Page 119 of Heartless Legacy

Iwake with a pounding headache, my body awkwardly draped over a narrow metal bed. The pain in my lower back tells me I slept in this position for a while. I roll onto my side, then sit up in bed, taking in the muted white walls and ceiling. It’s a cell. Maybe not the metal box kind from jail, but the small dimensions and scarce furnishings are the same, despite the bed having a halfway decent thread count on the sheets.

I’m alone in the room, my pockets empty, and my brow and tongue piercings are missing, but my laces are still in my sneakers. That’s something. Not that there’s anyway to use them to aid in my escape. My mind works over the last thing I remember. I was on campus, getting out of my car, and a security guard I didn’t recognize was on patrol. He asked me for my student ID. His ring poked me when he handed it back, then… nothing.

I close my eyes, doing a mental check of my body. Other than the stiff neck, back and shoulder, I’m fine. I don’t feel sluggish. I’ve been here long enough for whatever they used to knock me out with to work its way out of my system.

The camera above the door blinks red. They’re watching. Knowing that, doesn’t stop me from walking over to the doorand trying the handle. I’m surprised when it twists and swings open into another room. One that reminds me of the visiting rooms you see inmates in on television. There are other doors around the perimeter of the room. One of them is the way out.

A door to my left opens. I spin around, guard up. I relax when Finn strolls out, eyes gleaming like he’s ready for a fight. “Any weapons?” I ask.

“They got them all.” Pointing to the doors, he asks, “Any guesses on what’s going on, and which one of these rabbit holes is the way out?”

“Not yet.” Moving to another door, I find a bathroom. The one after that is another room with a bed.

“Only two doors left.” Finn says walking towards the one on the left. It opens before he can reach it. He takes a step backwards and says, “I guess the fun’s about to begin.”

The woman at the door is wearing black boots, pants, a fitted shirt, and a weapons harness. There are no identifying patches or insignia anywhere on her. Is this a kidnapping or a challenge? “Let’s go.” She says. When neither of us moves, she adds, “You can walk, or get dragged where we want you to go. You tell me which one you prefer.”

There’s a rumbling sound. Misty vapors seep through the vents on the ceiling. Answering for us, I say, “We’ll walk.”

To plot our exit, we need to see where we’re going, which we can’t do if we’re unconscious. At the end of the hall, there’s another door. The man standing in front of it opens it and says, “Let’s go.” Out walks Pax, hands zipped tied behind him, looking like he just went a few rounds with Muhammad Ali.

“You okay?” Finn asks as we get closer.

“Yeah.” Pax grunts. “Fuckers jumped me at a race. You?”

I tell them I was on campus and Finn says, “They grabbed me out in the Annex. Shit. Thea was there.” His head whips left to right as if looking for her. “Did they get her too?”

Pax growls, “If she’s hurt-”

The woman leading the group cuts him off. “What? What’ll you do other than whine and bitch about it? Don’t waste your time or your breath with idle threats. Just stick to worrying about yourself. It’s what you’re good at.”

The last part is spoken with such certainty and conviction, as if she’s someone we’ve disappointed so many times in the past.

The next room we’re put in has four walls and a ceiling, and rubber inflatable chairs. “What the hell is this place?” Finn asks, kicking one of the chairs.

A different door opens from the other side of the room. The man entering tells us, “This is our trivia room.” He points to the inflatable chairs. “Would you like to sit?”

None of us move to do so. He’s unbothered by our rejection of his hospitality. “Suit yourself.” He gestures to the wall and a voice projects into the room.

Reality is an illusion. That keeps us in chains. How far will you go? What are you willing to risk? For freedom and truth.

Pax and Finn stand taller. This is the message that’s been randomly popping up on my Prospectus account and server on the dark net since the fall. Looks like they’ve been getting it too.

“Finley Jefferson Rhodes the Third, Paxton Cox and Holden Sullivan. You’ve been selected to take part in a very important challenge. One that has the potential to change the trajectory of the rest of your lives. A challenge that will test everything you’ve learned. Everything you know. A challenge that will lead you to a truth that few others know. A truth that most will refuse to acknowledge.”

“What’s the challenge?” I ask.

“You are challenged to readjust your thinking. To be open to new ideas. To choose.”

Finn says, “That’s a whole lot of double talk and you haven’t said shit. Who are you? Why don’t you show your face instead of projecting through an intercom like we’re Charlie’s Angels?”

The voice mocks, “You have to complete your challenge to earn the privilege of seeing my face,Angel.”

Pax shakes his head and says, “I don’t like this, guys. We don’t know who we’re even talking to.”

The League has never gone through this much of a setup before. This must have something to do with their plans to appoint a fourth bloodline. They told us that things would be different moving forward. This actually reminds me of the chastity vow ceremony for Zeta Nu, right down to knocking out the pledges.

The trivia room would be the preliminary screening. Whoever’s running the show won’t tell us what the challenge is until we’ve finished these tests, and the tests won’t actually begin until we agree to the challenge. Knowledge is power and to gain this knowledge, he’s speaking of, I have to play along. “I accept the challenge.”

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