Page 26 of Sinner

I started tearing through the mail, thankful most of it was junk. But a black envelope not only grabbed my attention, I was instantly frozen. The writing was in gold metallic addressed to me personally. I carefully picked it up, turning it over to find an address on the back.

The Blackwell Group.

What the hell was this?

My fingers were no longer shaking as I opened the flap, pulling out a single card. “An invitation?”

I could swear my words echoed. After reading it again, I knew I was right. The card was an invitation to present my skills in various tiers of questions and contests. Was this about the company’s upper echelon of gamers or about the job I’d applied for?

My thoughts drifted to the possibility this was an invitation to the Obsidian Society. A bolt of excitement leveled in my stomach.

There were few details other than offering a link to a secure portion of their website where additional information would be provided.

A strange feeling of excitement was trying to shove aside the fear and anger. Maybe this was indeed all about my application. They’d certainly want to know if my skills were up to par and if I had to guess, I’d say they required a personality test. Or as I liked to call it, a sociopath measurement.

Was this something I really wanted to do? Was the hate so strong I could pretend to be someone else? I hated that my curiosity had gotten the better of me. But it had. I refilled my wine, taking the card with me as I headed to my laptop.

The link was directly off the company’s main website. I had to choose a password to go with the code provided. Once in, I was shown an introduction screen.

Welcome to the Blackwell Group. You have been chosen among a significant list of candidates to participate in a challenge with rewards including securing a position with us. If you accept the invitation, you will be asked a series of questions while also being provided with a nondisclosure agreement, which you must sign in advance. Once you do, you will be given twenty-four hours to complete the questionnaire. Your answers will help determine whether you’re the type of individual the Blackwell Group is looking for.

I sat back, trying to process the first paragraph. This could lead to the job I’d applied for. What a strange way to consider candidates. Maybe that’s why I’d been asked to send in a headshot. Weird, but maybe it worked for them. I continued reading.

If your answers allow you to qualify, you will be asked to come into the Blackwell headquarters at a specific time to test yourskills on a new and very exciting game we will be releasing in the next few days. After that, based on your answers, you’ll experience virtual reality becoming a moment of real life. Your reaction will determine your final qualification to be employed by the Blackwell Group as an executive.

“An executive? What in the hell?”

I was excited, more so than I should be. I’d beefed up my resume as much as I could without lying, but to become an executive with the company would be a dream come true. There was one last paragraph. At least now I was jittery from excitement, although the masked boogeyman remained at large and something I’d need to deal with.

Not tonight.

After reading the last paragraph, I was positively giddy. There would be incredible extra perks if selected, including a company car, more vacation time, and what? A vacation home? Were these people for real? I’d heard they had great benefits, but a vacation home? No wonder they were considered one of the top twenty companies in the world to work for.

I sat back. Signing an NDA wasn’t an odd request, not with the proprietary software that took years to develop and was highly sought after. What could it hurt to sign it and fill out the questionnaire? I was certain it was all about finding the right psychological fit given the nature of a good percentage of the games.

I’d grown up playing their tame games, some highly educational and used by teachers all over the world. That’s where I’d truly developed the love of the gaming world. Much to my father’s chagrin.

There was one problem. I’d altered my name on my resume. I’d even created a fake email account as well. At some point, I’d need to come clean. Everything on the resume was all about me, Jessica, the girl who was simply just trying to forge a fantastic path toward the future.

But Sophie Turner was the girl who wanted revenge.

A part of me had never believed my resume would be good enough. Besides, I’d had a bad night thinking about my sister’s death before hitting send. Maybe I could pass the tests with flying colors and the little oversight wouldn’t matter to them.

Yeah, right. They’d toss me out.

However… What if it was a way to act on my need for revenge prior to being discovered? Hmm… I toyed with the idea for a few seconds before downloading the NDA. It appeared pretty standard, including never telling anyone about the games, the conversations, or anything else about the Blackwell Group.

The only line that troubled me a little was that if it was offered and I accepted the job, I could never mention any benefits or work activity to anyone for the rest of my life. Wow. That was a little heavy handed. They certainly believed in privacy. Could I tolerate that? I laughed and took another gulp of wine, reminding myself I wouldn’t get that far.

Thoughts and memories of my sister returned to my mind. She hadn’t deserved the treatment she’d received from the fucking bastard. This was my only chance of destroying him since he’d taken everything from her, leaving her hopeless with no ability to fight. Yes. I was going to do this.

I filled out the NDA, forced to print and sign. Once scanned and uploaded, I wasted no time hitting send. “Ha.” Within seconds, Iwas rewarded with another link. The questions. Holy crap. There had to be two hundred questions. Did they want my entire life story?

The first questions were typical. Did I consider myself a competitive person. Did I enjoying playing video games as a child. How did I feel I handled difficult situations. I’d need more wine to get through this drudgery.

After retrieving the bottle and refilling my glass, I was hopeful I could stay awake. The entire week, including the weekend, had left me achy and exhausted. That’s what happened when you were threatened with a knife and watched a man bleed out in front of you. I was more than a little macabre.

After question thirty, things turned a little weird. “What is my greatest fantasy?” Was that a serious question? My thoughts shifted to their reality games. It made sense they’d be asking. Their games were sensual, violent, kinky, and positively engaging.

---