Page 4 of Sick Bargain

I should have known not to negotiate, but I had to try to save my sister. I nod in his grip, the edges of my vision darkening with black spots. My fingers grasp at his, trying to pry them open while panic sets in. My head fills with pressure and my eyes struggle to remain open while feeling like they’re popping out of my skull.

“Agree,” he demands.

Croaking out an agreement, I sway on my knees. When he lets go, I buckle forward on all fours, coughing spit and bile onto the floor.

“Names,” he demands while I’m hacking.

“Reeven Matterson.” Cough. “Gregory Malone.” Choke. “Soren Sauder.” Defeat.

If he’s surprised by my brother’s name, he doesn’t react. “Dead?”

“Dead or… missing,” I correct. “But Soren just… gone. Temporarily.”

“Deal,” he agrees. “Until I free you. Bargain struck?”

Deep breath. “Bargain struck.”

With that, the bargain is etched into my future. My life belongs to the Vile Boy in the purple mask.

3

TEMPLATE FOR DESTRUCTION

REMIEL

The Vile Boyshave a calling card. Everyone around town knows it, but now that I’m staring at it, seeing the purple that marks it fromhim, I’m hesitant to flip it over.

The symbol is always the same. The skeletal system of a torso. Ribs, a spine, the pelvic bone. It’s the splashes of colour that differ. Ten colours, and although I’ve never seen a purple one around town, I know I’m about to become vividly familiar with the bright shade.

It’s still sitting on my nightstand. With no idea how I got here—after waking up with a throbbing headache and a bump on the back of my head—I blinked at my room and saw the card. From him. I haven’t moved since. I’m not usually such a chickenshit, but Ididsign my life away last night, so my hesitation is justified.

“Remi!” Mom shouts. “Breakfast!”

Does she know why I’m here? I don’t even live here. I moved out of my parents’ house four years ago after my dad’s death. Haven’t stepped foot in this house since my younger brother’s death six months ago, and our other brother even longer ago than my dad. Just me and Soren left to the curse now, and I hate knowing he’s stronger than me. That he’ll outlast our race tosuicide. That I’ll break my deal with the man in the purple mask and he will wipe out my bloodline because of it.

Regret is almost worse than the curse.

“Remi!” Mom shouts again, her feet stomping up the stairs. I snatch the card and hide it under the blankets just as the door opens. “Morning.” Her smile is empty, but it’s artificially bright, and I don’t know what to think of her anymore. She’s different now. “It’s been a long time since you’ve been here, so I thought we could have breakfast before you go.”

Her eyes are pleading. She’s a mother who has lost two sons and a husband to suicide. She’s a brave woman—or maybe a stupid one—who married a Sauder man and thought she could prevent the self-inflicted mortal wound to his life. She didn’t fail. The curse is just too strong. I can see it when she looks at me now. She’s memorizing me, taking me in, committing the good parts of me to her mental recall because sheknows. She knows I’ll be next, and even though she loves me, she’s long given up on trying to save us.

“I’ll be right down,” I tell her with a forced smile.

She wants to say more, maybe to ask why I’m here, but she doesn’t. She leaves the bedroom door open and heads back downstairs.

I don’t look around my childhood bedroom. I know the room by heart, and there’s a reason I never come to stay in it. I shared it with a brother who no longer lives in this world. I don’t want to see it, so I pull the calling card from beneath the blankets and hold my breath while I flip it over.

Midnight. Your father’s grave.

Great. Exactly where I want to go. I exhale dread.

I get dressed, stuff the card in my jacket pocket, and head downstairs to have breakfast with my mom. When I get to thekitchen, I see my younger sister sitting at the table with her nose buried in a book. She’s not a voracious reader of novels. She’s a stubborn studier who thinks she can break our family curse by studying psychology. Been there. Tried that. But she goes to the university in the next city over and often comes home on weekends because… she never knows when our last day of life might be.

“Morning, hun,” Mom says again, handing me a plate of eggs and potatoes. “It’s nice to have you here. How are you feeling?”

I sit opposite my sister Selena and pick bacon off the platter on the table. “Feeling?”

“You were wasted when they brought you here last night,” Selena says with a laugh. “Honestly, Rem, I haven’t seen you that drunk since you took me to my first high school party.”

---