Chapter 2
Oblivion
If I don’t make it out of Oblivion, I’m dead.
One hundred of us in here did not find favor with a Patron. Only one of us can make it to The Commons. It has to be me.
This is how us poor people make it against these elites. I mean middle class. Crap, I hate that I keep calling myself poor. I’m not poor.
My dad used to be a millionaire back when he worked as an international medical consultant in Geneva and Port Harcourt.
And he reminds me of that every single day.
America liquidated him. Well, coming back to America.
If I disgrace him and amount to nothing, there goes a billion.
I am his investment. I can’t afford to be stupid. No pressure at all.
My mom is also freakin running for governor and doing well at that! My mom also doesn’t know I’m here. Neither does my dad. But let’s not talk about that.
Upon stepping out, red liquid drips on the ground and to my shock, I see Xexe stabbing herself. I sprint to stop her, my fingers gripping the dagger as she shakes in spasms falling to the floor.
“No, Xexe. No! Please don’t die.”
“Make it in for all of us. Do it for me,” she says, holding onto my hands.
“No. No. No! Why? Why, Xexe? Why?” I cry out as she shakes her head, and her eyes close.
God Almighty.
I know why. Before the game even begins. She would rather die than see her parents’ look of disapproval for not becoming common. She told me her parents were cruel. And they promised to do terrible things to her if she returned without being claimed.
These are the lengths many will go to have their children be selected into The Commons.
Now there are only 99 of us. Oh my God. My throat is dry.
I can’t breathe. She is… she was my friend.
The proctor pulls me away and pushes me toward the line.
Most people will eliminate themselves before The Commons ever does.
My eyes dart up. I have to survive.
Screw power. I’m fighting for my sister. And that’s more than life and death to me.
I knew once I started this Common Application there was no going back. I would not back down now. This plane is the biggest city I have ever been in. It keeps getting bigger and bigger.
Upon arrival at a giant metal black door, I look to see a blinking note on a mirror.
Apparently, we simply have to convince The Commons that our mind is compatible with those who have already made it.
Simply think the same as everyone else. Easy peasy, right?
Cut my head open and you’ll know how easy it is for me to think the same.
Not sure what that means except what the rules state—we can’t verbally speak.
I proceed toward a small black dwarf-sized door.
I bend in order to fit through it. Upon entering, I adjust my armor and walk into a large, dimly lit cave-like auditorium with white circular lights on the floor.
It feels as if I am entering into a creature’s stomach.
The creature’s stomach is frightening, and I am trapped and there is no going back as the door behind me closes.
Around me in the distant stands are those tall, muscular beings I saw earlier along with ten others.
Ten are in white, the other ten are in black.
The one who sentenced me here is one of the blacks. Like his dark, cold heart.
He is talking with another one whose eyes turn and merge with mine.
His hair as dark as the night, his eyes as light as the sea, his jaw as sharp as ice and his gaze as cold as a dangerous animal that will kill you and snap your neck into two repeatedly just for fun.
His black attire has silver stripes. I snap out immediately.
This must be Patron Lenon. No one has to tell me, and he smirks as though anticipating seeing me ripped to shreds before him.
I am going to be fine. I am going to be fine.
I repeat. Why is it that all of the greats have to come to play today? When I needed them all to stay away.
I try to focus, turning away from them. A voice echoes, “We only have one spot left. Consider yourselves lucky to have been selected.” Very lucky…
The voice continues, “The first stage starts now. If you can move your feet, you found favor with the Patron who examined your mind voice and sentenced you here. You may leave this arena and return home.” Oh my world.
For a moment I contemplate it. “So, leave,” the voice says.
“Before I shut my door. Before I swallow you whole.”
What on earth?
Thud! The doors slam shut and gasps emanate.
The sound of running breaks out as three or four students zoom to the door.
My feet try to move but they’re stuck to the ground.
Of course, I didn’t find favor with the Patron.
Other students are stuck at various places along with me.
Suddenly, the boy from before grabs a dagger from his pocket and chucks it at another student who falls to the floor in a pool of blood.
Oh my God. He grabs another and begins throwing it.
I notice his bag of daggers as he begins hurling them at everyone.
I duck to escape my looming death. God Almighty.
Patron Lenon’s eyes dart up and he doesn’t seem to like the killing any less than Patron Pesh who stares with a stern glare.
Just as the boy aims a dagger toward me, Patron Lenon shoots an arrow at him, instantly killing him.
My heart caves in, and I gasp in shock as the dagger slashes my shoe and blood drips from my foot.
Urgh, but it’s just a nick. I could have died!
My eyes collide with the silver Patron who turns away in disdain.
He clearly just killed that student because he wanted to. Oh my world.
“Order,” the voice bellows. “One of you will make it. All of you do not need to die. You kill, you will be killed. This is just a selection. All you need to do is simply stick to the rules.”
I have no clue what the rules are. They did not give us any. At least no one gave me any. I am panicking down to my bones, my chest is rising exponentially under my skin.
The lights blink, turning off and on, and whispers erupt. At least one of my classmates is still present. Maybe others. And so is a blonde, curly-haired girl whose eyes meet mine.
Just then, I hear a strange sound like a buzzing breeze.
The wind hums, swirling around in symphonies yet to be seen.
The wind is swinging to sweep me off my feet, but my feet are still stuck to the ground, unmovable.
Something is looming on the horizon. My eyes squint to see a red circle, like a stop sign.
And the stop sign is alive, and the stop sign is blinking.
And the stop sign is moving and glaring into my entire being.
Could it be an eye? Before I can beg my feet to escape, a red and green vapor swirls around me, violently swooping forward and charging my hair backwards.
A face falls flat to the floor beside me.
“Arghh!” Another boy runs out and escapes through the shape-shifting doors. How come he gets to leave, and we don’t?
Whispers echo around me. I read on the blinking sign that this is the part of the test where we can speak softly.
What the bloody heck is that? I look up to see it as whispers follow.
“A dragon reptile!” someone says.
“The Commons mascot in the flesh,” another whispers.
As tall as a building, the monster looks too real to be robotized. With green eyes as big as a blood-red moon and a viperous gaze that screams of terror. What on earth?
“This is The Powers That Be if I’ve ever seen one,” the curly girl comments.
I read on the blinking note that this part of the test is apparently called fear language. We are simply not allowed to scream. Maybe that’s why that boy was allowed to leave? I press my lips to stop myself from becoming triggered.
The proctor’s voice buzzes alongside the wind. “There are seventy of you left. Only the one it selects will fight it.”
I gulp. Please don’t select me. Please don’t. Its meteorite-like feet dig into the ground, causing everyone to shudder in fear. The sound of feet shaking clatters beside and all around me.
Suddenly, the lights turn off completely and sprinting sounds spread throughout the room.
I can see the darting blue eyes of Patron Lenon shining even through the darkness.
How on earth? I push my feet violently to try to run, but I’m not able to.
I pull and shove my body with everything in me, but I’m not able to move.
The lights come back on in a dim green circle this time, and I look to see everyone else is gone. Except me. The creature picked me.
Crap. Crap. Crap!
Its snake-like voice echoes in a slithery sound, surrounding my ears and stinging my skin in a strike. “Shantavia Lerogaski!” it calls my name.
Why does that voice sound familiar but in snake format? This monster couldn’t have been engineered from a voice I’ve heard before, could it?
“You are my chosen one. You think you can kill me, don’t you?”
When the heck did I think that?
“Well then, kill me!” It laughs, crowding me.
Water clouds my eyes, fear sprints through my veins. Somebody remind me why the heck I am here? Levon, why did you have to come to this bloody deathly school?
“You have two options,” the creature says. “One, run. You’ll have three seconds. If you do, you fail this test.”
Crap!
“Second option. Stay. Fight. If you win, you win my heart, Gaski!”
Gaski? Why is it calling me that?