“Well Mr. Amesworth, today’s the day.”

  Brandon gulped, avoiding eye contact with the raspy voice. The two made their way down a bright clean, white narrow hall. Ebony colored diamonds patterned the cream colored marbled floor, with walls full of old paintings of prominent historical events. Brandon’s eye caught the sight of one, detailing a man attacking another near a river in front of a courthouse.

  “So uh, 1786 eh?” he said to the other man with a nervous chuckle.

  “…”

  “You know I always thought to myself, what if Daniel Shay had won his rebellion? I mean let’s be honest, it’s people like us who—”

  “Mr. Amesworth,” The raspy man then coughed. “Remember what I told you, no questions,” he said and brushed a few strands of black hair from his face.

  Brandon just nodded, dabbing his own face with a handkerchief. He wished it wasn’t him as an escort today. He always made him feel inferior and he could never guess why. His hair was always messy despite it being in a ponytail, and wore a simple white dress shirt matched by his gloves, with a black tie which matched his long buttoned suit coat. There wasn’t anything special except for one thing.

  “Um…Mr. Alastor sir…” Brandon said, trying to fan himself off. “Maybe this wasn’t the best time—”

  “When you address me, Mr. Amesworth, address me. Now pick your eyes up and try again.”

  The two men stopped and Brandon turned to face Alastor. Immediately he saw his distinguishable black triangular shaped face mask. Tubes jetted out each corner, the sides sliding down his neck to his back while the bottom one under his chin went into his tie. His dark baggy eyes stared into Brandon’s soul.

  “You know what?” Brandon pressed his lips. “I forgot, apologies!”

  Alastor shook his head, placing his hands up at a large wall before them. A dead end.

  Brandon let out a relieved sigh. “Well look at that! I suppose we’ll have to postpone this trip another—”

  Ignoring him, Alastor pressed his hands against the wall, causing a seamline down the middle, becoming a spread of double doors. Brandon’s lower jaw twitched.

  ‘Was that…always there?’

  The two took a few steps inside and the doors closed behind them, vanishing back into the air. Brandon snapped his attention behind him, then back to his front.

  They were on a farm. He knew they were outside; the smells, the cool breeze in his arms, even the grass beneath their feet was wet. He looked up to see a single star in the sky and a house off in the far distance with a windmill, both stood out among the meadow. Despite the breeze however, the area was mostly quiet. Alastor stepped ahead unbothered, he could tell the masked man was familiar with the place. Ahead of them Brandon saw a bench occupied by a man and woman, both of their features blurry and unrecognizable. He squinted, stepping in to get a better look. Then without warning, he fell to the ground on his knees, pain shot up his entire body, his lower legs turning numb. Brandon could only gasp, feeling as if he could barely breathe. He looked up before him to see the two individuals, a broad and petite one, sitting there calmly, uninterested even.

  “Well done, Alastor,” the broad one said in a masculine tone. It slowly turned its head to face Brandon “A little excited are we, Mr. Amesworth? Have you no manners?”

  Brandon sputtered, but no words came out.

  “Infuriating isn’t it?” the petite one spoke in a soft feminine accent. “A man of your wealth never conceived the day he’d look up to anyone ever again, yet here you are. The playing field here isn’t anything like out there.”

  Brandon gritted his teeth, he felt as if he were underwater. The pressure was so great he couldn’t even think properly. His ears pounded, his body vibrated, and his stomach made its way to his throat while his eyes watered uncontrollably. He felt as though his next shallow breaths would be his last. Suddenly a hand was placed on his shoulder and he could make out Alastor’s gurgled voice beside him.

  “I believe he’s learned his lesson, you still wanted him to speak, remember?”

  Then as quick as it began, Brandon felt the immense pressure leave his body, leaving him coughing and gagging for air. He managed to look up at the two, despite their barely noticeable features he could tell they were clearly amused looking down at him. He couldn’t help but feel his eyes continue to tear up out of frustration.

  Alastor dragged Brandon to his staggering feet, wiping his face. ‘Th-that feeling was nothing akin to what I’ve studied before! What is this Talent?!’ his mind raced.

  “Control, Mr. Amesworth.” The male voice hinted at smugness. “Something you very well lack.”

  The female figure gestured her hand to the ground. “Now forgive us for the repetition, but please have a seat.”

  Compiling with the nameless voice, Brandon sat on the ground, legs crossed.

  “Tell me,” the male voice said, “Why is it you desired to speak with us?”

  “I-I needed to know for myself…” Brandon began. He paused, and then nodded. “I needed to know…if it was real. I’ve always been fascinated with the idea of total control, the idea of a world without coincidences. I always believed in reason, believed that there was always a greater someone or something out there and I-I just never could find the answer…until now.” taking a breath, Brandon looked at the two shadowed figures.

  “Who are you?”

  For a moment there was silence. Only the sound of the wind along the grass could be heard as even the windmill stayed still despite the breeze. Then, the male slowly stood to face Brandon.

  Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  “We, Mr. Amesworth, are the answer.”

  The female slowly cocked her head, watching Brandon turn away, look back, then turn the other way. His hands went to his hips and stood up to take a step away from them. He then exhaled a small laugh.

  “I must say I’m…unimpressed.”

  The breeze, the grass, even the star, whatever existed around the four had seemingly come to a halt, leaving a deathly silence to fill the empty void. Alastor’s eyes widened.

  ‘You truly are ignorant, Brandon Amesworth,’ he thought.

  Brandon looked back, a pained grin on his face.

  “Ah, well done, well done!” he exclaimed, clapping his hands at the stern bench residents. “You know for what I’ve been told about meeting the world’s ‘elite’ I expected much, much more! Fine dining, top security, wonderful view, better lighting, oh and a proper ROOF! But what do I get? A cult of White Collared interns living on a disgusting empty farm doing absolutely nothing but wasting their ‘best’ Talent for cheap parlor tricks!” his head shot left to right, “Is this a joke?! Alastor, what is the meaning of this?!”

  Alastor did his best not to cough, feeling sweat run down the back of his neck but it wasn’t from his usual sickness; it came from much deeper. The female slightly tilted its head in the direction of the male, who nodded, slightly tilting its head back to Brandon.

  “I assume you don’t believe us, Mr. Amesworth?”

  ‘What I believe in are results.” Brandon replied. “Why am I to believe the lot of you possesses such a Talent if you haven’t done anything with it? For all I know that little show earlier was probably just Alastor’s Talent!”

  “…I see,” the male said. Looking first, it stepped back to the bench, standing beside it next to the female, hand resting at the back.

  “Mr. Amesworth, after I tap this bench I want you to check your company’s stocks.”

  “My stock—”

  ‘Tap’ ‘Tap’

  Brandon scoffed, taking out his phone before nearly dropping it in horror. Amesworth International was always a top ten business in the country, even competing with top international rivals in terms of value. Now looking at his phone, he wasn’t even top one thousand.

  “I-it’s not true!” He stammered. “It’s just another trick—”

  Then his phone blew up. Notifications form partners and investors all around the world withdrawing support. His employees were already quitting at a rapid rate, he even received an email requesting he file for bankruptcy immediately. He had to double take to make sure it was real.

  “H-hey STOP!” he cried. “Ok you’ve proved your point, now put it back!!”

  Brandon could hear laughter from the two now. He felt a lump welling in the back of his throat.

  “PLEASE!!!” he begged. “AT THIS RATE I’LL—”

  ‘Tap’ ‘Tap’

  The sound of tapping fingers put an abrupt stop to all the messages, arms shaking, Brandon slowly went back to the world ranking to see if he was back in the top ten.

  He was now number one.

  “Only when one makes the food chain, does he understand how it works.” The female voice spoke.

  Brandon sputtered, “H-h-how d-did you—”

  “Mr. Amesworth, come now! You already know the answer.” the male voice said. Its tone of voice lowered suddenly. “To be frank, we didn’t allow this occasion just to answer your questions.”

  The female voice let out a small snicker. “We’ve been monitoring you and your business for some time now. The way you climbed the ranks, before our assistance of course, was truly something to be admired.” It looked at the empty seat beside her. “Had you possessed true Talent this meeting could’ve gone differently…”

  Brandon fist clenched, his eyes fell to the ground and his teeth grit. ‘To think, the only thing holding me back…is the one thing I can’t afford! It’s just like that day! The day Clarissa…’

  Alastor watched the male voice return to its seat. He nudged Brandon’s shoulder with his own. “It’s about time for us to lea—”

  “That said…” the female continued, turning her head directly at him. “You can redeem your shortcomings by correcting such a mistake. It’s not impossible to perfect one’s flaws.”

  Brandon could feel his ears perk. The concept was near incomprehensible to him. “It’s-it’s impossible! People are born with Talent, there’s no logical way—”

  “Then make it your way,” the voice replied. “If you manage to complete such a task then perhaps we can arrange for more seating arrangements. I’ll even ensure you keep your position at the top of the rankings to do so.”

  Now everyone turned their attention toward her, even the male figure.

  “My dear…” It began in a thicker tone. “I do hope you understand the consequences if such an endorsement were to fail…”

  “I believe my investment outweighs the risk,” The female said quickly. “Do not disappoint me, Mr. Amesworth.” Then without a word, it went back to looking off into the meadow.

  Alastor checked his watch. “Your time’s up, Mr. Amesworth. I do hope this experience was as amusing for you as it was for them.

  Brandon turned to leave. ‘my way…my way. It sounds like something my son would say—’ then, he felt a smile forming on his lips. ‘My son…how could I have forgotten?’

  Another seamline appeared before the two. They stepped into a blinding light…

  “No, no wait!” Xole yelled feeling Brandon’s memories slip away. He heard the door burst open behind him where he saw Mr. Holdover run up with Shakar, injured and slung over his shoulder. Mr. Holdover looked Xole up and down.

  “Hey, you made it! Now where’s Bran—”

  “He’s gone. Xole said, moving away from the edge. Mr. Holdover stepped over, glancing down and scrunching his brow.

  “Oh…thought you were yelling cause you were about to get killed or something. Damn near dropped some dead weight on that last flight.”

  “Oh, yes. ‘Dead weight’s’ fine too.” Shakar smiled through dried blood on his face. “I’m fine by the way. Only a few scrapes and bruises that’s all.”

  Xole started at the two, eventually dropping his head into a smile of his own. “You two…your all I got left.”

  The two men watched Xole shiver and sniff, but he didn’t tear up this time, instead he looked off into the city watching the first rays of dawn break through the clouds.

  “I’ll never, ever, take any of this for granted again. And I have you two to thank for that, for giving me a second chance.”

  There was a silence on the roof top, the wind blew strongly overhead. Mr. Holdover walked over to Xole, slapping his hand on his shoulder.

  “Boy, how would you like to come work for us?”

  Xole looked surprised. “Wait, you have a business?”

  “Had,” Shakar interjected.

  He craned his neck. “Just answer the damn question.”

  “I mean yeah totally, but how are we supposed to be paid?” Xole asked.

  Mr. Holdover pulled out a remote. “Well I’m glad you asked. I’ve been waiting all day to do this.”

  Shakar suddenly looked worried. “Do what?”

  He smirked, “PAYBACK TIME!” and slammed his fist on the button. A large overhead suddenly ruptured into a swarm of green dollar bills, falling into the city in a storm of torrential cash.

  “Hey look!” a freckled faced boy shouted pointing up. “It’s Christmas!”

  “Son!” A woman’s voice yelled as she ran out the door of a nearby building embracing the boy. However, her grip released when she noticed what her son was pointing to.

  “M-m-money?! FREE MONEY!”

  The roar of civilians could be heard below, running out into the street despite the curfew. Instead of getting ready for work, they scrambled to take as much of the falling cash as possible.

  Shakar scrunched his face, looking down into the commotion. “This would be a fine idea, Mr. Holdover...”

  Mr. Holdover chuckled. “I know, thought real long and hard about—”

  “…If we we’re down there that is. Interesting that Amesworth’s money filled blimp wasn’t anywhere near his building. Guess he thought someone would highjack his assets—“

  “FUCK!” He yelled, running off to the stairs.

  Lips pressed together Shakar followed, still clutching his side. Xole took his other arm.

  “It’s the least I could do…and thanks for the advice, Shakar.”

  “Well it is the least I could do as a teacher.” Shakar said reassuringly. Xole looked over this shoulder one more time at where Brandon fell, shaking his head.

  “Actually, there is one more thing I need to tell you guys.” Xole said.

  “Could it wait?” Shakar asked a little more impatiently, sweat rolled down his face.

  Xole hesitated. “Yeah, actually it can. It was just about my Talent anyways…”