Feyisayo Inumo, “Sector R-MD1”

Artwork by Feyisayo Inumo

SECTOR R-MD1

Feyisayo Inumo

SECTOR R-MD1 Facility number 17. Subjects so far: 45. Subjects failed: 37. Subjects passed: 8. The Menacing in 5:7:14:12. Next subject, Subject 21-FDR. Name: Oona Hetri. Age: 23. Place of residence: Tuptec City, District B-4, Fainly Drive, Apartment E-4. Estimated skill score: 1290. Estimated time: 5 hours. Estimated stage completion: 4. Estimated test completion: 9. When: July 17, 2178, 14:20:00. The clock in the therapy room ticks in a rhythmic sequence. Tick, tick, tick, it goes, counting each second that goes by until I meet my new therapist. “Ms. Hetri?” a woman calls from the front desk. “Dr. Temmings is available now. You can go to Room 432 to see him.” My heart is pounding and beads of sweat start to form on my palms. I look up each door number—425, 426, 427. I keep going until I reach room 432. I open the door and see Dr. Hemmings sitting in a brown leather chair writing on a clipboard with immense concentration. “E-Excuse me? Dr. Temmings?” He quickly looks up and greets me with a warm smile. “Come on in. You must be Ms. Hentri.” I nod. “Well, it’s wonderful to meet you.” “You too.”

* * * * * I walk a little more until I’m at my bus stop. It’s strange no one is on this street. I clench my bag and hold on to my jacket a little tighter. I look at my phone and the bus arrives in five minutes.

Five minutes, I think to myself, all I need to do is wait five minutes. But the aura of the street makes me feel like I shouldn’t be standing here. I go with my gut and start to speed walk to the train instead, but as soon as I take a step, I fall. It happens so quickly and without any warning, a random hole forms right underneath my feet, plummeting me to the deepest depths of the earth, or wherever this hole leads me. I am falling and I can’t scream. Instead, I shut my eyes quickly and press them together hard, hoping that this was a weird daydream of mine. But when I open them, I’m still here—falling through this cold dark hole. I clench my sad body and begin to cry. I start to think, What in the world is even happening to me?’’ Then, a POOF. I landed on something; it felt like bouncing on a trampoline. I was confused. How am I not dead? Where the hell even am I? I look around to examine my surroundings; the place I’m in is cold and has very little lighting. All this is too surreal. It feels like I’m in some sort of dreamscape, outside of reality. My stomach starts to churn and I get lightheaded, I slide down to the floor and sit down beside the cushion. I hug my legs close to my chest, and start to sob, quietly like a baby animal who just lost its mother. Then seemingly out of nowhere, I hear a whirring sound. I’m probably in some sort of tournament that I never signed up for, hosted by some rich people who just want to see poor people suffer. “Welcome, Subject 21-FDR, and congratulations on being one of the few people to be accepted to participate in this trial.” The hell? “In this exam, you will complete a series of stages and each stage has tests—there are a total of four stages and twelve tests. You must be able to complete at least three stages and six tests. You will have a time period of six hours. These tests will consist of both physical and mental tests, to test your comprehension, problem-solving skills, and things of that nature.” My face starts to pool with sweat, and my armpits and back start to get hot. Thoughts are racing through my mind like mini

race cars zooming and zipping along the racetrack that is my brain. No. I can’t panic and have to stay calm and assess my situation. I begin to rise, slowly. I make a fist and take a deep, riveting breath, and then let it out in a controlled sigh. Let’s do this. “Subject 21-FDR if you fail to complete the exam without the appropriate marks, then further action will be taken.” I swallow hard, there’s nothing I can do. “Subject 21-FDR are you ready to begin? If you are ready to proceed then there is a door to the right of you, enter it and you will begin your examination. If not, the door will be open for a three-hour period, then it will close, not allowing you to take the test again.” I gulp. At this point, there is no turning back. I either go through that door and get this over with, or sit around and wait three hours for this door to close and see what happens to me. This is it, emotions are coursing through my veins, making me wobble and sway. But I stand my ground and brace myself for whatever I’m getting myself into. ‘Cause god knows what is behind that door. I’m greeted with a bright golden like light and a gush of warm air rushes into my face. The warm feeling of the room makes me sleepy, almost like the entire place is filled with little light feathers, hugging me from every direction. The room color itself is plain while I look around and spot a stain on the wall, near the corner. It is large, about the size of a tennis ball, and it is a light pinkish color. That’s awkward in a room like this having a bold stain like that. It makes me feel uncomfortable, the once floaty warm atmosphere of the room quickly turns sour and cold. The warm golden fluorescent lights start to dim and turn a cool gray color. Is this the test? I button up my jacket as the room starts to get colder. “Welcome Subject 21-FDR to Stage 1, Test 1. The objective: figure out a way to get out of the room before the room temperature turns below 0° Celsius. You have forty minutes, and the tem-

perature in the room is 25° Celsius. You may begin now.” I look all around me and start to get frantic. I know I can solve this problem, I just have to think outside the box. I take out my phone—it hasn’t really been useful for anything. The only thing that is working is the temperature monitor. I have to somehow heat up the room so that the temperature doesn’t get any lower. I look around again. There has to be a way. Suddenly, an idea pops up in my head. I can burn something. I pat my head, then touch the ribbons holding my buns in place. I can burn them. I untie them and tie them together, and wrap them around my shoes. I frantically search my bag and find my multi-purpose pen that my sister gave to me. It has everything, even a lighter. The small blue flame illuminates a tiny portion of the ever-dimming room. I hold my ribbons to the blue flame and wait for them to catch fire. I push the shoe to the center of the room and cover my mouth with my jacket, then look at the temperature monitor. It’s 20° Celsius. I hope they let me out soon. I sat down in the corner of the room near the big stain, and kept an eye on the monitor. I really do hope they get me out on time. The smoke is starting to really affect me now. The fire is raging. It has now engulfed the whole shoe, and the smoke keeps building up more and more. The room is 32° Celsius. It was a horrible idea to light a fire in a small room like this. I am counting on the people who put me here to allow me to go to the next stage before things get too much to handle. I guess this is another reason why not to trust rich people. I slouch down the corner of the wall, and stare intently at the glowing red ball of raw heat energy. I’m going to die here, aren’t I? I turn my face away from the fire and to the wall. I’m so tired, my head feels light headed and my body is weak. I really did this to myself. I can’t believe I intentionally killed myself. I chuckle at the thought. I’m really about to die because I lit a shoe on fire, and I slump lower until I’m almost completely on the floor. Poor me. I close my eyes and go to sleep, letting the crackle of the fire and the smoke in the air engulf me, hoping when I wake

HOME BASE- TL90 “Good afternoon. Overlord Blorp, it seems like you cut the date again. 1 month.” “Yes I have, I’m tired of waiting. I want to start now.” “Oh. We tested the last person today, a woman, who almost died doing one of the tests.” “Spare me the details, General. Are you ready?” “Yes, completely.” “Let the menacing COMMENCE!”

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