Morning was over before Angelica knew it. Most of the other clean-up participants had departed after an hour or two, with a large group currently having their hauls weighed for payment, eager to head to lunch with their well-earned cash. How desperately she wished that she could be among them, having never pushed herself beyond this amount of effort in the past.
She was tired and hungry, having already surpassed everyone else in the amounts of rubbish she’d bagged. It was sufficient enough work that she could be proud of her efforts, content with the amount of money made that day. But for whatever reason, she simply could not stop. Not for trying.
“Stop, please stop!” Angelica begged her body, quietly, so that no one would hear. But every time she tried to regain control of her actions, she was given the same response. Her mind would repeat a thought that she did not conceive of, at least consciously. It was in the voice of her inner-monologue, but in no way was it words she would ever use, as if her rationality was hijacked by an outside force.
[Named Contracts can only be terminated by the Summoner.]
What in the blazing hells did that even mean? Why would she force herself to acquiesce to some random rule her subconscious came up with without her consent? At first, she’d assumed her weird mental state was some lingering reaction to the paint fumes, and she had even eagerly leaned into the strange motivational power it provided. But now she was trapped, betrayed by her body.
That didn’t stop her from trying a few other things. Whatever rules the command was playing by, it would allow her to take slightly deviating actions as long as they followed the overall goal of trash collection. Anytime a bag was full, she could pause briefly to tie it up and unfurl a new one that she had stuffed in her pockets, and when she ran out entirely, it drove her toward the supply table to get more.
In an effort to leverage this, Angelica attempted to impede herself so she couldn’t possibly continue, but none of it worked. She tried to swerve her poking stick into one of the bags, to tear it and make it unusable, but her hand wouldn’t commit. Then she managed to kick off one of her shoes, hoping that would somehow disqualify the action, meaning she’d have to break the command to retrieve it or get a new pair. But not only did it keep her going despite her lack of footwear, her body even tried to collect the shoe as trash, nearly driving a hole in it. That became an entire effort and a half to get it back on as well.
At some point, when most of the other participants had left, the organizers had packed up the spare tools. So Angelica tried to break hers. Surely, if she couldn’t easily get a replacement, her body would allow her to stop. But even after she’d managed to wedge her trash poker, bending it to the point that it would almost crack, her instincts flared. They told her that if she lost her tool, the Contract would force her to continue with just her hands, so she abandoned that idea immediately.
Then she tried different phrases to get her actions to change. If she couldn’t get herself to stop, maybe she could order herself to take a break. “Go get lunch, and then you can keep going!” Angelica attempted to convince her own stubborn mind. But it responded with that same weird thought process, words that weren’t her own.
[Summoner Rank too low. Can only issue one Order per Contract.]
What the frits?! That idea was actually her own. The fact that it hadn’t worked sucked, sure, but there was another part that bugged her more. If I’m the Summoner after all, then why can’t I cancel this scuffing command?!
“Can you at least tell me how much more I have to go?” After the first time the prompt announced itself in her mind, it had never appeared again. She’d try to keep it going on her own, but quickly lost track somewhere in the thirties, and that was hundreds of pieces ago, it had to be!
[Current Contract: Pick up trash without stopping (647/1,000)]
That was actually somewhat comforting. It meant her current nightmare surely had an end, and she was farther along than her estimate. The afternoon passed, and the trash collector had given up trying to escape her fate. She was making continual progress, so Angelica had just accepted that it was easier to push through. However, the more time that went on, the worse that she felt.
Her legs and arms were aching, having not properly exercised them in some time. And in particular, her stabbing shoulder was really sore. Angelica’s hand holding the poker had surely blistered, feeling raw and tattered with every motion. She was tired and hungry, lightheaded from dehydration. Her one saving grace was that because her body was so empty, not once had she felt the need to go to the bathroom.
And at the peak of her frustration, just as the sun had started to set, another random thought surged to her attention.
[Transfiguration Lv.2]
[Beguilement increased]
“Oh, good, how does that help?!” Angelica uttered aloud, probably sounding like a psycho if anyone could hear her. However, despite the nonsense, some relief did come from another strange message not long later.
[Vigor increased]
Suddenly, her entire body felt just a hair bit better. All the pain toned down a peg, her exhaustion eased, the fog of her mind lifted ever so slightly. It was a second wind, if it could be called that, more like a sudden gust of air just to propel her one step further. “What am I at now?” she asked her evil subconscious that was thankfully at least keeping tally for her, the least it could do. Angelica had been trying to go decent stretches without asking repeatedly, since that only bogged her down more.
[Current Contract: Pick up trash without stopping (880/1,000)]
Maybe she could see this through after all. That wasn’t too much more. Well, not that she had much of a choice. It was either see the goal through or go until her body gave out and she collapsed. Earlier, that would have sounded fine, a forced nap in the grass to gain some strength back, but it would suck to be forced to stop so close to the end.
If she’d managed to continue at the pace of the morning, the trash-collector would have been done by now. However, the process had steadily been getting harder. She and the other participants had done too good of a job, and the rubbish was becoming more sparse and harder to find. As long as Angelica looked, she’d find more, often coming across sizable pockets still, but the amount of looking it took between each one was reaching depressing lengths.
“Don’t you think it’s time to wrap up for the day, Angelica?” Not long after her latest progress check, the same member of the staff approached her who had given her food that morning. In fact, she was the only one else around anymore, likely having stayed just for the final participant’s benefit, even picking up some trash as well, much to the scrounging scavenger’s chagrin.
“Ah, oh, sorry if you were staying on my account.” Angelica put as much energy and friendliness into her words as she could, trying to hide her rattled state. “If it’s alright, I’m going to keep going for a while longer. There’s a personal goal I’m trying to hit. You don’t need to wait up on me, though!”
Part of her desperately wanted to ask the woman for help, to cry for assistance, but the majority of what little brain power Angelica had left decided it was too much of a risk. If even she couldn’t get herself to stop, what would happen if someone else tried to intervene? Would her body merely pause until the impediment was gone, or would it take more drastic measures so that it would ensure it could continue? Her instincts were leaning toward the latter, and she didn’t want to find out what that measure would be.
“Well, if you’re sure…” The staffer still seemed a bit worried about her, but accepted. “I’ve gone ahead and gathered your bags for weighing, and I have your current pay.” She held out a bundle of bills, making Angelica’s eyes glint. That was the fruit of all of her labors, the hell she was still enduring, annoyed as her body forced her away to the next nearest piece of trash.
“This may sound weird, but would you mind putting it in my pocket for me? My umm, hands are pretty dirty and I wouldn’t want to touch yours.” The persistent worker came up with the most believable excuse she could think of. It was quite likely the truth, if that amounted to anything. She dreaded the state she would find her poking hand in when this was all over. Angelica could have asked for the bills to be placed on the ground, but if the manipulative force controlling her counted her shoes as trash, she didn’t want to risk her well-earned cash being skewered through.
“Al-alright,” the older woman agreed. But the participant didn’t make it easy on her, not stopping for a second or even slowing down. She sort of had to pincer Angelica by a tree and jut her hand into the tracksuit jacket at the last second before the girl moved away again. Thankfully, the padded lump felt well secured, so now it was at no risk of falling out or getting lost.
This time, Angelica genuinely smiled in appreciation, almost tearing up that at least something had gone her way. Hopefully, she didn’t come across as too rude for going back to work without another word.
“When you do finish up, Angelica, you can place your remaining trash and supplies under the tables. Since this was originally planned to be a two-day job, we didn’t break the set-up down. I’ve secured the tool locker, so if you wouldn’t mind, try to hide your poker under the bags so it’s at least out of sight.”
“Sure thing!” Angelica had to raise her voice since she’d gotten decently on her way in her hunt for more scraps.
“I’ll weigh the rest of the trash in the morning when we come to clean up,” the staffer continued. “We have your address on file, so I’ll stop by and place the remainder in your mailbox sometime this week. Or if I can’t find it, we’ll hold on to it until your next visit.”
“Thank you!” Angelica had to keep her appreciation quick, afraid that her words would come out squeaky. This woman was being so accommodating, causing a tinge of guilt to radiate within the girl, compounded even more that she couldn’t remember the woman’s name. Surely, she knew it at some point, likely back when she first started, but such seemingly insignificant information had long since slipped away.
“Ah, one more thing,” the genuinely kind person returned once more after the collector had thought her gone for good. “Unfortunately, all the food was claimed, but we did have one extra bottle of water.”
“Thanks again.” Angelica then realized she had to say more to avoid another potentially awkward pocket stuffing. “Mind setting it on the ground by the tree? I’ll have some in a bit.”
“Of course. Good night, Angelica.” With that, she really was alone this time, right as the street lights in the distance kicked on. It would be fully dark soon, making it that much harder to complete the “Contract.” She needed to hurry. But first, she needed to survive. There was a reason she’d asked for the drink to be placed on the ground.