Experiment X

4 | N.2.

4 | N.2.  

    The only way she could describe this experience is as she was slowly running through a soft, screen of water. She feels unbelievably weightless, light as air and moving with an intense flight.   And then it is over. Emberly is staring into another powerfully fluorescent chasm of light. Had she even left her own? No.  

    She did. This place, somehow feels different.  

    “Who are you?” a sudden, inquiring voice says.   Emberly jumps, startled, clutching at her chest; she had nearly screamed.

    “Who said that!? Who are you!!?” She is taken aback by the amount of distress in her voice. “Are you the Voice? Are you him?”  

    “No,” the unseen voice says, this time with a hint of something vile in the way it was spoken. Some distaste. Emberly realizes it’s not the same voice; this voice is different. Lighter. Belonging to a male: a teen male. 

    “But I believe, I asked the question first.” At that moment, the boy materializes into thin air, sitting calmly straight ahead of her, against the far end of his intense white cell. Emberly is speechless; and she notices that he is dressed similarly as her except instead of a one tailored to his suit there is a two.  

    Emberly also catches the keen luridness of this boy’s eyes sweep over her and she finds herself blushing. The guy is kind of cute, she observes smiling, her mind drifting. Rich dark hair. Deep-set glinting eyes. A muscular body. Although his face is chiseled with high-cheekbones, there is something about it that seems to Emberly yet still boyish. So I’m not alone…There are Thirteen of us. This isn’t a lie…The thoughts stream through her mind.  

    “So you’re Number One?”   She blinks, realizing how long of an absence there had been without her responding.

    “No, I’m not,” Emberly hastily snaps.   “Well it says so on your suit.”  

    “I don’t care what the suit says,” she snaps back, fierily. “I’m not a number. I don’t know who I am, but I know I’m not a number. I can’t remember my name. Or anything for that matter…Can you?”   He shook his head glumly.

    “Nope, me either…So I’m guessing your ability is that you can travel through walls…Unharmed?”   “And I guess you can turn invisible?”  

    “Seems so…But that’s not all…”  

    “Yeah, same here.”  

    “What else can you do?”  

    “I can create fire with my hands…Beyond that…I don’t know. What about you?”  

    “Hm, fire, nice,” he comments, grinning, his cheeks dimpling. “Goes nicely with your hair.” He chuckles. “Maybe they planned that…”

    They, she thinks, pondering the word that could mean so much over in her head. He means the people watching us, behind all of this. Unseen.                  

    Emberly couldn’t help but offer a small smile. “Ah, yeah my hair,” she replies, stringing through it with a hand. “So what’s your others?”  

    “Well I really don’t know,” he says bluntly. “But I think I have a hunch. I keep on thinking the word protect for some reason. But nothing has happened yet.”                  

    “Oh, okay,” Emberly says, but thinks of something else that has been bothering her. “Do you…Do you think that all of this is real? I mean, actually happening? And we’re not somehow dreaming?”     

    Number Two makes a considering face, and says, “As far as I know, this is real. Unless I’m proven otherwise, I’ll accept this is as real. As reality.”                  

    “But how do you know? I mean, you don’t believe in this Tournament do you? That we agreed to all of this beforehand? The Voice has spoken to you, right?...That sounds so weird saying…The Voice has spoken…” Her voice wanders off, and she blinks waiting for a reply.                  

    “You like to ask questions, don’t you,” Number Two states slyly, cracking a smile.                  

    Emberly didn’t know whether to take that as an insult or as friendly banter, but she ignores him, and he continues:                  

    “Well to answer your first; I don’t know, honestly. This could all be made up. We could all be somewhere else in a different place with odd things strapped on our heads, making us believe we are here and all of this is real, but then again, where’s the fun in believing that?  

    He shrugs, and goes on, “And about the Tournament: I’m supposing we really don’t have a choice now whether we liked to be a part of it or not. We either signed up for it, like that Voice said, or were forced into it somehow…And yes he has spoken to me. I don’t like the sound of this Tournament at all…The idea of killing other humans…”                  

    “Yeah, I know,” Emberly sighs, smirking. “It freaks me out, especially since we’re all...different now. Having…powers like this. But like you said, I don’t think we have a choice in this: we’ll have to fight.”

    “That means, I’ll have to fight you. And you’ll have to fight me. Or worse, kill each other,” he states, now solemn-faced. “It’s even more awful now, since we know each other a little.”                  

    “Yeah,” Emberly mummers. “I shouldn’t be here.”  

    “None of us should be here,” Number Two says, weakly. “But here we are.”                  

    “I should go.”                  

    “Maybe. Who knows; they could be watching us right now, as we speak.”                  

    “Who?”                  

    “The Voice. And maybe others. You remember right?”                  

    “What do you mean?”                  

    “When the Voice spoke to you, he said we, in the plural sense right?”                  

    Emberly nods, beginning to comprehend.

    “Yep,” he says, “then there’s more of them. Has to be. And I bet—”                  

    An ear-splitting sound abruptly interrupted their conversation as the Voice made itself piercingly evident:                  

    “All Tournament-trainees please return to your quarters immediately, if you have wandered outside of them due to the discovering of your abilities.” And then as before, silence.                  

    “Where is it coming from? Are there speakers somewhere?”                  

    “I have no idea,” Number Two says. “Here, I know a lot less than I should. I think it’s the way they want it to be. With knowledge is control, and the less control we have, in their eyes, the better.”  

    “Wow,” Emberly says. That is deep. This kid is smart. Emberly makes a self-note that allying with him would be the best decision; there is just something about him. She feels a good vibe about this Number Two. She feels safe around him. More than anything she wants to stay here with this boy, talk to him more, learn more about him. But there is no time. “I guess this is it. I have to go.”  

    “Right,” he says shortly. “Goodbye.”                  

    Emberly smiles, but there is look of uncertainty in her eyes, as she turns around and looks back at him one last time. “Goodbye.”   Filled with overwhelming confusion, and anxiety, Emberly once more steps into the wall, vanishing through it, her hair trailing behind her like fiery wisps of smoke.