By Alec Mustafayev
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[CHAPTER 3]
Or was there? “Are you sure she’s the one?” A woman’s voice asked, “She has no training at all.” “She is highly skilled with firearms, which makes her an excellent candidate if she accepts the mission,” said a man’s gravelly voice, “As for the training, we can sort that out as time goes on. There’s only so much time for us to work with. Either way, it’s too late to go back now.” I heard the footsteps of two people walking around me. My eyeballs were racing as I tried opening the lids. “What a wonder!” the gravelly voice said, “Alex, your work looks like a success!” “Really? Should I… Should I open her eyes?” “Go ahead.” Cold fingers slid my eyelids open. My vision cleared as she stepped back. She was young and olive-skinned. Her otherwise straight espresso hair curved around her glasses. It wrapped around her head, extending to her shoulders. She wore a white button-up with a black dress visible under her collar. She looked at me with her paleish-brown eyes and mouth wide open. To her right stood an older, groomed man in a black dress suit with brownish-black hair. He looked up at me with his serene-= colored eyes, fascinated. Even though he seemed young, the hair around his sideburns was greying. His straight puffy hair poked outwards like a hedgehog. His skin also appeared a bit wrinkled. “Marvelous work.” She said, “Let’s head to the observation room. This isn’t a complete success yet.” Somehow, she looked familiar, and so did he. My eyes darted toward the wall opening up and a bright windowed corridor stretching beyond, with windows through which the sunset shone. The woman exited through the opening. The man started to follow but turned around and returned to me. “Everything’s okay. In a moment, I’ll get you walking out and about. Just hang on.” “Tyler, I can’t start running the tests with you in there.” “I’m coming!” The opening in the wall was sealed as though it hadn’t beenthere. I was left alone, paralyzed, trying to understand where I was. This didn’t make sense. I should have died from that stab wound. Was this just a dream as I bled out in the alley? I felt myself die! Even if I had survived, I would be in a hospital bed, not wherever this was. This place was an empty, windowless room with gray padded walls forming a square. Among the ceiling padding were circular LED lights distributed in rows of three, their light reflecting off the white tiled floor. My thoughts were interrupted by the sound of the loudspeaker turning on. The man said, “Do not be alarmed. I am about to give you the ability to move. All I ask is that you do what I say. We are going to have you complete a series of simple tests. The faster you do, the faster we can be on our way.” As he said this, I felt the tension all over my body disappear. I stretched my arms to catch myself as I fell forward. I fell on my hands and knees. Remembering what happened, I immediately looked down at myself. My entire body, from the neck down, was covered in a black jumpsuit. Grabbing at the area where I had been stabbed, I was surprised that there was no sign of a wound. I pinched the fabric covering me. “Please refrain from tampering with your clothes,” the woman said. The sound of a door sliding open in front of me drew my eyes up to it. “Please proceed into the room before you,” said the man. If it meant figuring out where I was, I would do it. I stood up and walked to the next room. The wall slid closed behind me once I walked through it. A square black metal table was in the room, big enough to seat someone on each side, with just one small grey wooden marble on it. A black X was marked on the floor in duct tape, and a garbage bin stood a few feet away. “Now listen to my instructions and follow them precisely,” said Tyler. “I want you to take the marble on the table, stand on the X, and throw the marble into the bin.” “Why do you want me to do this? Who are you? Why are you keeping me here?” I failed to cry out. “You shouldn’t try to speak right now,” Alex said. “Just follow our instructions, and we will get your voice working in no time.” I didn’t have a choice, so I did the only thing I could and picked up the marble. I centered my stance on top of the X and concentrated on the bin. I was never a math genius, so I was surprised when dozens of calculations, graphs, and equations began streaming through my mind. I couldn’t believe what was becoming apparent to me. Somehow, I had become capable of mathematically calculating the exact arc I would like to form by throwing the marble. Doing this, I could easily deduce how to best pitch the marble to have it land in the bin and execute the throw flawlessly. Somehow, I could even understand that I was capable of this, despite never having done it before. I could tell the bin was about 3 yards from me from sight alone. It was even stranger since I rarely use yards for measuring. 3 yards is equivalent to 9 feet. I simply calculated how to throw the ball using a parabola. I could use each unit on the x and y axes to represent one foot. I could use the formula Ax² + Bx + C to calculate the marble’s path, knowing that the top of the bin is located at (1, 9) and my hand at (4, 0), where the ball leaves my underhand throw. I set A equal to -0.037, B equal to 0, and C equal to 4. The final formula came out to -0.037x² + 0x +4 {0 <x <9}. I reeled my hand back as I looked directly at the bin and threw the marble. It clanked the rim audibly and fell straight in. Ting! Another wall slid open. “Please continue into the next room,” said Tyler. With no other options, I ambled through the opening, which closed behind me as soon as I passed. In the center of this room stood a black metal table similar to the one in the last. However, this table was much smaller. Only one foot long in length and width, it appeared. From its center erected a square pole extending up into the ceiling. It seemed that this pole was placed to hold still an object suspended around where my chest was. If I didn’t know better, I would say that the thing being held was an iron skillet, minus the handle. “What I’m about to say may seem a bizarre request,” said the woman. “You’ve noticed the disk being held in place by that table and pole. You may be hesitant, but I ask that you strike the disk with your full force.” I touched the disk with my fingers. Even through the jumpsuit which covered my hand, I could feel the cold metal. Strike it with my full force? Was she insane? My knuckles would shatter on impact! “Don’t hesitate,” said the man, “I assure you, no harm will befall your hand from hitting it. In fact, I think you’ll be quite pleased with the outcome. We’re almost done here. The sooner we finish this, the sooner you can be discharged.” What he was telling me made absolutely no sense, given everything I knew. Then again, neither did any of this. After being stabbed, I walked around and interacted with my environment without issue, and I would be discharged soon. Christy must be so worried. She might have even called my parents. I hope Sam isn’t scared for me. Regardless, after what happened that night, all I wanted was to know I hadn’t lost them. If getting to that moment meant a broken hand, it was nothing compared to what I’d been through. With a final moment of consideration, I reeled back my hand and launched my fist towards the disk in front of me. I instinctively shut my eyes and turned my head as my fist flew through the air, preparing to receive a massive shock of pain. My eyes, instead, shot open. SCREEeeEAAAM! Turning my head back towards the disk, I saw a piece of torn metal hit the floor and once again believed I was dreaming. TING! My fist, somehow, had passed cleanly through it. With a piece from its center lying on the ground a few feet away, the disk itself rested on my forearm, stuck through the hole in its center. Looking down, I saw that the table had fallen over from my strike, the pole that stuck out of it having disconnected on impact. I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. I would feel afraid if not for the fact that this new strength appeared to serve a huge benefit. Frankly, I didn’t know how to feel. I took the disk off my arm alongside the pole it came with and threw them on the ground. What the hell did these people do to me? As incredible as these superhuman abilities were, why had I gained them after my stabbing? Showing basic politeness, I kneeled over to pick the table back up. Strangely, its underside was reflective, almost as much as a mirror. As I put my arms around the table’s sides, getting ready to lift, I saw something in the reflection. It looked like a creature, moving around in bizarre, snappy motions. Quickly, I shot my head around to look behind me. I was ready for a fight but was met only with the padded walls I was getting used to. Confused, I slowly my head back to the table. 𝘊𝘭𝘪𝘤𝘒𝘓𝘪𝘤𝘒𝘭𝘐𝘊𝘬𝘓𝘪𝘤𝘒𝘭𝘐𝘤𝘬𝘭𝘪𝘊𝘬𝘭𝘪𝘤𝘒𝘭𝘐𝘊𝘬𝘓𝘪𝘤𝘬𝘊𝘭𝘪𝘤𝘒𝘓𝘪𝘤𝘒𝘭𝘐𝘊𝘬𝘓𝘪𝘤𝘒 I felt small pops in my neck as I turned. They sounded like gears. Within seconds, I understood what the reflection had unveiled. What I saw in my reflection was not human; it looked like an amalgamation of scrap metal. It took me a few seconds to grasp that I was looking at myself. I looked like some kind of machine. My face was put together with metal parts, and my eyes looked like camera lenses. If I were able to scream, I would have. I must have fainted because I fell onto the floor. I couldn’t breathe. I wanted to stop this. Whatever I found myself in, I wanted to stop it. Tyler and Alex rushed into the room and helped me. Alex took a syringe filled with clear liquid and injected it into my head. I’m thankful for whatever it was. I fell asleep. — End of Chapter 3 — Previous page
