Page 89 of Sick Bargain

I’m not someone who is easily tricked, mostly because I don’t have the patience to listen. But I can’t walk away right now. This is my job, given to me on behalf of Vile House to protect Moros. There are few things I care about in this world, but Moros is one of them.

“Is this thetellpart of your show and tell?”

“It is,” he says, laughing nicely. “Have you met the one they call Medic?”

I nod. Medic is the man who acts as our doctor, surgeon, and general practitioner. He patches us up if we get wounded and gives us referrals for our mental health.

“He’s Director’s brother, you know. My birth father, but he didn’t raise me. A Vile House secret.” Axel looks at me. I’m surprised, especially because Director didn’t warn me, but I don’t show it. “It was your testing that… caused a rift between us. As you know, mental coercion and brainwashing, really anything to do with mind control, are my… crème de la crème, if you will. The way you withstood that mental torture was…” He moans, kissing his fingertips.

“So, you’ve known my name and who I am this whole time? Why the game?”

“I knew who you were then. You didn’t have your name yet. Krypt. It fits.” He smiles.

“With a K.”

“Mm. Even better. I want to show you something, Krypt. What my methods can do. Then I want to explore them with you. Your mind is a vault, and I haven’t found a subject yet that can resist my coercion. I need to study its weak points on someone who stands a chance at fighting it. Would you work with me?”

“With you? You’re working with Benton Wentworth, trying to take over Moros.” My fingers twitch, wanting to grab the handle of a knife just to feel the grip of it.

Axel waves that off. “His billions are paying for my experiments, yes, but Moros is what I’m trying to protect.”

“From?”

“Outside. Ah, here they are.”

I straighten, finding a group of ten people walking towards us. One of them is Remiel’s mom. They all look normal, but their expressions are expectant, as if they’re waiting to learn why they’re here. Axel’s minions, who came when he called.

“These ten are to the point I can utter a single word or address on the phone, and they come running. I’ve trained them with sound signals.”

“Why her?” I nod at Mrs. Sauder.

“Because she’s a horrible person. That Sauder curse.” He clicks his tongue. “Her husband was living longer than she thought he would, so…”

No. What?“How do you know this?”

“That’s not the right question, Krypt. The right question would be ‘why am I doing this?’ don’t you think?” His one eye looks at me as his ten controlled minds come to a stop ahead of us. “These are test subjects. But imagine the power Moros could have if we had a group of ten powerful people under our control. Because the world is coming for Moros, my friend, and we’re not ready to defend our home.”

“Who’s coming for Moros?” Because we thought it was him and his team of billionaires. People have been trying to overtake Moros for years, but their money doesn’t get them far against our town. But if the right person or group took a shot, well, we’re only so strong. I don’t even know if I believe a word out of his mouth yet.

Axel pulls a folded piece of paper from his jacket pocket but doesn’t hand it to me. “Moros is a town full of myths, cults, sinister people, and darkness. Over the decades, it’s earned a reputation, hasn’t it? Government organizations leave it alone, the FBI and CIA don’t come here, and we draw the kind of attention that gets stupid people killed or missing but repels street-smart people. Who do you think would benefit from owning an untouchable town and the people in it?”

“Just fucking tell me. I’m not the dramatic build-up type.”

He sets the folded paper on the hood and steps away from it, walking to his group of controlled people. When he’s far enough away, I grab it. It’s an encrypted message I can’t fully understand, but a few things stand out.

A date. Almost a year from now.

Every M, O, R, and S is capitalized.

It takes me a very long time because I’m not the puzzle-solving type, but the seemingly insignificant lowercase letters at the bottom… they aren’t in order. But if you reorganize them, they spell…

“Ah, so you’re aware of them.” Axel gracefully spins to face me.

Reaper Corp, that’s what the letters spell. The organization that breeds its own killers, specialists, and geniuses. The group who took over a city down south and turned it into their own personal kingdom. If they want Moros…

I crumple the paper. “How do I know you didn’t just print this off?”

Axel smiles at me, but he clicks something between his fingers. “I’ll prove it to you.” As one, his group of ten come at me. But it’s not them I’m worried about.

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