Chapter Four - Prelude

Sebastian Vassinari

I laid in the darkness of my bedroom, my mind too awake for me to sleep. Questions whizzed about my mind, finding rest difficult. I don't know what it was that led me to believe the strange man, maybe it was because he knew things that he shouldn't have known, or maybe he had been spying on us for a much longer time, but every possible alternative, just led me back to believing his words. They held a certain, power, no, it was more akin to sorrow. That tone of voice was what led me to believe him somewhat. God's this is insane. I twisted on the bed, facing the door. In a bid to take my mind off of today's proceedings, I closed my eyes, and started to inhale and exhale out of my mouth. I focused on the fingertips of my right hand, producing a flame on each, no bigger than that produced by a cheap lighter. Keeping most of my focus on the flames, I moved my left arm upwards, willing my desk chair to follow. Which it did, for the majority of two seconds, before plummeting to the carpet below. The flames on my fingertips sizzled out as my concentration dropped. I breathed out heavily, the act taking too much out of me. Controlling one was easy, as if I had been doing it since I was born, but two was difficult. It took a lot out of me, which was the effect that I had hoped for as my mind had been cleared, allowing sleep to take over.

I bolted upright as a wailing sound shook my entire body awake. My hands instantly went to cover my ears on reflex, but the sound seemed to not be restricted by the simple attempt of blocking it out. I could feel every inch of me vibrate in tandem with the screeching. I looked about my room, noticing that my curtains had been shredded and laid amidst glittering shrapnel that used to be my window. Splinters of wood lay about where my desk and chair used to have been and I could see jagged cracks zigzag up the walls and across the ceiling. The door strangely looked untouched by the destruction. As I pushed myself off of my bed, the frame collapsed, but I didn't hear the sound over the horrific noise that seemed to be a culmination of every sound that existed. What is- I thought to myself before light beamed into the room. Isaac stood, covering his own ears, in the doorway. He wore the same clothes as yesterday, but they appeared more crumpled than they had been earlier. I made my way over to him, wary of the sharp glass underfoot.

"WHAT IS THAT SOUND! WHAT IS GOING ON!" I shouted as loudly as I could muster, but my voice easily succumbed to the screeching that ricocheted around my brain. As I reached Issac, he placed a hand on my shoulder, forcing my attention on him. I couldn't hear what he said, but I understood and nodded. Never use your power. He repeated himself a few more times, ensuring that I understood the message. He had lost the composure he held before. He seemed frightened, and that in turn, sent shivers down my spine as I caught what he muttered next. Why is it early?

Isaac Woodman

T2 2025 - The sound was both unrecognisable and recognisable at the same time. I had heard it only once before, twenty years ago now, but one never forgot this unbearable noise. It rattled my brain and I could feel a headache ease into my consciousness, even plugging my ears with my hands didn't make a difference. I made my way out of the barn, stumbling across the moist ground and entered the main house. Jacob and Henry were downstairs, trying in vain to cover their ears with their pillows. Luckily for Sebastian, his family were out of the house, which meant that his closest friends could stick by him. He had to leave the fighting to them, that was the only way this plan would work, but this changes things. I made my way up the stairs, ignoring the pained gazes of his two friends. I found Sebastian's room and flung the door open. We still had a few moments and I managed to say what I needed to say. Then the sound suddenly vanished, along with the colours that made the world. Sebastian disappeared from my side, dissolving into a fine mist of different colored dust. I looked around, the space in which I was standing seemed impossible, it looked as if I was standing on a cloud, my feet masked by a white haze that filled the room. Everything was the same shade of pure white, the ground seemed to stretch forever and the only thing that told me that this was in fact a room was a single solid black door that was located behind a singular figure. She was dressed in a black suit and white shirt, black trousers with black shoes. She was the epitome of the word businesswoman. Her hair however distracted me from thinking she was anything normal, it was continually changing colours, blonde to purple, to black, making its way through the colour spectrum, before repeating itself in a different order. 

"Good morning Mr Woodman," her voice echoed within my head as I made my way towards her. "I did hate having to wake you all up for this show, but our actors can't be late." She extended her arm and a sheet of golden paper materialised from within her gloved hand. My body moved like an autonomous thing, my mind already experiencing this many times before. I took the paper that she had offered to me and read it, already knowing what it would state.

~~~~~

The first trial

The actors awaken from their slumber.

The game has begun and those that don't panic begin to wonder. 

Why am I here? How do I leave? 

But only those that are patient don't encumber. 

Only then are their questions answered.

~~~~~

I read the page once more, my memory already knowing the answer. 

"I'm ready," I stated and the woman bowed as she moved to the side, gesturing to the door behind her. 

"Please remember to consult the script if you forget your lines." She said, her tone even as I passed her. The door slowly opened and I walked through it, seeing white before the world shifted around me once more.