At twenty-two-years-old, a journalist named Charles Munakata got a chance to improve his career by contributing to a project involving Soma, a tropical island occupied by scientists. While he was there, he learned some upsetting truths about the isl...
Apprehensive, I briefly held my clammy hands together and prayed to the gods. My heart beat rapidly as the elevator stopped.
The elevator door opened excruciatingly slowly. Once the door was wide open, I stepped out and headed toward the person standing to my left.
I approached the scrawny bespectacled man, who was at least five inches shorter than me. He had reddish brown hair and his long wavy bangs nearly covered his rectangular glasses. He looked into my eyes with his maroon ones as he spoke. "Oh." He hurriedly stuck his portable gaming system in blazer pocket. I didn't get a very good look at it, but I did notice it was a special edition. "Congratulations. I'm the Narrator, in case you couldn't tell. Right this way."
He lead me to a back room, which seemed to be a control room. Several televisions were lined up on the walls. On those screens was clear live footage of just about every room in the Facility. There was a desk visible upon entry, and someone was sitting there.
Narrator instructed me to stand in front of the desk. He had his own desk next to it, which was where he sat as he pulled out a box of colored pencils and a notebook. He turned the page to a detailed drawing of a Pomeranian dog with the name "Calypso" written in cursive on top.
As I looked over at Narrator, I noticed the silence between the three of us. My eyes darted to the older black-haired man sitting in front of me, who was staring at me intently. He seemed to be in awe despite the lack of emotion he showed. The overdressed man sat with his hands clasped and his fingers crossed as he quietly watched me with his deep emerald eyes.
"Aren't you gonna talk to him?" Narrator pointed out as he laid out a row of pencils.
The man returned to a normal sitting position and cleared his throat.
"Of course." His voice was moderate and surprisingly soothing. "Nice to meet you, Mr. Munakata. My name is Mr. Peterson. I am the CEO of EverStar Corporation. We don't usually choose people your age for this game, but one of my most trusted workers told me you needed to earn some serious funds. I'm willing to offer you those funds if you're willing to take a risk."
How does the CEO have time for this shit? I thought. Although that thought quickly faded as I began to realize what he was telling me. Mr. Peterson somehow knew about my financial issues, and I just hoped he wasn't about to use them against me.
"Was Allen Greyson the person who told you about my financial struggles?"
"Yes. He also told me why you need it. It's because of your ill mother and aunt, as well as college. Your family has to make sacrifices just to get by, correct? Not to mention those hefty student loans you will never pay off on your own due to those medical bills."
"Stop," I said in a brittle voice. He kept going, however.
"If you win this game, I will give you millions to get you back on your feet. With that kind of money, you would be able to transfer to Aspen University if you wished..." he trailed off.
I stood silently, disturbed as to how much he knew about my life. I had always dreamed of graduating from Aspen University, but I had no choice but to attend a community college. As for the medical expenses, I had already accepted that I would never pay it off, but the thought of being debt-free was exciting. I would do almost anything to make that a reality.
"Why would you give me millions of Nova? I'm a stranger to you..."
"I can't tell you right now. I will only tell you if you win this game and emerge victoriously." Handsome Mr. Peterson answered as he adjusted his squarish gold glasses. His calm voice conveyed more emotion than his face did, but it still wasn't much. "Do you accept this offer?"
"Please give me some time, sir-"
"Absolutely not. You must answer me here and now." He barked. "I must also inform you that you have to obey any command we give you. Which means reporting back here periodically to speak with one of us, among other things."
I took a moment to think it over. My life would change for the better, but only if I won. Mom could afford better medication and treatments, and I could finally attend Aspen University. How bad could this possibly be? I asked myself. If I won, I would be filthy rich, maybe even rich enough to send Morgan to college in the future. If I lost, however, I would be sent to Purgatory, where I would lose my mind and never see my family again. Just like that, I made up my mind. It was definitely worth a shot.
"I accept." I declared while avoiding eye contact with Mr. Peterson.
Mr. Peterson almost smiled as he looked up at my pale face. I kept my sight on his face rather than his eyes, and I noticed a gradual glow on his cheeks.
"We look forward to working with you, Chuck." He called me Chuck that time rather than Mr. Munakata for some reason. It made me uncomfortable once I remembered that I was the only contestant who was addressed by a nickname. It felt worse when I realized that the only people who were in control of the game sat right in front of me. Although, I shrugged it off as a result of being associated with a friend of the CEO.
Mr. Peterson opened a desk drawer and pulled something out. He held a book up in the air.
"I believe this is yours," he stated. Upon closer inspection, I could tell it was the book I had checked out - Precious to Me. I reached for my book, but he did the same as Allen and avoided me. He huffed as if he were amused, and set the novel down in front of him. "You can have this back when you win."
I sighed deeply at the introduction of the new incentive while Narrator paused his coloring to voice his opinion.
"Aww, that's kinda rude."
"Shut up." Mr. Peterson briefly turned around.
"I'm just saying. I would get upset if you did that to me." Something about Narrator's tone made him sound like a whiny little boy.
"This isn't about you. I am just doing this so he won't be distracted. He has to read the material for the quiz, after all." His myrtle eyes gazed at me sharply.
"Good luck, dude. You're gonna need it," Narrator told me. He picked up a cerulean pencil and colored with a back and forth motion.
"Now, for your first orders. When you return to the group, you must get all five to trust you. Children are easy to fool, so it shouldn't be too difficult."
"W-What exactly do I tell them?"
Mr. Peterson assumed a thinking position but was of no help. Narrator, on the other hand...
"Oh! I know. You could tell them that you'll send someone to rescue them after you win." He smiled sadistically. "They'll never see it coming." He giggled mischievously.
"If that doesn't work, we're blaming you." Mr. Peterson turned around again. "How does that sound, though?" He asked me.
"I, uh, I can do that. I think."
"Good. It's settled, then. And if all goes well, you will succeed. That is all for today, so please return to the Lobby." Mr. Peterson pulled a paper from a stack of paperwork on his desk. I watched as he sketched part of a word onto the blank piece of notebook paper. I was able to read the first three letters he wrote: H-A-L. I hoped to see the rest of the word, but Mr. Peterson shooed me away.
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I took the elevator back down and thought about how my future was on the line.
