Three | Asset

Silence covered Michelle like a blanket, weighing her down as she attempted to move. The bright white clouds surrounding her darkened, lightning sparking inside. No longer on the sidewalk, she now stood on the roof a skyscraper –a dizzying 1,396 feet to the ground below.

The air whipped around her, tugging at her clothes, and pulling her hair. Her eyes refused to focus, choosing to play tricks on her instead. The ground heaved, the sides of the building warping and pitching her forward. She grabbed at the rail, but its flimsy metal pickets wouldn’t be strong enough to save her.

Then she saw him. Five feet away stood a boy, bright orange hoodie rippling in the wind. He stood on the other side of the railing, the edges of his shoes resting on nothing but empty space. Bloodless fingers were the only thing holding him in place as he lifted one foot. The wind changed directions, causing the building to groan as he put his foot back down.

Panicking, Michelle lunged towards him. She knew this was just a bad dream but everything about it seemed real. Even the choking sensation in her throat that came from lack of air was startlingly realistic.

As her fingers laced around his wrist to hold him in place, the coldness of his hands and darkness of his eyes seared into her soul. Even the air around him was cold. Unable to rip her gaze away and cemented in place, her hands began to tremble, goosebumps racing up her arm.

“Who are you?” he demanded, unblinking against the stinging bits of ice that rained from the clouds.

She swallowed, not letting go despite the icy numbness seeping into her fingers. It was as if her hands were wet and she had touched a frozen metal pole, causing her skin to stick to it and tear painfully whenever she tried to pull back.

“What—what are you doing?”

“I asked you a question,” he snapped.

He smelled of a mix of metal and blood, reminding her of something but she didn’t know what.

His eyes darkened and his grip on the handle tightened—fingers somehow turning whiter than they already were. She imagined how that would feel—cold and lost, numb to the pain he was inflicting on them. She cringed slightly and reached out, fingertips brushing against his skin. He seemed so real, so alive, so—she stopped herself. He was just a dream, a part of the dream. She just needed to wake up.

She stared him in the eyes, trying not to shiver. The strange lighting grew duller with each second as did the darkness in his eyes. His voice softened to a whisper almost and she realized how bad he was shaking. She hadn’t noticed it at first but now, it was obvious. With each gust of wind, his hoodie whipped through the air, tangling around his body, and making him sway.

“Let go of my hand.” It was more of a plea than a command.

She did so without hesitation, without even thinking. Stumbling away from him, all her concerns and panic bled away. She knew why she’d never reached him before. Deep down, she’d known it wouldn’t make a difference. The sleet bit into her skin and drilled into her skull but she just stood there, arms pressed against her side.

Relinquishing his hold on the railing, he took a step forward. One step; and he was gone, not even so much as a sound. Only then did she move, hurtling for the railing and peering over.

She should have held on; shouldn’t have let go no matter what she thought.

His orange hoodie swallowed him up, a burning cloud of flames against the fading Grays and blues of the tired city. She watched him plummet, getting further away from her and closer to the ground–like a dead leaf blowing in the wind, falling to the ground to rot like the others before it.

She shoved away from the railing, her body going numb. She didn’t want to see him hit, didn’t want to walk past him on the way out of the building. Paralyzed, she sucked in shallow breaths. Only when the wailing of sirens grew louder –sixty breathes later –did she snap out of it. The twenty yards to the rooftop door stretched into a hundred and she couldn’t feel the button when she pressed it.

No matter how hard she tried to get her mind to think about something else she couldn’t shake the thoughts that raced through her mind.

He had been so cold.

Michelle awoke with a gasp, eyes opening wide as she sat up. The overhead lights were blinding and made her squint so she looked down, waiting for the world to stop spinning. She had no clue where she was yet the room around her looked vaguely familiar as if she had been there before. A strange sense of déjà vu settled over her as she sat there, hands pressed against the sides of her head.

Letting her hands slide down the side of her face, she stared at her fingers, confused as to why there were remains of dried blood in the creases of her palm. Looking down, she noticed the small black stitches that ran the length of her forearm, pulling together the sliced skin.

Only then did she remember what happened. Swinging her legs off the bed, she grabbed her bloodied jacket from off the back of a chair and headed for the doorway. She stumbled slightly but managed to catch herself on the doorway. Her head spun and darkness edged on the edges of her vision so she shut her eyes.

“Woah, hold up for a moment.” She felt someone’s arms around her shoulders, supporting her and pulling her away from the doorway. They led her out of the room and sat her down on a couch. Their voice was deep yet comforting, friendly, and welcoming. “You need to be careful; you’re not entirely healed yet.”

The voice was so familiar yet she couldn’t place it. As she slowly opened her eyes, she finally saw who it was. The boy had sandy brown hair that partially hid his big brown eyes. He smiled slightly as recognition flashed across her face.

“Long time no see, Michelle,” Ezra spoke.

She had known Ezra from what seemed like forever when in reality it had only been five years. He and his older brother Nehemiah had been native to Echonia, one of the many worlds the Gateways connected too, but during the latest civil war that had broken out, they had immigrated. Since then, her grandfather had employed them as Mentors and Guards for the several Entryway’s that littered the city.

“Why am I here?” she questioned.

“I found you on the street.” He crouched down before her. “You collapsed in my arms.”

“Sorry about that.” She went to stand but he stopped her by holding onto her wrist and sitting her down.

“Don’t try and move just yet,” he ordered. His eyes went to her arm and she saw him flinch slightly. “I’m assuming it was a rogue Nightmare?”

She put a hand over her wrist and tucked the stitches towards her so he wouldn’t have to look at it. “Unfortunately, you are correct.”

“Maybe you should enroll in the Exposure Therapy that Gateway provides. I’ve heard they do a good job—,” he started.

“I can’t,” she cut him off. “If anyone leaks to the news that own of my Nightmares went rogue, Liam will only use it to his advantage.”

“Liam?” he echoed. “What did your grandfather even see in him?”

“He was an asset to my grandfather.” She rubbed her jaw. “Investors and sponsors liked the idea of him taking a younger businessman under his wing and helping him out. It gave him grace in the eyes of those he relied on.”

Ezra sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “And now your grandfather has become an asset to him.”

She nodded her response, biting back the urge to stand and head for the door. Although she and Ezra knew each other, she had always kept her distance from the two brothers, unsure of what to think of them exactly.

“I heard about your interview with Missy.” He broached the subject. “And what you said about the Apprenticeship.”

“It’s not happening.” She spoke before he continued. “As much as I would like to honor and respect my grandfather, I will not do it.”

“Do you plan on taking over the company or not?” He countered. “This is the only thing you have to do for the company to be yours. As soon as your Apprenticeship is over, you’ll be old enough to be CEO and Liam is out of the picture.”

“And if I’m remembering right, his son gets his position,” she said.

“His son can’t be worse than him though,” he pointed out.

“I can only hope so.” She sighed. “But everyone knows that the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.”

Ezra pressed his lips together and she could tell he didn’t agree with what she had said.

“They said the same thing about me.” He stood and turned away. “But I am nothing like my father.”

“You know I wasn’t talking about you,” she snapped, slightly annoyed. A drumming pain had started at the base of her neck and with every passing second, it got worse.

“Just give the kid a chance.” His back remained to her but his shoulders relaxed slightly. “And give Nehemiah a chance too.”

She was quiet for a second, chewing on her lip. “I’ll think about it.”

Standing, she slipped her jacket on and zipped it up half-way. “I’m assuming Nehemiah is the one that stitched me up. Snapdragon would have done a better job but please tell him ‘thank you’ for me.”

“You can tell him yourself when you start your Apprenticeship.” He turned to look at her, their eyes meeting.

She didn’t respond but headed for the door, only to be stopped in her tracks by what he said next.

“Have you found him?” Ezra’s voice rang through the wide living room, echoing ever so slightly in the silence. “The Vanished Child your grandfather always talked about.”

There it was again—the same feeling that had erupted from her gut last night now sprung from her chest, inky black veins peeking out from the edges of her jacket cuffs. They laced around the tendons on the back of her finger, dancing along creases in her fingers and palms, and then disappeared when she took a deep breath.

“I think so.” She looked over her shoulder at him. “Just like my grandfather said, he was colder than ice and darker than death itself.”

“What do you expect? He is the Grim Reaper after all.”

She smirked. “Yeah, right. Like I believe that.”

“Is there someone that can stay with you until you decide what do about your Nightmare?” Ezra steered the conversation in another direction. “Maybe call Sunny and see if she’ll be in town.”

“I will.” She nodded. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll let you know what I decide about the Apprenticeship.”

“Take your time.” He opened the door wide and gave her a goodbye smile as she left.

****

The moment Michelle got back to her apartment, she pulled up her contacts and dialed Sunny, her closest and only friend. As it rang, she put it on speaker-phone and set it on the counter. Walking to the sink, she ran a paper towel under the water and crouched down, wiping at the splatters of blood that had dried on the hardwood floor.

“Hey!” Sunny’s warm voice filled the silence that had hung over Michelle like a raincloud. “What’s up?”

“Is it possible that you could stay at my place for a week or so?” She sat up on her heels, waiting for an answer. When the line was quiet for a moment, she continued. “I’ve been having problems ever since I got back and with the apartment being empty and all, my Nightmares have gotten stronger.”

Sunny was the only person who knew what Michelle’s greatest fear was and she had always done her best to make sure that fear never got too strong. She knew how exposed and scared Michelle would be if that fear became a reality.

“Of course,” was the answer. “I’m actually flying in later tonight so I’ll just come straight to your place.”

“Thank you.” Michelle stood up and tossed the now-bloodied paper towel into the trash. “I’ll see you soon then.”

She could hear the smile in Sunny’s voice as she responded. “I can’t wait! Be thinking about what you want to watch tonight, okay?”

Her phone buzzed, indicating that someone had messaged her so Michelle picked it up to look at it. “Okay, I gotta go. Liam just texted me.”

“Bye!”

As the line went dead, Michelle pulled the chat conversation up which consisted of reminders for meetings and questions about her arrival back in the States. This time, it was a reminder that she had a meeting with him and his son Xion in thirty minutes.

Sighing, she went to her room and changed into long sleeves, hiding the stitches. She grabbed a clean jacket from her closet and headed out the door, not looking forward to meeting Liam so soon.

****

A soft ballad played over the speakers of the café, just loud enough to be background music but too soft to actually make out. It was rush hour now and the daily commuters were stopping to get coffee on their way home, causing the streets, sidewalks, and stores to be packed full.

Michelle sat across from Liam, her hands folded in her lap. The ‘meeting’ hadn’t started yet as his son hadn’t arrived and as the minute hand ticked by on the clock, she started to doubt it was just the traffic that was holding him up.

She had already examined every square inch of her surroundings and now had to look at Liam. He had salt and pepper hair that was thinning at his hairline and his dark eyes seemed to be sunken into his skull. He seemed to be made up of only skin and bones, his fingers long and crooked and his wrists small and fragile. The impatient look that rested on his face didn’t help any either.

“Sorry, I’m late. I didn’t exactly want to be here.” A young man a little older than her sat down next to Liam. He had snow-white hair that made her think he had bleached it but she wasn’t sure. His eyes were a startling blue color, reminding her of the sea just as the sun catches the waves.

“Glad you could make it.” Liam was annoyed and it showed in his voice. “I’ll get straight to the point since you’ve already wasted so much of my time, Xion.”

He smirked. “Not my problem.”

“Michelle, I would like you to see a psychologist and be assessed,” he started. “Before you take measures to take over the CEO position, I have been asked by many of Gateway’s sponsors and investors to make sure that you are mentally and emotionally stable enough to take this job.”

She narrowed her eyes, biting her tongue to keep herself from snapping back. Leaning her head to the side, she rubbed her temple in mocked concentration.

“I don’t know if that’s the wisest move though, Mr. Sanchez,” she finally spoke. “If the media catches onto the fact that I, the sole heiress of Gateway Incorporated, went to see a counselor about my mental health, it could blow up in our faces.”

“That’s a risk I’m going to have to take.” A strained smile appeared on his face, his annoyance growing. “The investors insist that you do this.”

“The investors can mind their own business and just invest like they’re supposed to,” Xion spoke up. “It’s not their problem whether Michelle is mentally stable enough to handle the position or not.”

“Michelle’s ability also affects them, son.” Liam gritted his teeth. “It massively impacts them if Gateway spirals down because of her inability to handle the position.”

“I’ll do it.” She cut him off before he could say anything else. “But I don’t think you’ll get the results you’re looking for.”

He pulled an appointment card from his pocket and slid it across the table. “I don’t think that’s going to be a problem, Ms. Glass.”

Next:

Four | Zombie

(Monday)