The Offer
1970 Words
Somewhere, in the middle of the Metropolitan of Manila Philippines, a man in his early thirties with a sharp look and medium brown hair with a side-split hair cut, leaving short bangs on either side. was sitting on an exquisite sofa of the waiting area of some expensive-looking business skyscraper.
He was holding a black company card with a name called “Laban Fund.” It was the card given by one of the nurses of the Saint Lukes Hospital after admitting out of the hospital with news so depressing to hear.
The nurse states that there is this company that is giving out these cards to patients with terminal illnesses with no hope of acquiring medical attention due to the exorbitant medical fees.
His face hung down with eyes gleaming a faintest of hope, but little by little, it was being overrun by lifeless eyes that would soon consume him to a bottomless pit of anguish.
This card is the last chance to save him and his family.
Moments later, a beautiful girl donned in a well-fitted business suit.
“Sir Saludo, he’s ready for you,” she said and beckoned Saludo to come with her.
Saludo stood on his feet and followed the girl who informed him. He doesn’t know how long they’ve been walking due to this floor having a huge floor area but nonetheless, they arrived.
The two stopped at the glass door. Saludo glanced at it and figured that it was the boss’s office.
The girl gracefully opened the door for him and beckoned him to go inside. Saludo obliged and stepped inside the door.
Beyond the door was a man peering down the glass wall with a view of the picturesque city of Manila. It was nighttime and the bright colors of the cars’ headlights, light poles, buildings, and households, lit up the city vividly.
It was a majestic view of the city and for some reason, Saludo felt an urge to peer down alongside him.
But he knows his limit, there’s no way that he can enjoy the view of the city alongside possibly one of the richest men on Earth.
The man turned around and exposed his face. He is a middle-aged man with a buzzed haircut wearing a business suit. He smiled and approached him.
“Dreign Saludo! Thanks for coming by” He happily welcomed Dreign as he extended his hand, offering a handshake.
“Mr. Sanchez, thanks for seeing me.”
“My pleasure, call me Sanchez. I wish you could call me Dreign. What a cool name!” He chortled and patted his back. “Please have a seat.”
Dreign let out a stiff smile across his face, embarrassed of not being able to respond to his flattery as he walked towards one of the sofas and sat on it.
“Well my mother is good at naming things so…hehe” He replied shyly and looked around his office.
Pictures of a certain basketball player mounted on the wall, trophies, jersey, and basketball encaged on a mirror case were displayed around the office. Declaring that the man who resides here is a basketball fan.
Sanchez noticed his scrutinizing eyes wandering around his office and got curious. He followed Dreign’s line of sight and met his basketball collections.
“You’re a Purefoods fan?” Sanchez asked.
“Yeah,” Dreign affirmed.
“Well, I got the basketball James Yap signed ten years ago.”
“I used to have his jersey hanging in my closet.”
“Really? Is it authentic? Game worn?” Sanchez leaned forward, interested to know the answer.
“Oh yeah…” despite having one and telling Mr. Sanchez happily about it, his face drooped down, filled with a dejected expression. “I had to sell it.”
What was once a brief casual conversation quickly turned heavy.
“Yeah…well…I had a look on your medical file;...seems like money’s been tight and luck’s been bad. I’m really sorry you’re going through this, Saludo.”
While expressing his sympathy and concern to Dreign, Dreign suddenly felt a sharp wallowing pain inside his head akin to a migraine. A ringing sound similar to one being isolated in a very quiet room filled his head.
It was so painful that he had to put his hand on his temple, quelling down the pain. Sanchez noticed his other hand clenched tightly and eyes shut.
The pain still hadn’t faded away.
This worried Sanchez and asked him.
“Are you okay, Saludo?”
“I’m fine…” Dreign groaned, “it’s going away little by little, this will go away in no time. Sorry for worrying you.”
“It’s okay…I wonder, does the pain come with the territory?”
“Yeah…it usually clears up pretty quick,” Dreign answered as he fished something inside the pocket of his leather jacket. It was a small container containing swallow pills. He took one and gulped it. “Sorry for showing it to you…” Dreign said apologetically.
Their conversation stopped momentarily and then started again.
“Uhm…, look, Sanchez, I think you know my story. If I just had some cash, I could maybe get some treatment to buy me more time, and uh…maybe see my son be born.”
Hearing his depressing story, Sanchez stood up and pat Dreign’s shoulder.
“That’s the kind of conversation that requires alcohol.”
Sanchez opened one scotch and poured Dreign a glass of whiskey.
“I don’t know if I should in my condition…”
“In your condition, you should drink whatever the hell you want.”
Finishing pouring the glass, Sanchez turned to his feet and gave Dreign his glass. “I assure you, this is one of the top-class scotch you could never drink in your lifetime.”
“Thank you.”
They clinked their glass and sipped its content.
“See?”
“Yeah, I’d ask where you got it, but I don’t have the money and I’ll probably be dead before I finish the bottle…”
“Oi don’t be like that…” Sanchez interjected. “Come on, don’t talk like that. Pessimism is not gonna help you or your wife. The good news is, you’re not the first person to come to the ‘Laban Fund.’ in a tough spot.”
His assuring words implied Dreign something.
“You think the loan’s possible? I have a grocery store in Quezon City, the Saludo Grocery Store.”
Sanchez returned to his seat and replied. “Well, Saludo, I really want to help you and I think I can, but I know the grocery you’re running. It’s failing and I can’t just loan the kind of money we’re talking about to someone who very likely might pass away before he can even think about paying me back.”
Dreign looked up and frowned.
Sanchez realized his mistake and fumbled his hands. “Oh…don’t misunderstand me. I know that makes me sound like a bastard…I promise I’m not…it’s just that…I lost family members to cancer. I’ve seen how unforgiving it can be. “
“No…it’s okay…I get it. So, what, you still think you can help me somehow?”
“I do.” Sanchez quickly responded and continued. “But I can’t do it alone. I need your help, your participation.”
“Participation, how?” Dreign tilted his head to the side.
“Saludo, I am what you would call a facilitator. I make possible the natural progression of man’s innate desire to be challenged.”
“Right. Well, what does this have to do with me?”
“You see, I represent a very exclusive, very wealthy clientele who pay exorbitant fees for a unique, one-of-a-kind experience in a highly intense sport, hunting. And that’s where your participation becomes integral.”
“You’d want me to hunt me?”
“Not exactly like that…you became part of the hunter. Well of you are hunters.”
“Hunters? Like I’m going to hunt someone?”
Sanchez nodded his head.
“How? Like a tag or something?”
Sanchez shook his head and gave him the right answer.
“The sport in its purest form. A hunt to kill.” He declared.
Dreign chuckled stiffly after hearing the absurd answer. “f**k me, you’re serious.”
Sanchez can see his face turning pale and continued his words.
“Now I can see in your face you want to just run out of here and you’re welcome to do so, only you’d be leaving as poor as you came. Or you can hear me out and help your family in a way that was unimaginable five minutes ago.”
“You hunt innocent humans?”
“No, we hunt desperate humans with no glimmer of hope. We provide optimism not just to people like you. For the most part, our hunters have snatched all the brass rings life can offer. We give them a challenge. They’re not going after paunchy 40-year-olds with bad knees. They battle physical specimens. We satisfy their needs to strive. Not to mention what you’d be doing for me.”
“For you?”
“I’d be helping you and your wife and your unborn child. You know, really helping a family in crisis…Look what I do for a living doesn’t provide much to feel good about myself.”
“No, I can’t imagine it does. Listen, I’m gonna go to the cops, report this…”
“Report what? You’d sound deranged, and you’d be able to prove nothing.” Sanchez smiled confidently.
“We’ll see about that.” He stood up and made his way to the exit.
Just as he was about to pull the door to leave, Sanchez said something to him.
“You could leave your family millions.”
Dreign stopped in his tracks as an unimaginable number entered his ears.
Sanchez took Dreign’s stopping tracks as him being interested in the deal.
“Dreign Saludo,” Sanchez called. “How many times since your diagnosis have you told yourself you’d do anything to make sure your family’s secure after you’re gone? Well, this is your chance to ‘do anything.’”
Dreign looked at his face, scrutinizing whether he was lying or not.
“If you want to hear more, I’ll be finishing my drink on the balcony.”
As Sanchez makes his way to the balcony, Dreign was having a second thought.
A million of money that could possibly change his family’s life. He’d grabbed it with both hands. But he knew to himself that a game involving millions of money is something that he’ll get doing illegally. A hunt to kill, who would he kill? Some innocent hopeless humans like him? He doesn’t know. This piqued his interest and wanted to hear more about the game.
If he judged it to be illegal the way he imagined it, he would reject the offer and proudly leave this establishment knowing that he won’t participate in a game that can possibly destroy the lives of his family. But the prize…it’s tempting.
He is desperate, he doesn’t know how long he will live in this world. Albeit illegal, this is his chance to save his family and secure their future before departing from this world.
Dreign decided and follow Sanchez to the balcony where he was gazing down the busy streets of Manila.
Dreign stopped as he got to Sanchez’s side and gave him a look of “I want to know more.”
Sanchez sipped his drink and spoke. “In my experience, it’s best if I talk for a while and you’d listen with an open mind. Can you do that for me, Saludo?”
Dreign uneasily nodded.
Sanchez clicked his tongue. “So, this is how you’ll hunt.”
- Writer
