Contractor: Chapter - 6

A Chapter by Outdated Account

In which I think I know how to chess.

"So what’s the story?" Hope asked, excited now. It hadn’t taken her very long to get to business. She hadn’t even finished putting away the dishes from breakfast, a task she had insisted on doing. "I read your last manuscript, the one you gave dad. It was pretty good, not really the kind of thing I normally read, but it was readable."

"Thank you..." I hadn’t really ever intended for anyone but Death to read it. I’d sort of written it like a personal plea for life. "It wasn’t really my best work, but thanks."

"Do you have any idea what you want to write about?" She’d been quick to return to a subject I would rather avoid. I didn’t come up with ideas, they just came to me and I had to grab hold of them and pin them to a page before they could escape. "You’ll need to have something really good to get a more permanent contract. If you can’t you’ll just waste away to nothing."

"That’s comforting to know, thank you for that horrible taste of reality." The thought of withering away was upsetting my stomach again, and that just sent off a loop. I’m sick because I’m dying and dying is making me sick. "But no, I have no idea what I’m going to write about. Does Death... er... your dad have a genre that he’s particularly fond off?"

"I don’t know about a genre, but he enjoys complex characters. It’s probably the reason he’s putting up with you, your characters seem to be realistically unpredictable, at least from what I’ve seen."

"That doesn’t really help me much, but it does give me a start." I sighed. "I can basically make the setting whatever I want then, the simpler the better. The characters have to be heavily individualized and interesting. That’ll probably lead to a very complicated plot, so that might drag the physical length out a bit."

"So what will it be about?" She asked again. I could tell her patience was wearing thin.

"I still have no idea, I usually can’t just think of these kinds of things on a whim. The ideas just show up when I’m least prepared."

"When would you say that you’re most unprepared then?" She had that mischievous look on her face again.

"School usually, or whenever I go out and do things, which isn’t often." I was hesitant to answer but I’d rather appease the look than have it drag on.

"Then you should probably go to school." She waited, looking expectant.

"You mean now?" Did she not know what time it was? It was late, it would be impossible to get in the building now without attracting attention.

"Yes, I mean now. Now go, your bag's by the door." I looked at her, awestruck for a moment. Waiting any longer might have provoked her though, so I left… silently. I could feel her mischievous look all the way out and for a little bit on the sidewalk outside from the apartment window too.

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The small courtyard outside the front of the school was empty when I got there. Not a good sign, it made me nervous. I was never late. Even if school didn’t matter anymore, my anxiety was giving me a headache. I walked into the front office with my head hidden away in my hood and a slouch that hid my face even further.

"Head up please and let me see your ID." The woman behind the glass panel asked.

We didn’t have a front desk, it was more like a front booth made for the safety of the secretary. I pulled my hood off and slid my ID through the slot at the bottom of the glass and waited as she wrote something on a piece of paper. She slid my ID back with a detention slip and buzzed me through the front door. I’d never had to go through the front entrance before, it made me think of what a prison might be like if I were going to visit someone. The metal detector I had to walk through after that only made the feeling stronger.

The halls were just as empty as the courtyard had been. The sound of my footsteps echoed off the walls and it gave me an eerie feeling. I found myself looking over my shoulder as I walked and checking both directions whenever I turned a corner. I’d definitely been scared straight by my encounter with Death and it wasn’t wearing off. When I finally reached my class my heart was racing for no particular reason and my eyes were darting to every small movement in the classroom. Seats were not officially assigned, but there was a new girl I didn’t recognize sitting at the desk I usually occupied. I slouched my way over to the desk next to it, which had been empty the entire school year, and sat down unnoticed.

"You really are good at going around without being seen. Even here where everyone is looking at something other than what they’re supposed to be." It was the new girl. I knew she was new to the school because I would have recognized her before. She stood out like a sore thumb with her scraped up and worn out blue jeans, tan hiking boots, hunter’s camo jacket, and raggedly cut blonde hair tied back in a braid. Every other blonde in the school wore their hair long to emphasize it, she seemed to regret it.

"You seem to be the only one that noticed." I whispered back without turning to look, focusing partly on the lesson being taught. If I was going to come up with an idea, I needed to not think about ideas.

"Yeah, you start to notice things normal people don’t after the first hundred years." I stopped at that. She was joking right? Or was she? Was she another whatever it was that Death and Hope were... contractors?

"I’m starting to get the feeling that you’re here because I am and you noticed me because you were looking specifically for me, which brings more questions to mind. Why are you here and why are you talking to me?" My whispering had gotten progressively quicker and harsher.

"Calm down, I’m just keeping an eye on you for Hope. She had to go take care of some important business. Slacker. She just wanted to do some stupid tourist thing while she was here. Gave me the boring job."

"Do you have something you want to share with the class, Mrs. Landcaster?" She’d been talking too loudly, and the teacher had called her out.

"Yeah, me and Al were talking about how boring your class was." I entered a silent rage. Even if school was pointless she could very well be ruining my idea process, and that had a point.

"That’s not the best way to spend your first day in a new school, and while I find it hard to believe that Mr. Carol would do something like that, I will not play favorites. Both of you, detention, now."

Objection would make it worse, even if I could prove to him that I had done nothing wrong. Talking back didn’t sound like a good idea either, nor did silence, even if silence doesn’t sound like anything.

"Thanks a lot." I hissed angrily as I followed her out of the room. "I hope you're happy with yourself now that I'm pretty much doomed."

"Ecstatic, absolutely thrilled, it simply made my day." Her sarcasm and carefree attitude were seriously ticking me off.

"I should kill you." Even if I probably couldn't. "Before I waste away into dust or whatever it is that's going to happen."

"You can't."

"Maybe I could convince Death to." He seemed reasonable enough, even if he considered me as insignificant as a flea.

"He can't kill me either."

"He's Death, he can kill anything he wants."

"I'll let you in on a little secret, contrary to what you may believe the contractor you call Death was once a man. He has never been, nor will he ever be the Grim Reaper, there is no such thing. Death is a guise that has been worn by many, he just wants you to think he's Death, and if you had any brains you'd listen to him. But once you're out of the shark tank, and I’d advise you to make that move quickly, you'd be wise to remember the truth." She had caught me off guard with that.

"Thank… you?" I was being sincere, but she was starting to worry me. "I'd rather you not tell me more though."

"Smart choice." A quick smile played across her face as we walked up to the classroom used for mid-school detention. "Usually people like me aren’t allowed to share that kind of information anyways. It’s ironic that I can now but you don’t want me to." She paused. "Or is that actually irony. I don’t normally encounter these types of things outside of books, and then I just trust the author knows what they’re saying..." She trailed off with a thoughtful look on her face.

"Do you really intend to go in?" She had stopped me with my hand on the doorknob. I had been asking the question to myself the entire time but I couldn't decide if it was a waste of time or a place where I could get an idea.

"Do you have a better place in mind to spend my day trying to think of something to write about?"

"There's a park down the street, it's a nice day, ‘sounds better than detention to me."

"I came here to think though, leaving would mean that..."

"You can't think at the park?" I glared at her. "I know what you mean, you think better when you aren't trying. Problem is, by doing this you're trying."

"You have a point." I sighed. She was much wiser than she appeared. "Don't know if going to the park will help with the problem though. Either way I’m out of the house to try and get inspired by not trying to get inspired. I was doomed from the start."

"Won’t know till you go and see, will you?"

"Might as well enjoy some of my last hours somewhere half decent. Lead the way."

The halls were empty, we didn't see anyone, and our exit was undisputed. This girl struck me as one that had skipped school before, or at least she seemed to have the confidence of someone who had.

When we reached the park the world seemed vacant. I couldn’t hear any unnatural sound which was so strange to me. Even at my apartment the sounds of the city were still present despite the walls closing me off from it. The grass was green, the trees were lush, and somehow the stone tables arranged around the central courtyard were squeaky clean. It’d never occurred to me before that I had never actually been to this park… apparently most other people could say the same. Still… the lack of people, even here where no one seemed to disturb the natural course of things, bothered me.

"Where is everybody?" I whispered. It was more to myself than her but she answered anyway.

"Living their lives, going to school, working at their jobs. Things people like us don't do." She sighed. "You'll get used to seeing the world like this eventually."

"So what do you normally do during the day if you don't wok or go to school?" I was honestly curious as to what I'd gotten in to.

"I like watching the world go by."

"Huh, that's pretty... zen, for someone that deals in death."

"Al, you learn to be very patient when you don't die."

“Am I never going to die if this all goes smoothly then?”

“Eh, probably.” Her dismissal unnerved me.

I let it sink in though. Did I really want to live forever? Because I was either going to die now or never. I either thought of an idea or I didn't, not that that part was exactly under my control, but the rest of it was.

"You know, I don't really know anything about you, and here I am following you to a secluded area near the woods."

"Another thing you get used to."

"You at least have a name though, or do I just have to fly completely blind with you?"

"Amy."

"That's a start, but you're still not giving me a lot of visibility, Amy."

"Let’s play chess."

"What?" Her request confused me. It was a very straightforward redirection, I felt she had other intentions in her request though.

"Chess, you know, the strategy board game... like checkers only more complicated? They have tables here and I have the pieces." I knew what the game was.

"Okay." I paused, stupefied as she pulled a case out of her backpack. It looked like it was the only item she was carrying in it.

"White or black?" Amy asked quickly as she began to gently place the carved wooden pieces on the table.

"Black."

"You do know that white goes first, right? Given the choice most people go with white."

"I know, I prefer to adapt to my opponent. Letting them show me their first move before I do anything helps me get in their head."

"So you play the mental strategy." She hummed as she set up a board. The pieces didn’t really look like the traditional ones you see in store-bought sets. I had a sneaking suspicion that she’d actually carved them herself… and done a wonderful job. "That's not always the best way to go, but that's just my opinion."

"Are you trying to psych me out?" The confident look on her face made me think she didn’t need to bother with a mind game to beat me. Then again, her confidence in her mind game could be what had brought about the look.

"Might be. You'll have to play to see." She moved her first piece.

"So..." I tried to think of something to say while contemplating my moves. "If you don't mind me asking, what are you people exactly?" I moved a pawn to the diagonal middle square of the board to tempt her.

"What do you mean by that?" She took my pawn.

"You're not human right? So what are you?" I moved a knight out.

"Kind of human." She moved her knight pawn up.

"That's no fun. Come on, are you a contractor, a zombie, I wouldn't even be that upset if you said vampire." I moved up my king pawn. "Okay maybe I’d be a little disappointed."

"Fine. I'm a collector. I collect contract payments… among other things."

"You collect people's souls... interesting. So you're a professional killer." I moved my bishop out.

"I wouldn't call it killing. I prefer to think that the moment they sell their souls is when they die. I just clean up the corpse." She moved her king pawn up two squares.

"I guess you could say that if it helps you sleep at night." I moved a random pawn up, not paying attention on purpose. This was the mind game, confidence.

"I don't sleep often. Only once every few years just to burn some time. I'm sure you've realized by now that sleeping isn't essential for us." I recalled last night, I hadn't felt any better in the morning and I hadn't moved an inch the whole time. I was caught up in the memory and didn't see her move. "Even then what you call sleep isn’t exactly what I call sleep anymore."

"I have noticed and I can't tell whether that's a good or bad thing." I took a pawn with my bishop.

"It’s neither. No dreams could be considered bad, but there aren't any nightmares either. No rest, no weariness. It’s a balanced equation." She moved her queen out. "Checkmate."

"What?" Her announcement didn't really register.

"Checkmate, I win."

"No way. No way you checked me that quick."

"You seem to be forgetting that I'm very old, and very wise." She was right, her looks had deceived me. I had underestimated her, making my mind game useless.

"Rematch." She moved the pieces back to their starting positions on the board.

"Since you seem so eager to play again, how about we make a wager. If I win, I get the rights to... one eighth of your soul. If you win you can have one eighth of mine."

"Okay..." I couldn't tell if she was being serious or not. I was afraid to ask for some reason. "Why not."

"White or black?" She asked again.

"Black."

"Really? Well it's your soul."

Pawn e2 to e4, pawn f7 to f5 to tempt, Pawn e4 takes pawn f5, pawn g7 to g5 to cover, queen d1 to h5, checkmate.

"I win again."

"You were just toying with me the first time weren't you."

"I just got checkmate in three, what do you think?"

"Well there goes my soul."

"Relax, I can't do that. I only collect, I can't contract. It was a trick bet anyway, I don't even own my soul so you couldn't have had it even if you'd won."

"Why did you make the bet then?"

"I was playing my own little mind game."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Look at those two older gentlemen playing chess at that table." She gestured to another table. Two old men were playing very slowly with serious poker faces. I had completely missed them in my initial look at the park. "What do you think they're playing for?"

"Nothing. They're probably just playing."

"Right, that makes them able to play more objectively. They’ve been here longer than us and do you see how many moves they've made? Hardly any. With nothing on the line their game lasts longer. You thought you were risking your soul and with your judgement clouded I got a three move win on you."

"That's crazy. There's no way you could predict something like that."

"Yet I still won, and with a fools checkmate no less." Her facial expression changed quickly as if she'd heard something. "Switch places with me."

"What?" She'd caught me off guard.

"I can't turn the table, so switch seats, now." She was already up and pushing me out of my chair. I got up and just as I sat down on the other side of the table Hope walked in out of nowhere.

"I’d ask if I missed something important, but I obviously did because you two aren’t at the school like you should be, but I see you spent your time wisely." Amy was slouching into her chair, she looked like an entirely different person now that Hope was here. Like she was afraid, which had me confused because she had outright said that she had no fear of Death. Hope, however, seemed to leave her shaking in her boots.

"I got a detention for being late. I figured it would be a waste of time to actually go to detention so I wound up here. Do you two know each other?" Lying seemed to be the right thing to do at the moment.

"Amy, why are you always so rude. You challenged him to a game and you didn’t even introduce yourself. Tell him your name."

"Amy Landcaster." Her voice was dull and emotionless.

"Politely for goodness sake! Introduce yourself politely!"

"Hello, my name is Amy Landcaster, I’m a friend of Hope’s, pleasure to make your acquaintance." Her voice sounded wrong. She may have sounded polite but it was forced.

"Good, now... looks like you beat her. That’s uncommon, I can only ever beat her when I make her lose, which isn’t much fun so I don’t really do it anymore." She sighed. This was obviously normal for her, which seemed wrong on more than one level. "Did you get any ideas? That was the point of going out after all."

"Yes actually... I did." Repulsed by the sight of Hope and Amy’s reaction to her my eyes had drifted to the two old men playing chess on the other table. An idea drifted into my head and a picture began to grow from it like a network of vines. It was weird because I didn’t feel it drifting away at all, it only seemed to be getting stronger the longer I held onto it.

"Let’s go then, you only have six days and a few hours to write it down. You had better get started."

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