Oh, I’ve known about voldisil for quite awhile now. I mean, I didn’t know
they were called that, but I knew there were people out there with inhuman
abilities. I mean, I didn’t know that there were multiple people, but I knew
that there was at least one. If you had told me back then that there were
others, I probably would have believed you without proof, but if you had
told me that most—or even some—of them were good, I can’t promise I would
have believed that. This is the story of a lawyer who wasn’t a lawyer
anymore, a friend of a friend, and a race to save my own life. I practiced
law for 20 years. I wasn’t a particularly great one, but my skills were
enough to live on, and my clients didn’t complain. They knew that they were
getting what they paid for, and I was always upfront about my limitations
going into every business relationship. I won’t get into why I was
disbarred, but while I definitely deserved punishment in some form or
another, it should have been another, like maybe a fine. I didn’t have
anything to fall back on, but a friend of mine suggested I become a
certified nursing assistant like her. It wasn’t too much education, and when
I factored in expenses and all the pro bono work I did, it ended up paying
about as much as I was getting before. I met a lot more people in my new
line of work, which I loved. I was even sad to see them go, even though it
meant that they were better, and that was obviously a good thing. I had this
one patient who was in it for the long-haul, though, so I got to know him
pretty well. He eventually learned that I was educated in law, and asked if
I would do him a favor. It wasn’t the first time I gave out free legal
advice, and it wasn’t itself illegal. I just had to be clear about my
situation. I couldn’t charge for it, and I couldn’t represent them. He said
that it was perfect. All I needed to do was look over this extremely long
contract for his brother.
The brother had applied for a new job, and it was evidently very hush-hush.
They couldn’t even tell him what he was going to be doing until he signed
the non-disclosure agreement. All they said was that his résumé came up, and
that he was perfect for a new position. So I took the document home, and
read over it very carefully. I didn’t want to miss a single word, because it
was fascinating how long it was, and I wanted to figure out what this was
all about. These days, the length would be standard, but in those days, it
was weird. There wasn’t a lot about the company, or even what the job was
like. It talked a lot about compensation, and the consequences of
insubordination. There was one line near the end that caught my eye. I still
remember the words: anyone who reads this contract is subject to its terms,
with or without a final signature. Failure to sign after reading this
paragraph will result in death. Well, that was me. I read it, and since it
was so big, and my patient and his brother knew they wouldn’t understand it,
I was the only one who read it. I brushed it off, even though it was really
creepy, because all I had to do was pretend I never saw that paragraph. That
was how I found out that the supernatural was real. A demon—as I called him,
with no better comprehension of spirit powers—just knew that I had read the
line, and he started coming after me. What followed were a series of near
death experiences, blood sacrifices, and a ton of running. I hate running,
and I think he knew that too. In the end, I signed, but my life did not get
easier after that. The job was darker and more twisted than I ever could
have imagined, and after 75 years of hell, I’m relieved to have finally
reached the sweet release of death.
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