Preface
“You have thirty seconds left to answer.” She shoved the barrel end of the handgun into my cheek. “If you can’t answer my simple riddle, Samuel, I’ll blow your head off.”
My heart slammed against my chest at supersonic speed. If I couldn’t solve the masked girl’s riddle then… Seven days until freedom. The rather simple contract only wanted me at the appointed place to answer one riddle a day. Break it and everything dies.
PART 1: Angels Deserve Death?
Chapter One:
Contract
The unrefreshing feeling of a rolled up newspaper smacking against my face woke me up.
“Don’t sleep in my class!” Mr. Fiman yelled. He returned to explaining complicated algebra equations that probably no one understood. The sound of the bell seconds later made everyone grab their things and hop out of their seats.
“Wait, wait, wait!” Mr. Fiman blocked the door. “Before you go home, think carefully about my extra credit assignment. Some of you really could use it.” He turned his glare away from me. Jackass was probably what we both were thinking at that moment. “This will bump you up by a letter grade so I’d suggest considering it.” He opened the door and walked out. Douche. I bet he actually wanted to be the first out –this class was large. Moreover, I couldn’t fight off the fact that that extra credit would yank me out of a bind. I pulled it out of my bag and silently read: Angels are legendary creatures, believed by ancients to be either carriers of death, messengers of God, good luck, or even guardians of mankind. Your assignment is to visit Ash Fire Museum and turn in a one page essay of your findings. For added points, disprove or prove rumors of actual sightings.
“What a stupid assignment,” I said softly. “Who the hell believes this stuff anyway?”
“I think it’s interesting,” a classmate, Gil, said as he walked over to my desk. “Let’s go this evening. Me, you, and a group of people.”
“I don’t know,” I said. “I kind of got things to do.”
“A trip to a museum for an easy grade. You’re going. Enough said.” He walked off. His intentions were obviously double-sided like usual. Annoying playboy. Can’t risk my grade with his group. I packed my things, walked out into the hallway, and glanced at the assignment again. Why would Mr. Fiman assign something like this? He was an angry teacher who hated everything or at least me. An assignment regarding something like angels was out of character. Let’s not forget the fact that this was a math class. The thought of this made me curious. I’d better get ready for this evening without Gil...
I started for the exit when I noticed a flyer perched in a corner, barely visible. The top of the page had a picture of a creepy eyeball. In the middle of it were the words: You Deserve to Die.
And that was it. No invitation to a stupid club. No advertisement for something outrageous. Just those words.
“Why would someone post this?” I said as I continued out the door. Not sure if the people around noticed it though.
Later that afternoon, I shut off the TV, put away my half-completed homework, and grabbed a few note-taking supplies. I ignored all of Gil’s calls and texts. I know a plan to gather girls on an extra-credit museum trip was tempting but unneeded right now. Sorry dude, you’ll have to stay pissed.
Within a half hour city bus ride, I was finally at Ash Fire and ready to knock out the assignment. Obviously the essay was the only hard part.
The inside of the museum was huge and dusty. Some of the lights continuously flickered. The air smelled muddy. Atmosphere: quite dark. How the hell was I supposed to find anything angelic here? I felt kind of bad for the employees that worked here. How do they breathe in this place every day and not die?
Anyway, I started the search at the front of the museum. Parading the place were statues, old paintings, and all kinds of crap. Same for the middle with the addition of the cliché dinosaur bones and what not. Why would an angel –if they were real –appear here? This place sucked!
“Ash Fire is a name wasted on this crap hole,” I said as I headed for the back. As expected, it was a little dark. The manager should be fired for not getting the power fixed and having the entire place professionally cleaned. That’s why I was the only current visitor.
Just then, all of the lights shut off and then lit seconds later brightly. In the corner ten feet ahead, I saw a paper. I walked over to inspect it.
“What the hell…” I whispered. It was the same flyer I read earlier at school. “You can’t be serious.” Soft footsteps sounded behind me but when I turned around, there was nothing. “Yeah, it’s time to go. There’s not a damn thing in this place about angels. How the hell will I write the assignment?”
Suddenly, a large screech –the same kind as scraping something against a chalkboard but way louder –caught my attention. In fact, several identical screeches followed but I saw nothing. I wasn’t tired –napped earlier, didn’t drink, drug-free –so imagination was way out of the question. All of sudden the place became silent. Not wasting another moment, I started toward the front but heard a voice.
“Don’t move another inch.”
I took off running at super full speed. I didn’t care if I was possibly caught in a prank by a vengeful Gil or whatever –I was out of there. Or so I wanted to be but the strangest thing happened. In the mid-section of the museum, a white wall blocked what was supposed to be a clear path toward the front. I noticed the same eye from the flyers painted in the center of it. At this point, I knew I was clearly targeted by someone, but why? I had no enemies, I got along with everyone I knew, and minded my own business. Those three essentials are what I believed kept people alive. Why would someone even waste their time targeting me? I was only eighteen and in high school. Not rich nor possessed any special talents. This made no sense.
I turned around to face whoever set this up. All I saw several feet ahead was a shadowy figure.
“What do you want with me?” I said to it.
“Your life,” it replied.
“Why?”
“You dare question me, you lowly insect!”
“Insect? Never mind that, I think you got the wrong guy,” I said.
“Samuel Souths.”
“Shit,” I whispered. The shadow took a few steps closer toward me. “Stay the hell back. I didn’t do a goddamned thing to deserve this.”
“Is that what you think?” the shadow said. “Okay then, I’ll test you. If you’re not a waste of mass, I’ll let you exist. But…if you mess up even once, you’re gone.” The shadow clapped twice. “You test him for a while. I have other matters to attend to.” I assumed he spoke to someone nearby. The shadowy figure –tall and slim –walked off in the other direction. Another one appeared from literally freaking nowhere and headed toward me. When in the light, it was a girl wearing a circular mask that looked as if it really had flowers growing on it.
“Samuel Souths, prepare to be tested for salvation,” she said. “But first, allow me to explain the contract in which you are bound to. Any comments?” I attempted to speak but the masked girl interrupted with, “keep them to yourself, Dead man. The conditions of your contract are as followed. Seven days under the curse you must answer one riddle per day. If you get them all correct, you’ll be set free. However, miss even one, you die.” She chuckled. “I highly doubt that you’ll even get the first riddle right, so I’m giving you the rest of the today as a gift. Be here tomorrow, same time. If you don’t show up or if you attempt to involve Man’s law, not only will you die but so will anyone else that knows you.”
“Oh, you’re so intimidating,” I snarled sarcastically. “You people are crazy! I’m –”
The unthinkable happened. She pulled a handgun out of the air (or incredibly fast from somewhere) and smashed it against my arm.
“Shit!” With the barrel pointed at my eye and intense pain flooding me, I didn’t move.
“You’re thinking about tackling me to the ground, aren’t you, insect?” She shook her head, her long blonde hair swinging annoyingly like her nonchalant attitude. “You’re way in over your head, so know your place. If you want to test or provoke me, I could call the name of a loved one to drop dead right now. Now do you really want to risk that, Samuel James Souths?” How did this person know my full name? She looked young –my age –possible student of my school? No…I didn’t know any longed-haired blonde girls. The masked girl pulled a paper from her pocket, unrolled it, and handed it to me along with a snow-white feather. “Though this isn’t needed since you’re doing this regardless, sign the contract. In modern terms, this is treated as an agreement. Or in your case, an acknowledgement that you know the rules.”
“How am I supposed to sign this with a feather?” I barked.
“Just do it,” the masked girl said. “It will write.”
Somehow and I don’t know how, but the plain feather did. No ink at the bottom of it or anything. “Now that you signed this venerated contract, you are dismissed until the appointed time tomorrow.” The white wall loudly creaked and then suddenly shimmered into flower-shaped sparkles that vanished seconds later. I turned back but the masked girl was gone, allowing me to sigh in relief. I don’t know how, but I got myself into something crazy. My already sucky life had now worsened.
ns 15.158.61.50da2
