The Conversation-Epilogue

Once I reached the decision to play along with the Director and take the money he was offering, the rest of that meeting was fairly unremarkable in the content of our conversation. It was, however, very revealing in terms of the documents I was given to review and in some cases sign.

The first revelation came when he gave me a thick memo to review that discussed the training regimen that we had participated in up to that moment, including all of the nutrient supplements that we had been given. These supplements were apparently designed to make certain chemical changes in our bone structures as well as our muscle and nervous systems. I had noticed that over the course of the previous year or two, that I had gained about 20 pounds. Strangely though, my clothes seemed to fit, with only slight adjustments needed in a couple of my smaller suit coats and dress shirts. My shoulders were bigger and my muscles did seem denser. I noticed that the regimen would become noticeably stricter in the coming months, which didn't sit well with me at all.

The next surprise came when he presented me with a schedule, showing the tentative dates for me to make certain trips to a location in Hialeah, Florida, a small suburb of Miami in Dade County that is home to perhaps the largest proportion of non-native born people in the United States, mostly Cuban ex-pats. When I questioned him on the reason for that location, the Director just smiled that evil grin of his and said that one of the experts needed for the spiritual preparations lived there and that he didn't like to travel much.

(I can tell you, that THAT guy was even scarier than Drake...even if he did appear to be a spry little old man more likely to be doting on grandchildren at first. He earned his nick-name, El Diablito-the Little Devil, when he put on his magickal personna. He wasn't Hispanic, but he did have an almost imperceptible accent when he got excited. He ran a small, rather specialized shop in a warehouse district of Hialeah that sold magickal supplies and implements catering to Santeria and Voudoun practictioners in the area. I don't know what the name of the store is now, since he has since sold it and moved away, but when he owned it, it was called NextWorld, Inc.)

Finally, the Driector presented all sorts of forms that appeared to be the actual contract, only it was about twenty pages long with extremely small type. The legalese on this form could choke a lawyer, be I read through the entire thing, making his ass wait while I asked questions to clarify points. He smiled with each answer and that little glow in his eyes growing just a little brighter as I flipped each page after initialling off on it.

Turns out that the deal seemed awfully good when I read it, and who knows, how can I really complain when here I am, over a year after I was killed, telling you all about it?

Well, we'll answer that question together over time as I grow into this new existence and share with you my experiences. So far the results are mixed at best.

I think that just about wraps up this crucial conversation with Drake. This was my first hint at the darkness that lies beneath that cold, evil smile of his, but it wasn't until fairly recently that I have really soured on the bastard, seeing him for the evil little prick that he is. Somehow, I wouldn't put it past him to have had a hand in my death....but if he did, he has hidden it well.

I can tell you, however, that I will never stop looking into what happened that night, and if I find out that he, or anyone else in this program had a hand in that, they had better watch out!