Notice

Hey, just your friendly neighborhood procrastinating writer. Just a couple of things before you begin your journey: The first four chapters were written... several, several years ago. The story's plot (and my skill as a writer) have changed exponentially since then. But for the sake of not getting sucked into the endless voice of editing and revising a story that mostly needs to be scrapped, I've decided to just continue from where I left off and wait until I've completely finished it to actually get around to all that technical mumbo jumbo.

With this in mind, please excuse how cringy, unrealistic, and slightly disjointed the upcoming chapters will be. I've written chapter five as if the previous chapters were written correctly, so if you notice any inconsistencies (specifically with Charlotte's contract? That was wack, but I'm gonna fix it, I swear) then I assure you, it was most likely intentional.

Thank you for being patient with me, and I sure do hope you enjoy the story.

- Merrick

Chapter 1

There was so much blood. More blood than he ever seen in his entire life. It pooled around the small body of his brother, who lay motionless on the ground. The initial shock subsided and his mind caught up with the events. He screamed, _"Mom!"_ He scrambled back towards the house, he spotted his Mom and Dad exit, panicked. He met them halfway.

 

"Dayton, what is it? Where's Dakota?"

 

He couldn't speak. He collapsed, falling to his knees.

 

"Dayton!" They yelled, "Dayton, Dayton wake-

 

"-up!"

 

Someone tipped his chair back and he jerked awake, gripping wildly for the counter in front of him so he wouldn't fall. "I-I'm up!" He stammered quickly. He looked up. Staring down at him was Sarah, her lips pulled down in a frown across her pale face.

 

"You should get to sleep earlier so you're not dozing off at work." She said, pushing her brown curls from her face.

 

Dayton avoided looking at her, rubbing the back of his neck. "Sorry."

 

She leaned against the counter, smiling sympathetically. "You're just lucky I'm the one that always finds you, instead of Kaitlin."

 

Dayton could agree with that. Kaitlin- there boss, an older woman -would kick him to the curb before he could blink if she ever caught him sleeping. Despite being blind, Kaitlin was eerily aware of all of her surroundings.He worked in a small rune shop with a dark atmosphere, which also sold things like incense, potions, spell books and other items associated with magic and religion. While working there it didn't pay much, it was something and he needed it badly.

 

Sarah's hand on his arm brought him out of his thoughts and he looked at her again. "Are you doing okay?" She asked.

 

He wasn't okay, not nearly. He didn't even remember what being okay felt like. "I'm fine." He answered, mustering up the most convincing smile he could.

 

She seemed to buy it, returning the smile. "If you're sure. If you ever need anything, I'm here for you, okay?"

 

He nodded. "Thanks, I'll make sure to keep that in mind."

 

Sarah reached up to fix the collar of his uniform and pat his shoulder once. "I'm heading home, so you're closing today." She said. He acknowledged her with another nod. "Don't fall asleep again, I won't be here to save you this time." She added playfully, walking into the back room with a wave over her shoulder.

 

When she was out of eyesight, Dayton let his smile drop. He sighed, leaning back in his chair and running a hand down his face. The ambiance of the store didn't help his mood. If anything, it made everything so much worse... He sighed, he could leave in about an hour. Then he could go to an apartment that, if he were honest with himself, wasn't much better.

 

* * *

 

By the time Dayton got off work, the sun was setting and the streets were quiet. He hated closing. The shop wasn't in a great part of the neighborhood, and walking home filled him with anxiety every step of the way. He doubted he'd ever actually get jumped or mugged or anything, but his imagination drove him wild. He didn't have much time left before the sun set completely and he'd be stuck in the dark.

 

He locked the door to the rune shop and stuffed the key into his pocket, making his way down the sidewalk in the direction of his apartment. It wasn't a great place; rundown, the streetlamps around it didn't even work, it was literally falling apart. But it was the only play Dayton could afford, currently. So he sucked it up and kept going.

 

As he went, he stopped briefly to stare up at the towering walls that surrounded the city. He liked to admire them, he wasn't sure why. They were an easy four stories high, built from smooth stone to prevent anyone from climbing them- from either side. They'd been built after the fall. The fall... he still remembered everything that had happened during that time. It had been a string of catastrophic events that destroyed almost everything. The little survivors that it left... well, they lived in Riverhollow. As far as Dayton knew, there were no more survivors that were still sane.

 

The walls were to prevent the lunatics from getting in, and to protect the civil from going out. Dayton didn't know what it looked like out there now, but it was said to be a wasteland which everyone referred to as the broken cities. You'd think he'd feel safer having them up, but they did little to make him feel protected.

 

He kept going; it was getting darker and darker by the moment. A shiver ran down his spine as he passed through an exceptionally dark stretch of the sidewalk where the streetlamps has shot out. Predictably, his heartbeat quickened along with his pace. The thought of someone sneaking up behind him and stabbing him in the back played through his head. He could almost feel it happening already. He looked from side to side, telling himself to calm down. When he spotted the figure across the street, though, that didn't help matters.

 

He didn't take the time to look harder, instead he took off at a run. Why did he have to live in such a fucking shady part of town? He didn't stop until he reached the apartment complex. He looked behind him. He doubted whoever that person was would have followed him, they were probably just walking home or something themselves. He looked nonetheless, to ease his raging paranoia; no one was there, as expected. He stood there for a moment, catching his breath, before beginning the trek up the creaking staircase to his apartment.

 

The rusted 107 on Dayton's door was missing- again -and an envelope was slipped halfway under the door. He bent down and picked it up, looking at it as he opened the door and walked inside.

 

On the front of the envelope, in handwriting that was barely comprehensible, it read, 'To the freeloader in Apt. 107' He stifled an exasperated groan, ripping it open a pulling out the orange slip that was inside.

 

'7 Day Notice For PaymentDayton A. Wilson and any other OccupantsTake NOTICE that unless payment is received in SEVEN DAYS, otherwise you must vacate the premises.Payment must be full and be by cash, cashier's check or money order.'

 

The note went on, explaining how to pay. Scrawled at the bottom, in the same messy handwriting that was on the front of the envelope, it said, 'Pay up or get out!'

 

Dayton sat on his bed, running a hand through his hair. The total came out to over three hundred dollars, money he didn't have and wouldn't have any time soon. He tossed it onto the end table next to the bed and it landed on top of all the other bills that had slowly accumulated there. He kicked his shoes off and pulling his shirt over his head. He threw the shirt to the floor before laying down. He was fucked.

Chapter 2

In the morning, Dayton found it hard to open his eyes. The battle for consciousness was a difficult one, considering he'd hoped he wouldn't wake up in the first place. He got out of the bed begrudgingly and wasn't up more than five minutes before wishing he could just go back to sleep. He went into the bathroom, splashing cold water on his face in an attempt to wake himself up. What time was it? He glanced at his watch- he had time to get ready; visiting hours wouldn't start for another thirty minutes.

 

He took a cold shower, due to the fact the hot water shut off right after he'd got in. He pulled on a pair of jeans and the shirt from yesterday and left the apartment. He did his best to be quiet as he descended the stairs. He didn't need to have any encounter with his landlord, Grady. If the eviction notice from the last night was anything to go by, Grady wasn't happy that he was nearly a month late with his payment.

 

Dayton came to the end of the stairs, the exit was in plain view and he figured he was home free. He froze as Grady came into view. Fortunately, the man didn't notice him. Grady was older than Dayton by roughly fifteen years, his hairline had receded and grayed and it would probably do him good to skip dessert every once in awhile. For the most part, Grady was pretty decent personality-wise. 'Unless you're like me,' Dayton thought; taking up space and not having the money to pay for it. Dayton couldn't say he necessarily blamed Grady for having a sour attitude toward him.

 

Grady rifled through some papers at the front desk then left, disappearing behind a corner. Dayton felt a pang of guilt in his chest for avoiding the man, but he didn't need- nor did he particularly care to have -any confrontation with him. He made a break for the door before Grady could come back.

 

* * *

 

Dayton walked through the doors of the hospital, going straight to the receptionists desk and signing in.

 

"Mr. Wilson." The girl sitting at the desk greeted with a bright smile. She reminded him of Sarah, somewhat. With the curly brown hair and the pale complexion.

 

"Anne." He acknowledged and smiled back. However, his was a lot less vibrant. He hoped it wasn't obvious that it was forced. Setting the pen down, he ventured off down the white hallway. He'd memorized each of the abstract paintings on the walls and recognized almost all the faces. He wasn't sure whether to be fascinated by this, or disappointed that he visited this hellhole far too often.

 

The door was open when Dayton arrived at it. Inside, he could see his brother, laying as motionless as ever on the bed. Standing over him and looking at a clipboard was Dr. Kwoski. Dr. Kwoski was young and attractive, light brown hair and soft, peach skin. He was thin, and shorter than Dayton by about half a foot at somewhere around five foot seven inches, Dayton would estimate.

 

He knocked once on the door as he entered, "Afternoon, Dr. Kwoski." He figured that since he'd known the doctor for such a long while, he'd at least know his first name. But Dayton supposed Kwoski was a 'strictly business' sort of man and knowing his first name wasn't particularly necessary, and Dayton didn't feel comfortable crossing any possible boundaries that might have been set there, so he left it alone.

 

Dr. Kwoski looked up, "Dayton." He greeted solemnly. "His brain activity is deteriorating." He stated curtly.

 

Dayton's brows furrowed and he walked to the side of the bed. Though handsome, Kwoski was a bit of an asshole. Or rather, he had the information and- good or bad -he wasn't afraid to bash it in your face as if it were a brick. Which was close to how Dayton felt at this moment. He knew where this was going; conversations between he and Kwoski always went down that road.

 

"You're just dragging things on, Dayton." Kwoski said. "If I were you-"

 

"Well you're not me." Dayton snapped. "You're the doctor, you're supposed to keep people alive, not encourage their deaths."

 

Kwoski's lips pulled into a tight frown. "Let me know if you change your mind." He hung the clipboard on the hook at the end of the bed and left the room.

 

Dayton fell back into the seat beside the bed, rubbing his face with his hands as he groaned loudly, "You're killing me, Dakota." His hands dropped and he stared at the unconscious boy in the bed. "I'm going to get evicted, by the way." He chuckled bitterly, "I blame you."

 

A reply would have been nice, but he knew that wasn't going to happen. He imagined his younger brother rolling his eyes and saying something sarcastic like, "Yeah, it's definitely my fault you can't find a better job."

 

He scoffed in response to the imaginary response. "If I didn't have to pay your damn hospital bills, I wouldn't be in this mess."

 

No comeback to that.

 

Dayton breathed in and let out a shuddering breath. "I miss you."

 

"Of course you do." Would be Dakota's response, the narcissistic bastard.

 

He rested his head against the bed, "I'm so sorry."

 

"You say that every time you come to visit."

 

Dayton closed his eyes, "I know. It never feels like enough, though. It probably never will be."

 

The memory of Dakota's body, still eleven years old, laying in that pool of crimson came to the front of his mind, vivid and terrifying, as if it hadn't happened eight years ago. He had done that to his own brother. Everyone insisted it had just been an accident., everyone said everything would be fine. But his parents looked at him differently after that day; they looked at him like he were a murderer. If he thought about it, they were right. Everything was far from being fine.

 

He grabbed Dakota's hand as he sobbed, "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry."

 

* * *

 

"-and we took a romantic walk in the moonlight before he took me home."

 

Sarah was in the middle of telling Dayton a long and sappy tale about her date the evening before. He found it hard to concentrate, for the simple fact he really didn't care. But he humored her and did his best not to fall asleep as she spoke. He wondered if he could add 'sleeping at inappropriate times' as a special skill on his résumé.

 

Sarah leaned on the counter, staring expectantly at Dayton. "Doesn't that sound nice?" She asked.

 

He rose an eyebrow. Why was she asking him? "It's not my kind of thing, but if you enjoyed yourself, that's all that matters."

 

The girl beamed at that, quickly followed by a look of disappointment. "Not your kind of thing?" She inquired, "Then what's your dream date?"

 

Was that important, he wondered. But, not that he was being asked the question, he honestly wasn't sure. "I don't have time to be thinking about things like that."

 

From the look on her face, she obviously wasn't satisfied with this answer, and opened her mouth to no doubt pry further. Luckily, he was saved by the loud crash coming from the back room. "SARAH!" Kaitlin could be heard. "SARAH COME BACK HERE!" The old woman shrieked.

 

The brunette whined under her breath, shoulders sagging ever so slightly as she made her way into the back.

 

Dayton watched her, smirking an amusement. The sound of the front door opening took away his attention. He looked; in the doorway was a young woman, no more than twenty five. Her blonde hair was braided and fell over her shoulder, she wore a black dress that clung to her slender body and a purse was tucked under her arm. She made a beeline for him.

 

"Fortunate that I've caught you alone." She murmured.

 

He blinked, "What?"

 

She set a large envelope on the counter. "I'm going to be frank with you, Dayton." She started. He moved to say something but she cut him off, "I have the means necessary to keep your brother alive."

 

He went rigid. "E-excuse me?"

 

She pushed the envelope towards him, "In here is a contract. Sign in, and I'll help you." Before he could get another word in, she turned and left.

 

He stared, dumbstruck. His eyes trailed down to the envelope. "What the hell?"

Chapter 3

Dayton got off work early so the walk home wasn't as perilous. He spent the entirety staring down at the envelope in his hands. Part of him just assumed the lady was pulling some cruel prank on him, and that whatever was inside was just going to be something to mock him for being so gullible. The other part of him hoped it was true. Hell, he'd sign all the contracts in the world if that meant Dakota would get better.

 

It seemed rather far fetched, however. It seemed too easy. Just sign a contract and then... what? Dakota was just going to magically wake up? He'd spent eight years in his coma- in that damn hospital -and no one could do much of anything. What power would a stranger like that woman have to bring him back.

 

He sighed, tucking it under his arm as he walked through the entrance of the apartment building; he'd figure out what he was going to do with it later. He went for the stairs but didn't even reach the first step when someone grabbed his arm and jerked him back, turning him around. He looked down and wasn't surprised to see Grady, fuming.

 

"Look here you little leech!" The man roared, face flushed in anger. He jabbed Dayton in the chest, "Don't think that eviction notice was a joke. Don't come whinin' to me sayin' shit like 'Oh I almost have the money'." His imitation of Dayton was whiny and high pitched, "If I don't get the money by the end of this week, I'm haulin' your ass right on out of here."

 

Dayton knew the man would be annoyed, but this had far exceeded what he'd been preparing himself for. He wondered if he should have predicted this reaction? Either way, he nodded in response to Grady's rant. "Yes, sir, I understand."

 

Grady's forehead creased as he narrowed his eyes at Dayton. "You better." He grumbled, turning and storming off.

 

Dayton stood there for a moment longer. He exhaled, muscles he hadn't known were tense relaxing when Grady was gone. He glanced down at the envelope and sighed, walking up the stairs, "Wouldn't it be nice if you could mystically pay all my bills, too?" He said under his breath.

 

He pulled his shoes off when he walked into the apartment and tossed them away. He went into the small excuse for a kitchen and opened the fridge. A couple of bottles of water and a wrapped sandwich from earlier in the week was all that was inside. Knocking his head against the fridge door, he grumbled. He grabbed the sandwich and made his way to his bed where he sat and dropped the envelope down.

 

He might as well just open it, he thought as he unwrapped his dinner. If it was a prank, then he'd just throw it out. But if it wasn't... if somehow, this could actually help him... Well he didn't want to pass up that chance, however slim the possibility seemed. Holding the sandwich between his teeth to free both hands, he opened the large envelope, pulling out the contents. The first thing that he saw was the card that fell into his lap. He picked it up, looking it over. Scrawled across it was a phone number, underneath it was written, 'If you decide to sign, call me.'

 

He shoved the card into his pocket for future use- if he would ever actually need to use it, of course -and picked up the papers and looked at those next. Like the woman had said, it appeared to be a contract.

 

'This is a contract made between Charlotte K. Lawson and Dayton A. Wilson in concern of Dakota E. Wilson's physical well-being.'

 

Dayton took the sandwich from his mouth, "Charlotte." He said over a bite of food. He frowned at the use of his and Dakota's full names, but at least he wasn't at a disadvantage; he knew her full name now as well. He skimmed through the following paragraphs,

 

'This medication, while still in its experimental stages, is said to have an effect similar to the Fountain of Youth.'

 

He scoffed at that, turning the page and taking another bite of his sandwich. He had to admit, he was disappointed. This was a prank after all. Someone must have went through a lot of trouble to be a huge dick.

 

'In order to receive the medication, Dayton A. Wilson would need to be willing to sign this contract, ultimately signing his services and completely obedience over to Charlotte K. Lawson for the remaining of his life or until she broke the contract.However, failure to follow Charlotte K. Lawson's orders and disobedience after signing is punished- and legally justified -with the termination of both Dayton A. Wilson and Dakota E. Wilson.'

 

He rose an eyebrow at that. "Who the hell thought I would actually fall for this shit?" He asked out loud, dropping the contract to the floor. He finished the sandwich and laid down in the bed. What a waste of time...

 

He didn't quite remember actually falling asleep, but he woke to loud banging at his door. He was slow to get out of bed and trudge his way to the door, opening it without a second thought as he rubbed sleep from his eyes. A phone was shoved in his face before he could get a word out.

 

It was Grady holding the phone. He didn't look angry like he had during their previous encounter. Instead, his expression was more... doleful. "It's the hospital."

 

* * *

 

Dayton's lungs burned as he burst into the hospital, all but collapsing against the receptionists desk. Anne was there again, looking at him with that same mournful look that Grady had had. "He's fine." Dayton said. It came out as more of a demand than anything else. Dakota had to be fine.

 

Anne didn't answer, but looked over Dayton's shoulder before looking down at whatever she'd been doing before.

 

Dayton turned. Dr. Kwoski stood. He looked tired and disheveled, "We lost him for a almost two minutes." The doctor informed. He made his way down the hallway, motioning for Dayton to follow; he did, wordlessly.

 

A massive sense of relief washed over him, but the adrenaline still lingered. He could feel himself shaking and he couldn't make himself stop.

 

"Like I told you before," Kwoski began as they came to a stop beside Dakota's room, a nurse was tending to him. "You're dragging things on. A coma lasting this long, there's very little chance he'll ever wake up."

 

Dayton refused to look at Kwoski, instead keeping his eyes locked on his brother. He knew Kwoski was right, some part of him did, anyway. Most of him wanted to punch the doctor in the face, scream at him and order him to fix Dakota; to make everything better. Of course he knew that was irrational and wouldn't do any good. But God, he wished it would. "Give me until the end of the week." He said quietly. His eyes stung as he felt the prick of tears, daring to come out.

 

Kwoski put a hand on his shoulder, "It's for the best." He assured, but it did little to make Dayton feel better. Kwoski left, and the nurse soon after.

 

He stepped into the room and over to the bed, looking at Dakota. "Asshole." He said, having difficulty getting just that out without his voice cracking. "I'm too young to be having a heart attack, so quit scaring me like that." He added, petting the dusty blonde hair atop Dakota's head.

 

"I'm the asshole?"

 

Dayton wondered if having imaginary conversations with his comatose brother was mentally unhealthy. Though he banished the thought quickly. The conversations made him feel better so it couldn't be that bad.

 

"You're the one that's going to let me die." Dakota continued.

 

Dayton grimaced, "It's for the best." He said, mimicking Kwoski from just minutes before. He thought maybe saying it out loud would convince him of that, but it really didn't. It felt like he was lying.

 

Dakota didn't respond and they sat the rest of their time together in silence.

Chapter 4

Dayton was dreaming, he knew that. Though simultaneously, he didn't. It was that weird dream logic that he could never quite explain. He wasn't himself, either. At least, not him in the present. He was himself when he had been younger- ten years old to be exact. The scene was familiar, though different from the original in some aspects; he stood in the grassy field behind his old house, next to the large pond that he remembered playing in often during the heat of the summer.

 

"Dayton!" Someone squealed, running passed him and jumping into the pond and splashing in. Dakota, at this point being seven years old, emerged from the water, waving his hands. "C'mon!"

 

Dayton smiled and dove in after him.

 

Someone shook Dayton's shoulder, waking him from a restless sleep. His body ached from the position he'd been holding while sleeping in the chair beside Dakota's bed. He looked up,

 

"You need to go home." It was Dr. Kwoski, unsurprisingly. He looked clean and refreshed, opposed to his worn appearance from before. He must have went home sometimes while dayton had been out. "Visiting hours are almost up."

 

Dayton stood, rubbing his eyes, "Yeah, yeah, alright." He muttered tiredly. It was dark outside the room's window and Dayton grounded internally, loathing the inevitable walk homje in the dreaded darkness. He pet Dakota's head one last time before walking out, Dr. Kwoski following after him.

 

The doctor escorted him to the front lobby, putting a hand on his shoulder to keep him from going out just yet, "Next time you come in I'll have some papers for you to sign." Dayton must have looked confused, because Kwoski said next, "Papers about Dakota."

 

Dayton scowled at that. The insensitivity of the comment made the urge to punch Kwoski in the face all that more unbearable. He clenched his fists, taking a deep breath to calm himself. "Goodnight, Dr. Kwoski." He said and walked out.The walk home was no less nerve wracking than any other time he'd walked home alone in the dark, but uneventful otherwise. It was dead in the lobby of the apartment building and Dayton journeyed up the stairs and to his apartment without disturbance. He would have eaten, but due to the fact he no longer had any food in his fridge, he just went to sleep, ignoring his roaring stomach and the awful pain in his head from lack of sustenance.

 

* * *

 

He really wasn't feeling up to work but here he was, detesting every godforsaken moment of it. He wasn't really in the mood to talk to anyone either, but ever since he'd come in, Sarah had yet to stop trying to initiate a conversation with him. And, if he were honest with himself, sleeping was the only activity that seemed appealing at that moment.

 

He was seated at his usual spot behind the counter, arms folded on he surface and his head resting on his hands. Sarah was rambling about something that he didn't even try to listen to. He was tempted to just fall asleep again, but she probably wouldn't allow him to do that. He could only imagine she'd slap him if he shut his eyes for too long, for the fact he wasn't listening to her rather than the fact he was sleeping.

 

Sarah laid her chin on the counter, their noses almost touching as she looked at him. "You seem down," She said, "more so than usual." This was approximately the fifth time she'd pointed that out to him. "What's the matter? Did something happen?"

 

Dayton twitched, "It's really none of your business, so just stay out of it." He didn't want to snap at her, and it had come out a lot more hostile than he'd intended. There was no taking it back now that it had already left his mouth. He watched as as a pained look crossed Sara's features briefly.

 

She covered it with a look of indifference as she stood up, straightening her back, "Fine." She retorted.

 

Dayton sighed, trying to contain his annoyance. Sarah was a sweet girl, but she was a little too much for him at times. "Look, I'm sorry, it's just-"

 

"No." Sarah cut him off, "It's none of my business." She said indignantly, walking down one of the aisles and out of view.

 

He put his face in his hands and groaned. This week just kept getting better and better...

 

The door opened and stepping inside was Charlotte. She was dressed in a gray dress suit this time. She scanned the store until her eyes fell on Dayton. Once she spotted him, she came toward him in quick strides, her pointed shoes clacking against the wooden floor of the shop.

 

'Deja vu.' Dayton thought, bemused as he recognized the familiar setting from just the other day.

 

"Have you read it?" The blonde women asked as she came to the counter.

 

"Yeah, it was real funny," Dayton replied flatly, "and a real waste of me time. Thanks for that." He added, the sarcasm thick in his tone.

 

Charlotte looked shocked for a moment before frowning, "You think it's a joke, don't you?"

 

"Why wouldn't I think it was a joke?" He said bitterly. He rubbed his eyes and sighed, "If you're not going to buy something, you need to leave." He hadn't felt like talking to Sarah, he felt even less like talking to someone who'd decided to make a joke out of his brother's coma.

 

Her eyes narrowed, "You need to take this seriously!" She hissed, leaning forward on the counter.

 

"Take what seriously?" Both of their head whipped to the side to look at Sarah who stood close by, watching them curiously, like a small child catching her parents arguing. Dayton paused his thought track- that was a weird comparison, he reasoned. He shook it off and focused on the matter at hand.When neither of them answered her, her face twisted into a mix of disappointment and annoyance. "Right, none of my business." She muttered, walking away again, this time going into the back room.

 

Charlotte eyed the door Sarah had left through. "We can't talk here." She stated after a long moment of silence. "When your shift ends, we can talk elsewhere."

 

"And what make you think I'd want to talk to you?" Dayton asked, scowling at her.

 

"Because your brother is dying." She said curtly.

 

That took him off guard, though he wasn't sure why. She had written that sick joke of a contract, so it shouldn't have been shocking for her to pull the brother card out on him.

 

"And if he's gone, what're you going to do?" She continued in a quiet voice, "Your only purpose is taking care of him, isn't it? Once that's taken away, you'll have nothing; you are nothing."

 

His chest clenched and he balled his hands into fists. "Leave." He said through gritted teeth.

 

She huffed, crossing her arms. "I'll give you a day or two, then we'll talk." She said definitively and turned on her heel, walking out of the store.

 

Dayton put his hands on the counter, leaning heavily upon it as he let out a breath.

 

The words plagued his mind the entire walk home. He denied them with little conviction, because part of him knew she was right. Ever since their Mother left and their Father died, it was just him and Dakota. He had an obligation to take care of his little brother; after all, he had been the one to get him into the entire ordeal. If Dakota was gone... then that would mean he'd failed. He really had killed his brother.

 

The memory felt like a stab in the chest.

 

He went into the lobby where he found Grady at the desk, sorting through papers. The older man looked at him, a soft look on his face. That was the look of pity, Dayton knew that look well. He turned away and went up the stairs. He couldn't stand to be looked at like that. He glanced at a clock hanging on the wall in the hallway; 9:47pm. He had officially gone more than twenty four hours without eating and by the time he stepped through the door of his apartment, he was beginning to feel dizzy and walking in a straight line was proving of great difficulty. He took a bottle of water from the fridge and made his way to his bedroom, occasionally stopping to lean against something and focus his vision. It was a harder job that necessary to get all the way there.

 

Something crinkled under the weight of his foot and he looked down; it was that stupid contract again. With a roll of his eyes, he kicked the stapled papers aside and flopped into the bed, squirming out of his t-shirt and throwing it to the floor.

 

But the raging hunger in his stomach and the aggravated thoughts of everything Charlotte said kept him awake. He twitched and ached to do something, anything but sleep. He grumbled incoherently, rolling over and leaning half of his body off of the bed to reach for the contract. Once he grabbed it, he sat up in bed and read it over and over.

 

"He's going to die anyway." Dayton mumbled, flipping back and forth through the pages. Unless Dakota woke up before the end of the week, he was going to get the plug pulled and then he'd be gone. And the chances of him waking up were slim. The thought made Dayton's stomach turn. As he sat there, what if's swarmed his head. Namely, what if this contract wasn't a prank? Who was to say there couldn't be some miracle working medicine out there? He wanted to believe it, but his rational side was calling bullshit.

 

Dayton side, laying on his side as he read the contract for the hundredth time. "What are the pros and cons, here?" He asked himself aloud. "If I sign it and it's a prank, then I'll just look like an idiot and then we can move on." He reasoned, flipping the page, "If I sign it and it's not a prank, then there's a possibility that Dakota will live." He reread one of the paragraphs.

 

'In order to receive the medication, Dayton A. Wilson would need to be willing to sign this contract, ultimately signing his services and completely obedience over to Charlotte K. Lawson for the remaining of his life or until she broke the contract.'

 

The words on the page were beginning to blur out, the effects of sleepiness finally hitting him. He yawned, dropping the contract next to him as he closed his eyes. He couldn't believe he was actually considering this.

 

When he woke up again, light pooled in through his window. Someone was banging on his door again. He hoped this wouldn't become a common occurrence. He dragged himself out of the bed and went to the door, pulling it open. 'Deja vu.' He thought, and proceeded to feel even more deja vu, due to the fact he was experiencing deja vu for the second time in less than twenty four hours. His brain hurt.

 

"Get yourself a damn phone." It was Grady again, holding up his phone to Dayton. "I don't need these hospital wanks calling me in the wee hours of the morning every other day."

 

"If I had any money, it'd be going to you." Dayton grumbled, taking the phone away from Grady and putting it against his ear. "Hello?" He yawned. "This is Dayton."

 

"This is Dr. Kwoski." His tone was urgent, "Dakota flat lined again."

 

By the time he got there, they'd already been able to revive Dakota, much to Dayton's relief. He sat next to his brother's bed, holding his hand and tracing the lines across his palm. He talked about frivolous topics, like the weirdos that came into the rune shop or the weather. "You're the only one I can talk to." He mentioned.

 

Dakota didn't answer.

 

"Charlotte's right, you know?"

 

"We both already knew that."

 

Dayton scoffed, rubbing his tired eyes. If he kept going like this, he'd probably die soon after Dakota did...

 

"I don't have to die..."

 

"The contract's probably fake."

 

"It's worth a shot. Like you said, I'm going to die anyway."

 

Dayton looked up at him. Dakota was practically lifeless, his face was paler than Dayton had seen it in a long time, and his chest was barely moving. The only indication that he hadn't died again was the repetitive beeping of his heart monitor. He swore he was going insane. "So you think I should do it?"

 

Dakota was silent.

 

He got up and left the room in search for a phone he could use. He dug Charlotte's card out of his pocket. It rung three times before she picked up, "I'm in."

Chapter 5

Dayton was desperate, but he wasn’t stupid. “Could you say that again, please?” He asked, not trying to disguise how incredulous he was. “I would be doing what?”

 

“Basically, you’d be my gofer. When I need things done, you’ll be there, my jack of all trades.” Charlotte explained.

 

He squinted. “And that’s supposed to pay my hospital bills?” A lot of things had changed since the Fall, but one thing stayed consistent; hospital services costed an arm and a leg (or in Dayton’s case, an apartment and his sanity). “I’m about to get evicted, but running your errands is supposed to cover all that too, I’m assuming?”

 

Charlotte sighed. For a moment, he felt bad for allowing his skepticism to come out so scathing, but he was promised help. He felt like an idiot putting faith in this scam, but—

 

“Do you want to help your brother or not?” She asked. “I’m willing to provide you with new living arrangements, and free treatment for your brother.” She said, “We both have something to gain from this; you need help, and I need an errand boy.”

 

There was a long silence as he stared at the paper and pen in front of him. He felt as though he had been cornered. She was right. He needed something, and he had nothing to lose. The worst case scenario would be that she didn’t provide everything that was promised, but he’d have two jobs which would still be better than the one he had. And the best case scenario was that all his problems would be solved…

 

He signed the paper.

 

He wasn’t sure what he expected to happen the moment his signature was written across the bottom line on Charlotte’s contract. Maybe a tingling sensation as he was controlled by a curse. Charlotte definitely had a witch’s atmosphere about her. But nothing happened, she simply took the contract back and placed it delicately back into the folder.

 

“That’s a year’s lease.” She said, putting the folder into the drawer of her desk and standing. “If you have time, we can go downstairs so I can introduce you to the rest of the staff?”

 

Dayton got to his feet. “I don’t have anywhere to be.”

 

She led him out of her office, her heels clicking loudly against the steps as they walked down the stairs. “There are only a couple here today, you’ll meet the rest when you come in for your first day.” She explained. “You’ll start tomorrow, if that works. I want to help your brother as soon as possible.”

 

Dayton hummed in acknowledgement. He was still skeptical about her promise to treat his brother. Dr. Kwoski was said to be the best in his field. The hospital had used that to comfort and reassure Dayton the first day Dakota had been admitted, but Dayton’s expectations were never met. Logically, he knew it was wishful thinking to think Dakota would ever wake up, but he supposed if he didn’t have a little hope he wouldn’t be here with Charlotte.

 

At the end of the staircase was a wide open lobby. It was sparsely decorated, only a couple of couches, chairs and an end table or two, and the high ceiling made it feel larger than it really was. There was a set of metal stairs leading up to a balcony that looked over the space, a door or two that lead to what looked like a couple of offices.

 

Charlotte pointed to one of them, “That’s where you’ll be working. Everyone else will come and go to different departments in the building, but this is the common area.”

 

On one of the couches, a man sat leaning over several papers spread out neatly across the table in front of him. The first thing Dayton noticed was how formerly dressed he was; dress shirt and pants, with a vest and tie— he was definitely wealthy. He lifted his head to look at them as they approached.

 

“This is Andrew Coltan.” Charlotte introduced. “Andrew, this is the new team leader, Dayton Wilson.”

 

Dayton held his hand out to the other man, but was not met with the same gesture. Instead, Andrew looked him over. His eyes were cold, almost lost looking. It made the hair on Dayton’s neck raise— he let his hand fall back to his side. He wanted to say something, break the proverbial ice wall this man was creating with his eyes alone, but (thankfully) someone else took the honor.

 

A younger girl stood leaning against a doorway to their right.“Oh geez, he looks like a lost puppy. Where did you find him, the pound?” Her tone was snarky, but she had an amused smile plastered on her face.

 

Charlotte sighed, “This is—”

 

“My name is Mara.” The girl interrupted, walking forward and taking a seat on the couch opposite of Andrew. Charlotte shot her an annoyed look, but Mara either ignored it or didn’t notice. “Dayton, was it? Did I hear that right?”

 

He nodded. Though slightly taken off guard by her very presence— she looked no older than fifteen so what she was doing here, he had no idea, but he decided not to question it —he was thankful someone was at least partially welcoming. He glanced back to Andrew, only to see the man wasn’t there anymore, and neither were any of his papers. A pang of guilt struck his chest but he ignored it the best he could.

 

“I’ll make sure the rest of the team are here to greet you when you come in tomorrow.” Charlotte said, gently touching his arm to lead him back up the stairs. The kept silent until they up the stairs and outside the building. “Andrew will pick you up some time in the morning to take you to your new place, so be prepared for that.”

 

Dayton stifled a frown.

 

Charlotte took something from her pocket, “Oh, and here’s something for your brother— Dakota, right?” She placed it in Dayton’s hand. It was a vile of clear liquid. “When you visit him next, put two or three drops under his tongue.”

 

Dayton turned it over in his hands, “What is it?”

 

The woman was already walking back into the building— “The solution.”

Chapter 6

Coming soon!

Impressum

Texte: Megan Glock
Tag der Veröffentlichung: 21.03.2015

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