The Contract

Chapter 6 - Confirmation

I could feel my mind drifting off to sleep as the microeconomics lecturer droned on about demand and supply diagrams, further emphasizing the importance of opportunity cost in our everyday lives. This lecture felt very, very familiar - I felt as though I had been through the entirety of this class, as I recognized the concepts that the lecturer introduced to the class. This was a new course I decided to take up for my new semester - I didn't recall learning about these economic terms before in high school, or even my first term in college, but I knew and understood what the lecturer was talking about. Relearning something that I had a clear grasp and comprehension of was rather uninteresting to me, so I couldn't help it when my eyes decided to glaze over.

"Can someone tell me the difference between substitute and complementary goods? I won't take 'I don't know' for an answer." The lecturer, a guy with dyed red hair and sunglasses in front talking to the masses of students - including myself - had an easygoing expression set on his face and a charismatic smile that made the students in the first row swoon - all girls coincidentally.

A sharp, yet subtle nudge to my side made me sit up straight impulsively as I looked right in the eyes of the assailant who had so callously ribbed me - Melia. Her face was so concerned for someone who was practically a stranger to her; I found that expression very amusing and cute, but I couldn't shake off the ominous sensation that stemmed in my stomach when she was near me. Sure, she may have provided relief for the heavy headache I had about half an hour ago, but the way she looked at my left pocket made me nervous - the pocket that contained my father's precious emerald talisman.

"I get that it's the first day of class and that it's the start of a new semester, Brad, but I really don't think you should be zoning out in class like that. Did you have an adequate amount of rest last night?" She asked.

"Sorry, I'm just a little tired." I replied lethargically.

I didn't want to talk about it; I really didn't, because my thoughts resembled canned food right now - packed tightly in the tin that was my brain. Besides, I had plenty of questions of my own - like who exactly was Melia, and what was the significance of the emerald amulet that was currently residing in my pocket? I knew it was something that my father treasured, but after my migraine subsided, I started to recall back a small bit of the surrealistic nightmare that plagued me in my sleep from last night till this morning.

There had been a translucent man behaving rather peculiar whilst conversing rapidly with my father in a discussion that involved the green piece of jewelry that currently resided with me. I could remember what they were talking about; my father had proposed a deal with the man that wasn't quite human, Adro - a trade that would patch up my messed up legs and would cost my father the traditional amulet that had been passed down from generation to generation. The pellucid man looked almost exactly like the creepy driver whom I had encountered earlier this morning, except instead of being dressed formally from head to toe, he had worn a sleeveless shirt and shorts that completely highlighted the various warts and tattoos that covered his entire body.

Apart from that small nugget of information, I couldn't really summon up the entire recollection of the nightmare I had. Some part of my conscience wanted to try and force out all possible information regarding the strange sliver of information that had unexpectedly arisen, but the other side of my mind wanted to reject the notion that this was even real. I wasn't paying a single shred of attention toward the lecture, and was instead looking down at the table blankly as the droning of the class went on and on.

Someone was shaking my shoulder - once again snapping me out of the repeated trance I had these days when I delved too far deep into my thoughts. I turned to whoever had been shaking my shoulder, and sudden realization and shock came to me as this time it was not Melia; instead it was the stern lecturer who had interrupted my reverie. The lecturer stared at me eye to eye, and I took note that his eyes were blood red. Not only that, but he was wearing a fedora this whole time he was giving the lecture; hiding most of the reddish hair that garnished his head.

"Do you have a problem with my class?" The man's voice betrayed his age - he looked to be in his early thirties, somewhat young to be a lecturer - a deep bass that sounded very sage and experienced. His eyes, though crimson maroon in color, were both decisive and cold - it felt like he was seeing through the tight-lipped and calm demeanor I was wearing on right now. In fact, I started to feel anxious as the unwanted attention from the whole lecture hall turned toward me; judgmental and calculating just like the lecturer.

Snapping his fingers at me when I failed to answer quickly, he repeated his question in a much more menacing tone, emphasizing the nouns as he spoke again.

"Do you have a problem with my class?"

"No sir." I heard myself stammer.

His eyes narrowed as he pondered my reply. After about a minute of glaring rather intensely at me, he said something once more.

"You don't belong in this class."

What?

Was the question that immersed upon the surface of my thoughts.

Why?

Was the inquiry that would follow up after what. I could only stare blankly at the lecturer as he maintained the concentrated gaze directed at me, because I didn't know what to say to that statement. This lecturer had been around since I started studying at Toren, and all the other students liked him for his easygoing, carefree attitude when he taught them. So - why was he being so nasty to me on the first day of class?

"Stand up. You're coming with me to the office so you can change the course you're taking; I don't want any slackers in my class this term - that goes for everyone in this class!" The students of the class groaned in unison as I followed the man out of the class. From the corner of my eye, I noticed Melia with a squeamish expression on her face, like she was afraid of the lecturer. My fist balled up rather skittishly as I exited through the doorway.

It was very quiet in the corridors, but I suppose that was to be expected as not only was Toren a relatively small college, the students here were extremely well-behaved; you'd be hard pressed to find a crowd of rowdy young adults on campus. I followed the lecturer who had sounded me off in class, and I wondered just what exactly was his problem. What did he have against me? I was just a simple college kid who played basketball with dreams of becoming a superstar, and I never actually loafed off in class before until today.

As I followed him deeper into the corridor, I noticed that we were passing through the area where students and lecturers utilized to get work done online - the computer labs. There were no windows around here, and because no one was using the computers, the lights were all switched off. The darkness was threatening to consume both the microeconomics lecturer and I as we continued walking. I realized that we had been walking in the complete opposite direction as the college office was this whole time.

"Excuse me, sir, but you do know that we've been walking along a completely different way this whole time, right?"

The moment those words left my mouth, I instantly regretted it, because insubordination seemed like something that would trigger the man. He stopped and turned around, and I was stunned by the fact that his eyes were burning brightly in the shadows shrouding us.

"Apologies - I'm afraid I haven't got a chance to formally introduce myself, even after the few incidences we've met before." The man walked up to me and stuck out his tanned, weather beaten hand - a very familiar hand compared to the one I'd shook in a dream once. "I messed up back there with the procedure; I should've expected that your kind, being humans and mere mortals, would convince yourselves that if whatever negative things happened to you, you would simply write it off as a dream - maybe even a hallucination. Well, I'm here to tell you that what you experienced was not a dream. Your kind may recognize me as the Devil, or Satan, but when I try to blend in among your kind, it would be best if you call me by my other identity's name - Isaiah."

Shaking my head, I couldn't help but let out a weary chuckle. This didn't make sense at all - not one bit. I scanned his face to try and perceive whether or not his words were false and he was pulling my leg, but he remained tight lipped and stoic - as though he was dead serious.

"You're kidding, right?" I let loose another nervous laugh, praying internally with all my heart that what he was saying wasn't true. There was no way that this 'Isaiah' could be Satan himself, right? Come on, I mean firstly - a college lecturer, of all people? There was a plethora of questions beginning to steadily fill my thoughts; the first being why the Devil himself was infiltrating Toren campus grounds as a goddamned lecturer, of all kinds of jobs he could have done - like the principal of the college, or something. As he mentioned, he was the Devil.

"Look, sir, 'Isaiah', 'Satan', or whatever you want to be called - I don't understand nor do I trust your words because they just are too absurd to accept for me. Honestly, do you expect me to believe the words of a complete stranger whom I've probably never met before in my entire nineteen and a little more years of my life?" I continued with the verbal tirade as the tone of my voice got more irritated.

'Isaiah' walked up to me without saying a word and touched my forehead; it felt as though my mind, heart and soul were being ripped apart all at once. I couldn't think straight - the pain was overwhelming, excruciating agony. When he slowly released the contact with my forehead, the pain evaporated almost as quickly as it had briskly come, but left behind the entire series of events that had occurred in what I thought was a nightmare. Those memories had been in fact, real.

My jaw was dropped and I was gaping at blank air; mute and speechless with all the scenes slowly replaying in my head as though I was in a thrilling movie loaded with suspense. I could feel my heart skip a beat when I recalled the exact moment when that translucent monster - Adro - stabbed my father, effectively killing him right in front of my eyes; true to his original words twelve years ago when he told my father the consequence of cheating in the deal.

'Isaiah' remained quiet, but his amusement was definitely present as seen by his hearty grin. Still in shock, the adding amount of queries I had in me kept on piling up till I wasn't sure where to start with. I really wanted to give the man - or whatever he was - a big sock at the jaw for being such an insensitive bastard about my father's death, but I knew what would happen to me if I did so. The scene in my mind where he retaliated against my fist closing on to his face resulted in a vicious backhand that sent me flying and crashing onto the floor; several teeth missing and blood leaking from my nose and mouth.

I couldn't believe; I just couldn't believe it. The memories were vivid in my mind, but how would I know if the Devil - 'Isaiah' - was playing me for the sake of his amusement? After all, he didn't really have a good track record for helping people by doing any good deeds or favors for them, so why intervene with the lives of a college kid and his family?

"Look, Brad, I get that you're really confused by all this right now. Hell - if I myself wasn't an all-powerful, immortal deity, I probably would be confused if some strange redhead claimed to be the Devil and admitted to posing as a lecturer for two straight semesters. That's a bloody long time I spent to find the appropriate opportunity to help you, you know that?" He huffed and gave me an impatient sigh; he was starting to glare daggers at me, as though displeased by my utter stupidity.

If my father had really been murdered by that translucent individual I had seen this morning, then why was he still alive and intact the last time I saw him this morning? Wait just a second; how was it logically possible that I would be reliving the same day? In what I had surmised, I was probably currently having today - the first day of my fall semester - repeat. I was extremely bugged out by the fact that someone so evilly omnipotent would be helping me - to describe using his own words, a mere mortal. But I had to ask something; from what I could see, the Devil himself was getting rather heated by my unintelligent incomprehension of the abrupt stream of information he had restored to me.

"I don't get it. Why are you, Satan himself, helping me - one of seven and a half billion people in the world?" Inquiring in a cautious tone, I didn't want to irritate him any further.

"Call me Isaiah, my good lad, not Satan - I don't want to draw any unnecessary attention to myself when we're around these parts. As powerful as I am, I can't predict the future, surprisingly. Wonder if that old scoundrel up in the clouds can. Anyway, I'll feed you the entire script of details when you actually succeed in saving your father's frivolous life; for now, I want you to remember that you, Bradley Jonathan Porter, have signed an official contract with me."

I scratched my head as my brain tried its hardest to process what he just said.

"What happens if the expectations of the contract aren't met? For example, if my dad isn't saved, or if I don't manage to do whatever it is that you request of me to -"

"I won't go into details what happens if you fail to live up to one of my contracts, but let me warn you - it isn't pretty. But rest assured. There's only a fifty-two percent chance that someone fails to perform their end of the contract, and so far, there hasn't been a single one of those people who have escaped my wrath." Isaiah interrupted my question agitatedly with a clause that seemed very final, as though he had gotten sick of this conversation.

"Anyway," he continued as he massaged his temple vigorously, "You should skip out the rest of the microeconomics lecture. You don't need it anyway."

Staring after the deity as he briskly walked back where we came from, I couldn't help but contemplate his words. I could tell that he was an extremely arrogant individual; to be expected from the Devil himself of course, but a nagging voice at the back of my head told me not to trust this guy, as much as I wanted his help to save my father. It was hard; I had to play along with the immortal's intentions until my father evaded death, and then what? His threatening statistic of fifty-two percent seemed far larger than that. It wouldn't be flabbergasting if he had slaughtered a hundred percent of his victims who signed a contract with him.

It was too late to regret the decision I had made when my mind was in a frenzied, broken down state, and from Isaiah's final tone, I could tell that there was no turning back anymore. However, there was something in his demeanor earlier on that I noticed - his expression and mood steadily shifted from amusement to stress; perhaps I could employ this to my advantage should he double-cross me on his side of the deal.

I sighed. Lately, exhaling heavily was a common procedure for me these days. If anyone was stressed, I was; my father's death had a severe impact on me, leading me to do things I normally wouldn't do - like sign a contract with the evil Devil, of all people. Without being aware of it, I realized my hand was stuffed in my left pocket, and I had been gripping tightly onto the treasured family talisman of my father. Just what exactly was this emerald amulet worth?

There was about an hour and a half before my next class - college algebra - would start. I made my way back through the corridor I had come from, intending to head over to the gym to get some extra shots in for practice, when all of a sudden a short, scrawny prepubescent boy of brownish-beige skin color sporting dark blonde, curly hair bumped his head into my chest in one accelerated motion. The wind in my gut was forced out through my mouth and I coughed as my ribs stung from the sudden impact, but the annoyance that was starting to construct within me faded as quickly as it had come when I became aware that the boy who had run into me was Steve Porter - my brother.

Steve was sprawled on the floor like a welcome mat as he clutched his head firmly, groaning in visible agony. This was not the first time he had visited my college campus grounds; there had been a few instances where I had forgotten to bring my basketball shoes, and since we lived relatively near close to Toren, my brother voluntarily decided to help me. My sister on the other hand would probably have not even noticed that I had left something back at home, and would instead be trying to take the best photo of herself from the greatest possible angle; it couldn't be helped because social media was a growing plague eating at our society and providing us both good and bad.

I helped Steve up, dusting off his head gently as I steadied him to his feet.

"Didn't think that I would be forgetting something for today, Steve - I'll admit that I am a little out of it since I woke up this morning, but I would've packed the night before for the first day of my new term, wouldn't you think?"

A cunning, grating voice responded instead of the usual shrill, high-pitched voice of Steve.

"He's just the decoy, Bradley, my good sir."

Whipping my head around to the source of the person speaking, a sharp pain on the left side of my chest sucked all the breath out of me - literally. The pain was staggering, but I managed to keep standing - at least for now. I looked down at where the pain stemmed from and my brain was horrified as it registered the fact that my eyes were greeted by a steel dagger lodged where my heart was supposed to be. My vision was starting to get really blurry; my head was throbbing in an intense tantrum, and as I collapsed on the floor, the mocking sneer of the translucent entity Adro gazed down upon me as he turned to my younger brother with his bloodied dagger raised high in the air, primed to strike.

My brother's expression was one of confusion; I couldn't scream or even speak a single word as my vision slowly faded to black.