The Test
I stood still, clenching my fists so hard my nails pressed into my palms as I forced myself to activate this stupid curse and, partially, a blessing.
It had been unstable ever since that day… the incident.
Images from that night in the facility flashed in front of my eyes as I tried to turn on this stupid ability.
Horror. Begging.
A simple motion of jab.
I let out a deep breath.
"Work. Just work, you stupid-. "
The watchful eyes of the three silhouettes quickly shut the whispering words I was saying to myself when I heard one of them 'oh.'.
When I opened my eyes, I saw a nod of approval from one of them.
I looked down, noticing I was fully invisible by now. Even I saw nothing but the concrete ground beneath me
Relief washed over me for successfully turning on my ability.
My hands uncurled, and I flexed my fingers to make sure I could feel them.
The fear of losing control over my body when in this state has been eating away at me.
That one day, I would be completely invisible to the world.
"Amazing," the man with the raspy voice expressed.
Just then, another silver robot entered from the side door. It was made by Starlight Tech though slightly different from the one I met outside. This one was more rounded than boxy.
It rolled toward me so quietly I hadn't even heard it enter from the side door.
It carried a tray which had a wide variety of weapons that I was not capable or prepared to handle. Star-shaped things, curved things, things that absolutely looked illegal. I didn't even know the names of.
"Pick one and show your skills," the man with a deep voice said.
I swallowed once again and hovered my hands over the small weapons that could fit in one's pocket.
Knife.
I could handle a knife — like in the kitchen. Though this one looked more… professional.
I was just hoping for the best at this point.
As soon as I picked up a knife, he pressed a button; five mannequins rose in a straight line at eye level. They looked odd.
Weird even.
"You must destroy them while avoiding the machine gun."
"Machine gun!"
I repeated loudly. I wasn't sure if I heard them correctly at first, but now I was sure; they said machine gun. It seemed like I was too loud, as they had to assure me.
"Don't worry. The guns won't actually cause you any pain."
I stared at them, still not believing what they were saying. They will surely not hurt a civilian, right?
The knife I held in my hand remained visible to the eyes of those watching.
Two machine guns propped up from the ground on both corners of the stage like the mannequins did before. And didn't waste a single second before it began shooting. What was it aiming at?
I remained still in the middle of the stage, wondering whether it detected movement? Did it detect heat?
If that was the case, then I faced doom.
Taking the chance, I threw the knife towards the far left mannequin and punctured it; I rolled over towards the damaged fabric to pull out my knife.
The gun fired in my direction.
Amidst the action, an idea popped into my head. I threw the knife onto the second to far right mannequin before crawling my way over to it.
I was hoping - Oh who was I kidding?
I was invisible; they couldn't see me. So I took my chance—crawling my way toward passing this interview.
I reached up for the mannequin right next to the one I attacked first; I reached up and twisted its head off.
Not the best quality dummies I have seen. The fabric that was used to make them, and the threads that attached the limbs, made it easy to pop off the head.
Bang
The gun fired again, and I used the twisted-off dummy for protection and moved my way over to the third mannequin in the row. The guns fired at the third mannequin and… rice spilled.
Rice?
Dummies are filled with rice?
Seriously?
Pow
My stomach dropped.
It took me far too long to realize the bullets punctured a hole in the fabric.
The bullets are real…
They are real.
Panic set in.
They were lying. The ones with such a big name attached to them… were lying.
It would have been shocking - but sadly it wasn't.
I pulled the knife out of the fourth mannequin; I hurled it towards the last dummy.
Just as a single grain of rice spilled out — the guns turned off and disappeared under the floor - the ones they came up from.
The action was over.
Finally.
I took in deep breaths, trying to catch my breath while they discussed something.
Something I couldn't hear.
I was busy collecting my composure.
My chest tightened as they discussed something among themselves, leaving me in the dark. What were they saying? Was something amiss?
Minutes passed before they finally spoke up.
"Thank you for coming."
The soft voice said, which made my heart drop.
Was that all? Just that. Thanks for coming.
I forced a smile behind my mask - not that they could see. I nodded my head, walking off to the side of the stage where I had dropped off my handbag before picking it up.
"Right. Thank you," I muttered, walking off to the door on the other side which was marked as exit.
Thanks for coming. Thanks for almost dying.
I fiddled with the stapler in my hands while I leaned back against the backrest of my chair. My computer screen remained turned off, not in the mood to look at my screen; to look through information I collected for an upcoming article I have to submit in a few days.
Zia… Zia…
"Zia!"
I snapped back to reality as someone called out my name. I immediately sat up straight - afraid that the director was watching from one of his hidey-holes.
But it wasn't the director; rather, it was Hank.
Just Hank.
"What's on your mind?" he asked, making me stiff. I couldn't outright tell him about the fiascos from earlier this morning. I cleared my throat, thinking of an excuse.
"Nothing. Just bored out of my mind," I replied, leaning back against the chair. Just then, an enormous stack of files landed on my desk. I immediately sat up, startled.
"Bored, huh?"
I looked up to see that it was the director. Grant Sterling.
I cleared my throat, sitting up straight while Hank just walked away as if he had no part in this.
He could have at least warned me that this asshole was coming around, giving more work to his poor employees.
"I asked you something, Ms. White," he repeated. I shook my head, putting the stapler back down on the desk.
"Huh? What?" I asked, looking up at him, giving him a confused look. I swear I saw his temple twitch.
"Funny," he said sarcastically before patting the stacks of files he brought. "Get to work."
I held back the urge to roll my eyes when he walked away.
I looked at the stack of papers.
My night would be spent here — In the office.
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