Replay, Chain Letter pt4: A New Year

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It was the next morning; Saturday. I vaguely remembered chatting to Brooke's mates on the computer, bitching about being taken off the team. The night ended up surfing his favourite porn sites and jerking off. Through tired eyes I glanced around the room, shirts and sports gear scattered across the floor. My head dropped to the pillow again. An itchy irritation prickled across my face--I rubbed it with the heel of my hand. "Fuck it."

The discomfort intensified, it felt like thousands of hot pin pricks sweeping across my skin. I yelled and ran to the bathroom splashing cold water over my face, I looked up and saw Brooke's reflection. "Good, now I've got your attention," a waspish voice echoed through my head. "You need to understand--your purpose."

"My purpose?" I questioned, rubbing at my eyes. "What do you mean?"

There was a soft chuckle. "You're working for me now--my soul collector."

I choked shaking my head. "What are you, the devil?"

"No, just one of his associates," the voice replied as a prickle etched its way across my face again.

Brooke's face had changed, staring back at me was the mask that I foolishly used yesterday. I wanted out of this forced partnership, I pulled at the edges for the mask desperately trying to free myself. "I can't get it off," I yelled only feeling more pain the harder I tried.

Eventually I surrendered to the fact I was trapped. "Finished?" The voice echoed again. "You are bound by the mask, to fulfil its demands or suffer the consequences. It was in the contract you signed."

"I didn't sign anything," I muttered.

"But you did, yesterday when the previous owner handed you the mask."

I blinked, the long list of names. The short guy I thought was the courier. "Shit!"
"Yes, he was a good worker--initially. But he just couldn't keep up with the demands," the voice sounded disappointed. "The penalties weighed heavy on him."

"Penalties?" I repeated.

"Yes, he was young."

"But he looked a lot older, maybe late fifties?"

"It was unfortunate."

"Fuck, fuck, FUCK!" I yelled at the top of my voice.

Moments later there was a knock at the door, Brooke's mother. "You OK Brooke? I heard shouting."

I scrambled to my feet, glancing at the masks pale complexion. Its surface rippled, returning to Brooke's features. "Don't do anything you'd regret later," the voice whispered.

"I'm on the phone," I yelled through the door, Brooke had little patience for his parents. I waited, but there was no reply. "So what's the deal?" I grumbled.

"Glad you're coming around," the voice chuckled. "The contract you signed was for a year and a day. The first day was free--"

"Give me a taste, get me hooked. Scum!"

"No, that was a benchmark. It determines your quota for the rest of the year."

"Explain!"

"Two changes, no swaps with anyone--no souls. They're free, have as many of those as you like. You took two avatars, Levi Caton and his son Brooke. That's your mark--now you have to give me two avatars every day for a year."

"I have to swap with two people every day?"

"Consider yourself lucky, the previous owner ran wild on his first day--eight avatars. He couldn't maintain that quota, so he paid a lot in penalties."

The thought of swapping and changing excited me, but the mask was reading my thoughts. "He thought it would be easy to begin with," it whispered to me. "Fail me on any day and I'll take what's owed."

I didn't like the sound of that, "Take what?"

"Each time you fail to reach your quota, I'll take two months off your life."

Brooke's reflection paled as I ran the numbers through the head, "There's got to be a way out."

There was a pause. "You can quit anytime, you just have to ask. But I'll still take what's owed."

"So I'd end up being seventy something?"

"If you're lucky, and you don't die first," there was a touch of gloating in its voice.

"I don't really have a choice do I?"

"No, you don't." The response was terse, I was really screwed. Cursing under my breath I remembered the short, fat guy that gave me the package containing the mask. No wonder he was so insistent to get rid of it.

I threw myself on the bed, staring at the ceiling. Two people a day, that sounds pretty easy, I told myself.

Closing my eyes I thought of the past day. Brooke's frustration about being taken off the team bubbled up, burned in my thoughts. I snorted a laugh, it was a good place to start. There where a lot of students at school, easy to make my quota--damn, have I given in to this monster already?

"Hmm, you've got a strong mind," the voice whispered.

"Don't fuck with me," I growled. "I'm going to get you out of me--one way or another." A chuckle echoed through my head.

I put on Brooke's headphones and turned up the music, the dull bass of the beat pounded through my head. I flipped through the notebook of names, "Is this the only book?" I said out loud. I waited for a reply, from inside my head. I asked again--nothing.

Shutting off the music, I asked again, and I got a reply, "That's only one of many books."

I touched play again, the music continued. "I'll kill myself," I muttered. There was no response--maybe the music was acting like a barrier, or a distraction. At least I'd found a way keep some of my thoughts and reasoning private.

The iPhone rang, Kurt--one of Brooke's friends. "Hey, what's up shit head," I smirked carrying off Brooke's persona faultlessly. "A party huh? Yeah I'm up for that. That dick Jack won't be there will he?" "Good, you heard I was off the team then?" "Fucking pissed me off, coach knows shit about what's going on." "Who else is going to be there?" "Sweet, the whole gang. You want me to bring any beers?" "Sure, I'll pick some up. See you later bro'." I hung up and thought about the football team, they were a close knit team--easy pickings.

I traced my finger through Brooke's memories. On Saturday afternoons he would normally be at football practice back at school. I knew Brooke wouldn't be missing that, coach always made them work hard.

Coach, I thought to myself. Perfect. He was shit scary, nobody dared answer him back--a useful avatar.

It was already eleven, so I showered up. After last nights porn-fest there were few places I hadn't already explored.

Pulling on a tank and some sweats, I stuffed the notebook in my pocket. Jogging down the stairs and into the kitchen I found Levi--Brooke's father. He glowered at me and lowered his head submissively. I grabbed some snacks and left not bothering to say anything.

I sat in Brooke's SUV and called the coach. "Coach, I gotta talk with you. I gotta get back on the team," I pleaded. There was silence for a moment, then he told me he was at the gym in town. He said he'd wait for me.

Parking next to the coach's truck, I walked into the gym and through to the weight room. There was the strong odour of sweat and testosterone.

"Brooke!" a deep voice boomed out over the clang of weights. I looked around and spotted the topless coach beckoning me over. He stood there towering over me glancing around at the others in the room. "What can I help you with son?"

"I need to talk--" I rubbed the back of my head, "about being taken off the team." I could feel Brooke's nervousness breaking through, coach was an intimidating giant.

I followed him over to the main desk. "Can I use the meeting room," he asked man behind the desk.

"Sure," the man replied and handed over a key.

"Follow me," coach muttered, a little impatiently.

Rolling my shoulders I tried to relax as I followed him, desperately trying to figure out a plan to capture him without getting hurt.

Inside the room he closed the door, and instantly his demeanour changed. "How can I help you sir," he asked--his voice quiet.

I blinked, not believing the change. "You're an avatar?"

"Yes, did you not check the notebook?"

I flipped through the pages, and found Willard Jackson--coach, written in silver script. "It just threw me. You wasn't acting like the other avatars I've met."

"No, we weren't alone so I was staying in character. I knew who you were as soon as you walked in. You must be new?"

"My second day."

"You'll be able to feel those who belong to you very soon." He looked me up and down. "So Brooke, bet you're kinda pissed about being taken off the team?" I nodded. "Is that why you're here?"

"I only look like Brooke--I'm just channelling his anger," I grinned.

He raised an eyebrow. "And you're still going after Jack?"

"He's just a number, I have to collect two avatars a day."

"Is that all?" He laughed.

"It's enough! I thought there'd be plenty to pick up in the football team," I retorted.

"Sorry, so I guess you came here so you could use me?"

I said nothing, only reaching out and grasping his wrist. A burning sensation crawled up my arm, I closed my eyes as a familiar prickling covered my body. I groaned, and the pitch of my voice dropped. I blinked, but this time I was staring eye to eye with the coach.

Brooke's tank stretched tight across my new torso. "Strip!" I growled at the now passive coach as I carefully peeled off the clothes I was wearing. I stood for a moment, the two of us naked--twins. Grasping his neck with a meaty hand I squeezed and thought of Brooke. He let out a gasp and I felt him shrink in my hand.

Looking back at me was Brooke, there was a nervousness in his eyes--perhaps the same feeling I had in coach's presence. "Get dressed," I told him. He scrambled around putting on the clothes I'd only just discarded. I watched him, unconsciously playing with the hair on my impressive pectorals. I felt a tightness, I looked down past the slabs of meat hanging from my shoulders. Coach Jackson's--my dick was hardening.

I shook my head, suddenly felling coach Jackson's strength and testosterone swamp me. I dropped slowly into a chair, I was drowning. My mind--the stolen mind, flipped through the wishes and desires of giant. Many focusing on the football team.

A noise brought me back, Brooke had finished dressing and was standing in front of me--a strong young jock. My mind started to wander again knowing that these avatars would do my biddings without question--anything?

end of pt4