CEO of the Dead

Chapter 4: The Mirror’s Debt

"They really went all out for my funeral," I said, looking at the black roses. 

"The Beaumonts love a good show," Thomas muttered from the corner. "And they love your money even more."

"They aren't getting another cent," I promised. 

The funeral was a joke. Every wealthy shark in the city was here. They were all pretending to care while they checked their stock apps. I walked through the crowd, my boots making no sound. I stopped in front of the massive gold-leaf mirror.

"You look like a man out for blood," Thomas noted. "I’m a man out for everything," I corrected.

I saw a familiar face in the reflection. It wasn't mine. It was Alaric. He was slipping into the back room with a tall man in a grey suit. The man had a silver coin emblem on his lapel.

"The Silver Circle," I hissed. "Stay back, Cyprian," Thomas warned. "That guy isn't normal."

"I don't care," I said, gliding through the heavy oak door.

Alaric wasn't crying. He was laughing. He held a glass of scotch and leaned back in a leather chair. 

"So, is the transition of power complete?" the man in the suit asked.

"Almost," Alaric said, grinning. "The lawyers are finalizing the signature transfers tonight. Isadora is handling the board."

"And the vessel?" The man asked. "Energy has a way of returning."

"He's dead," Alaric snapped. "I saw the bullet hit his skull. There’s no coming back from that."

"You used the relic, didn't you?" The man pressed.

"I did," Alaric said. "The price was high, but the result is a perfect silence."

"I want to tear his throat out," I growled, my blue eyes glowing.

"You can't," Thomas said. "You’re a ghost. You’re just air to him."

"How much to show myself?" I asked the system.

[Cost to Manifest for 3 Seconds: 100 Soul-Points.]

"I only have one hundred," I said. "That’s everything."

"Don't do it, boss," Thomas pleaded. "Save it for an emergency."

"This is an emergency," I said. "I want them to know the nightmare is starting."

I walked back out to the main hall. Isadora was standing there. She was talking to a senator. She was wearing a black dress that cost more than a small house. She looked like a murderer.

"It’s just so hard to process," Isadora told the senator. She dabbed her eyes. "He was my everything."

"You lying bitch," I whispered in her ear.

She shivered. She looked around, her eyes wide. "Did you hear that?"

"Hear what, Isadora?" The senator asked. "Nothing. I just need a moment," she said.

She walked toward the gold-leaf mirror. She wanted to check her makeup. I stood right behind her. My digital pulse was hammering.

"Do it now," I told the system.

[Expending 100 Soul-Points. Manifesting...]

The world turned cold. I felt my skin solidify. The blue glow faded into the pale color of a corpse. I was wearing the shroud from my empty casket.

The bullet hole in my forehead was wet and dark. Isadora looked into the mirror. She didn't see her own face. She saw mine.

"Cyprian?" She breathed. Her voice was a tiny, broken thing.

I leaned over her shoulder. My cold breath hit the back of her neck.

"Did you miss me, darling?" I rasped.

Isadora’s eyes rolled back. A strangled sound left her throat before she collapsed. She hit the floor hard. The guests rushed over.

"Isadora! Call a doctor!" Someone shouted.

My three seconds were up. I faded back into the blue mist. I felt weak and hollow. I leaned against the wall as the room erupted into chaos.

"That was amazing," Thomas whispered, looking terrified. "It was worth every point," I said, gasping for air.

Alaric ran into the hall. He didn't look at his wife on the floor. He walked straight to the mirror. He stared at the glass and touched the spot where my face had been.

"Alaric, she just fainted!" The senator yelled. "Help her!"

Alaric didn't turn around. He had a strange, hungry look in his eyes.

"So, the relic worked," Alaric said quietly.

"What?" I said, drifting closer. "What do you mean it worked?"

Alaric smiled. It wasn't a smile of fear. It was a smile of victory. 

"I knew you wouldn't stay in the dirt, brother," Alaric whispered to the mirror. "I was counting on it."

"He wanted this?" I asked Thomas. "He wanted me to become a ghost?"

"I told you," Thomas said. "The Silver Circle doesn't just kill people. They harvest them."

"He thinks I’m a tool," I said, my rage flaring.

"We need to leave," Thomas said. "They have ways of trapping spirits."

"Let them come," I said. "I’m the CEO. I don't work for anyone."

"Look at his hand," Thomas pointed. Alaric was holding a small, black stone. It was pulsing with a red light. 

"He has a piece of the code," I realized.

"And he’s using it to track you," Thomas said.

Alaric looked directly toward the corner where I was standing. He couldn't see me, but he knew I was there. 

"I hope you’re hungry, Cyprian," Alaric said to the empty air. "Because I have a very big job for you. If you don't do it, I’ll make sure you suffer for eternity."

"He’s threatening a dead man," I said, laughing. "He’s giving you an order," Thomas said.

I looked at Isadora. She was being carried away. Alaric didn't even glance at her. He just kept staring at me.

"I don't take orders," I said. I reached out and tried to grab the black stone, but my fingers passed through it. I was powerless.

"See you at the office, brother," Alaric said. He turned and walked away, whistling a tune I recognized. 

"We’re in trouble, Thomas," I said.

"No," Thomas said. "You're in debt. And in this world, debt is worse than death."

I looked at the mirror one last time. My reflection was gone, but the cracks remained.

"I’m going to kill him again," I promised. "And this time, I’ll make sure there’s nothing left to harvest.”