The Attic

Hey, everyone! Been a while, hasn't it? Well, vacation's over, so, without further ado, let's jump into The Attic.

Another day in the attic. The basement would’ve been safer, but Merritt was tired of the walls that surrounded him on every side. Much better to see the world – or what was left of it at least. Come to think of it, when was the last time Merritt had looked outside a window or his sorrow? The red-tinged sky still embodied the anger of a world that had cast him aside.

Well, not the entire world. Most didn’t know he existed at all. Merritt gazed out the window with irises of a dirty window forgotten by its owners long ago, red cracks forming at its seams. He felt… something. He had tried to repress it, forget it, raze it, but the feeling persisted.

Hope.

Hope that the world still retained some positivity toward him. Hope Incium would welcome him back with open arms. Hope that he wasn’t the cowardly traitor everyone accused him of being. The reverie was dangerous, but what did he have to lose?

The crash of the front door falling off its hinges shook him back to reality. The voice calling out kept him there.

“Grant? Are you there?”

The voice was low and calm, as if it had all the time in the world. Every single click of the freshly cleaned boots rang out, a gunshot in the silence, each one louder and louder until-

“Ah. There you are.”

Those eyes – black with flecks of white from a surgery gone awry – met his own with a deadly calm.

“You know, looking out a window isn’t the smartest thing to do when you’re a wanted criminal,” Tennent stated. “For a former Incium employee, this should be second nature to you.”

“I know and I did hide. 364 days, 12 hours and 56 seconds, Wetherby,” Merritt bitterly responded. “It isn’t easy counting the same number of patterned reeds, no matter the training.”

“Alright.” Wetherby’s tone was clipped; neutral. “Anyway, I’m asking you to come with me.”

“Come with you?” The tone was mocking. “You know as well as I do what awaits me the second I step foot out there. You were the one that put me in this predicament in the first place!”

“I was,” Wetherby muttered, as if ashamed. But that wasn’t real. Men like Wetherby never showed emotion. “However, things have changed, Grant. There’s been a revolution. It turns out, you were the first of many to be outed by Incium. October. Marilla. Me.” At Merritt’s disbelief, he grinned. “I never was the type of guy to lie, Grant. You know this.”

Merritt snorted. “Lie. You use that word ever so gently, Wetherby. You think you’ve planned this down to a science. You think that you, with your way with words and stretching of truths, can get me out on some kind of plea deal? I know what you did at Incium, Tennent. You were the Manager. The one on top. And you were the one to. Ruin. My. Life. You pressed a bogus tip into the Employee Management Chief’s hands, and because you were up top, nobody questioned you!” Merritt talked feverishly now, as if he was getting his words out before he met his end. “I had my life wrecked, eradicated by your inability to take blame, and you show up in this last haven for my tortured soul and expect me to go with you, as if you were nobody but another friend I could trust?! I won’t, Wetherby! I’m no longer tied to Incium. So leave, or do what you planned to do outside and dispatch me, your first and last loose end.” Merritt’s voice had trailed off into a low, cracked mess.

Wetherby stood perfectly still through the entire rant. The only signs of life, save for a few quick blinks, was the steady rise and fall of his chest, covered by a jet black suit.

“You’ve got it wrong, Grant. Incium really has fallen. Rufus, your cousin led the charge. He’s now the one on top. However, I can see that you don’t believe me yet, so let’s rewind to my “betrayal”. I didn’t send that tip in. You didn’t know this – you didn’t have the clearance – but I wasn’t at the highest position in the company. That was the Director. I still don’t know who he was and what his goals were, but I don’t have the power to arrest you on a whim. A Manager is simply a pawn in the hierarchy, so red flags would’ve been raised. As for the reason October, Marilla and I were fired, it was the same as yours. Tip from up top. Immediate termination.”

Tennent walked over to Merritt and stretched out his arm. On reflex, he flinched, but Tennent’s hand wasn’t meant for him. With a dexterous opening of the lock, Tennent swung the window open and pointed outwards. “And if you still don’t believe me, look outside. It’s what you came to the attic for, isn’t it?”

With hesitation, Merritt joined the chuckling Tennent at the window. It took a moment for his eyes to adjust, but when they did, the scene that struck him was fantastical. A crowd that could fill up Manchester Stadium stood outside the dilapidated relic of a house. Upon seeing him, cheers rang through the night sky, raising Grant’s mood with it. Leading the charge was his cousin, Rufus, the man who he had come to love as a brother. Grant looked out at the crowd, then, slowly, mimicked Wetherby’s bemused chuckle as he stared out at the night sky. He felt something he hadn't truly felt for a long time.

Hope.