suck. Let me just settle it and say that you both have better lives than me so that we can move along in life.”

"She's right, her life actually sucks." Hope quickly recovered from her pity fit at the concept of Amy's supposedly horrible life. "Now, let's take a look at that contract, shall we?"