👑CHAPTER SEVEN👑
•The Contract•

Rochester, New York🗽

12:00 a.m.

-Friday; midnight-

-Jack-

I traveled around Albany in the back of the taxi cab until I finally reached my destination. I hopped out and paid the driver; we shook hands and with a final farewell, he drove off into the night. The address brought me to a black and gold, two-story house; a bit too much for my taste but still something nice to look at.

I passed through the open gate, noticing the neatly cut grass, embedded with a garden of roses. It was a beautiful sight, nonetheless.

I stepped onto the porch and rang the doorbell, followed by gentle, repetitive knocks. I could hear the locks coming undone on the other side and then the door slowly started to open.

"Hi. Sorry about the late night visit, but I was wondering--"

I stopped after noticing that no one was standing on the other side. I found myself standing in the living room, alone. My ears were suddenly being tortured by the overwhelming sound of static. The terrible sound was caused by a small radio sitting on the living room table; I turned it off and decided to take a look around.

I poked my head over into the kitchen, hoping that the owner was just going to get me a welcoming drink but that wasn't the case, and still no one in sight. That wasn't the only weird thing about this place, unfortunately. I found family portraits hanging up on the wall and one on the floor surrounded by shattered glass. Weirdly enough, I also noticed each photo had one person's face cut out from the picture; by the looks of the bodies I would have to say it was the father.

I heard a noise coming from another area in the house.

"Hello? I found your flyer and I was wondering if I could use your services."

I walked over looking down the dimly lit hallway. There was a sudden "Bang" that nearly made me jump out of my shoes. I was cautious; I grabbed a broom from the kitchen then I slowly crept down the hall, the noise growing louder as I wondered onward.

I continued my investigation, which led me upstairs. The black walls made my surroundings seem even darker. In the back of my mind, I was starting to get the feeling that either this place was in the process of being robbed or I stepped into the home of a serial killer. The plus side: I'd be hard to spot in this dark suit; the down side: my shoes continued to click with each step as they made contact with the wood-tile floor.

I didn't notice it right away but there was ominous music playing in the background.

"Hello?"

I felt my foot bump against something and then I heard a loud "Snap". Almost immediately, the music got even louder. The lights began to flicker on and off rapidly and then suddenly I heard another "Bang" above my head. My eyes made contact with a small, square door, that I assumed led to the attic; the noise grew more intense and then everything mysteriously got quiet.

The lights stopped flickering, then they shut off again and I was surrounded by darkness. The attic door busted open and a dark figure fell down from the ceiling. My mind and body both struck by fear; I was completely freaked out. I stumbled backwards onto a wall; my heart racing, like a locomotive, inside my chest.

The figure hovered in front of me and I began to swing the broom without hesitation. I didn't care what it was, I only had one thing on my mind: don't let it get back up. I closed my eyes and pretended I was the next Jackie Robinson.

"Whoa, whoa, tiger!"

I ignored the voice and continued to swing.

"Hey, hey. I think you got him. Open your eyes, killer."

I opened my eyes and spotted a skeleton dangling in front of me by a rope; its limbs scattered across the floor. A guy with blond hair stood there with a smirk. I could see that he was holding in the urge to laugh.

"Ha-ha! I got you good."

"W-What--"

"Wow, you're shaking hardcore man. Sorry for the scare, I was saving that for someone else but I'd be lying If I said I didn't enjoy watching you nearly poop your pants; you should have seen your face, man."

He cut down the hanging skeleton and he dumped it in a nearby closet. He approached me and held out his hand. He phone rung and he answered. The conversation went on for a short while; each time he stopped talking, he would occasionally turn and look over and stare at me.

"Okay. Nice doing business with you."

He hung up his phone and began to walk towards me.

"Sorry for the wait. I had some business to take care of. The names Ronald, and you are?"

"Jack..."

My hands were still shaky from the scare but I shook his hand anyway.

"Ah. Nice to meet you and what can I do for you, on this fine night?"

"I-I found this flyer and I wanted to try it out. It says you turn dreams into reality; is that true?"

"Ah. Yes. Almost forgot I put that one out due to the lack of visitors, but I'm glad you've come to try out my services as my first customer. No offense, but you seem like someone in a desperate need of a miracle."

"I'm that easy to read?"

He shrugged his shoulders.

"More or less; everyone needs a miracle at some point in their life. Luckily, for you, you've come to the right place. Follow me."

He made his way up the ladder to the attic and I followed behind. He wandered off ahead; I heard clapping, then the lights shot on, revealing the contents of the room. The clutter of unopened boxes, various tools, and paint buckets left the floor barely visible.

In the middle of the mess was something like an office/meeting room; there was a desk and computer, file cabinets, charts, and a round table covered with paperwork.

"Busy guy?"

"Eh, something like that. I take a big interest in my line of work; having to relocate gets annoying but it has its perks."

"What do you do exactly?"

He ignored me and told me to take a seat at the table.

"So, what can do I do for you?"

"Well, I'm a prince and I--"

"Want a bigger house?"

"No--"

"A faster car? No, a bunch of new cars?"

"No, none of those things, actually."

"Well, spit it out, mystery man. I don't have all night."

I twiddled my fingers and spoke softly.

"Speak up, please."

"I sort of... I want to be handsome."

"Handsome? Sir, I am a legitimate businessman, not a plastic surgeon or a makeup artist."

"Please...I really need your help. I've been out all night looking for anything that could help me; I don't know where else to go."

"You have to understand that this is a pretty strange request for a prince, above all, if you ask me. Isn't being "handsome" like in the job description or something?"

I didn't expand on the topic. He sat in silence for awhile, thinking it over I assumed.

"Fine... I'll do it. Let me just get the contract."

He began to dig through the mountain-like, stack of paperwork.

"Contract?"

"Yeah, my dad just insists that I use them for everything, no matter how small the deal. But I guess that's how it is when you're the son of Rumpelstiltskin."

"Wait... Your dad is Rumpelstiltskin; the Rumpelstiltskin?"

"The one and only jackass himself..."

Ronald grabbed ahold of a rolled up piece of paperwork and removed the rubberband that kept the contents hidden. He rolled out the long contract onto the table; the sight of all the fancy wording and phrases was overwhelming.

"Oh, I don't know..."

"Look, you either want my help or you don't. I'm not like my father. I'm not after your soul, your child, or anything like that. I do this for fun, and to keep the lights on of course."

"Okay, but I don't have any money on me right now."

"Fine, I won't charge you upfront but I expect a check in the mail."

"I understand. So, what's the catch?"

"Smart man, most don't even ask, but believe it or not, there is no catch. Just the usual rules and procedures you must follow in order to keep the magical effects permanent."

"And how do I do that?"

"I'm glad you asked. Now, listen good, cause I'm only going to go over this once."

I crept closer.

"From the moment you sign the contract, the magic will take effect. You have from the moment you sign until 12:00; midnight the next day, before the magic vanishes."

"So how do I make it permanent?"

He sighed. "This is going to sound a bit cliche; I know it's been played out so many times and so many ways, but the only way to keep the magic permanent is to experience an act of true loves first kiss."

"True loves first kiss?"

"Yeah. Love and magic go hand and hand for reason. The details are probably better told from the Mother of Magic herself."

"I guess I'll never know then," I thought to myself.

"How will I know if the magic has turned permanent?"

He mumbled under his breath and then spoke louder.

"The effects are different for everyone. I guess you'll find out when--if you can fulfill your contract."

I thought about it for a second. The chances of kissing anyone is slim enough for some people, as it is, but in my case it has to be a kiss out of pure love from two people whose feelings are mutual. I've never been in love, or even a relationship for that matter, so how could I possibly have a chance? Do I even know what love is?

"The clocks ticking, Jack."

I know I don't have a chance in hell, but if I'm handsome, even for a day, maybe, just maybe that'll be enough to rid me of my disorder and keep me from landing in a mental hospital.

"Times up... What's your final decision?"

He held a black and gold pen out in front of me, waving it back and forth. I snatched the pen quickly and said, "Where do I sign?"

"Alright then. Let's do it!"

Ronald rushed over to his desk, he shuffled through cabinets for a while, then quickly returned with two tall, white candles and a golden goblet that he filled with a mysterious liquid. He pushed the mountain of paperwork off the desk and it all went flying to the floor.

He turned off the lights with a "Clap, clap" and then lit both candles. The glow of the flames struck the contract perfectly for the dramatic effect, I assumed he was aiming for.

"Drink from the golden goblet."

The goblet was sitting inbetween the two candles. I took a peek inside.

"What's in there?"

"Don't ask questions!"

I did as he said and took a sip from the golden cup. The taste was fizzy like soda but it had a weird after taste that I just couldn't put my finger on.

"Now, sign the contract."

I began to sign my name on the dotted line below. The pen seemed to get heavier, the more I wrote. Immediately after I wrote the final letter, I felt a strange feeling rush through my body.

My signature lit up gold and continued to get brighter until the light was blinding; I jumped backwards in my seat, falling hard onto the floor as the light literally blew up in my face. I began to feel light headed and the inside of my chest was aching and burning, like I had been struck by a heated dagger.

My vision began fading in and out; the last thing I could see was Ronald standing over me with a smile on his face, holding the contract in his hands.

"You've got yourself a deal."

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