SOTF: Evolution Prologue

[Hallucinogenic*]

What’s happening?! Where are we?!

What did you do to me?!

My skin- oh god, what IS that?!

I can’t move!

The screams help you come to your senses, as you awaken from your blurry dream. You open your eyes for a second, then snap them shut. You hope to God that what you saw wasn’t true, but you can feel the fear in your body already, and you know that this is real.

“Silence, please. You’ll get your explanation once you settle down.”

With a heavy heart, you allow yourself to look around and take in your surroundings. 20 other people, all about your age, strapped down by their wrists and ankles to small, metallic chairs, all more terrified and confused than the last. As you try to convey the situation, a tall, skeletal figure strides across the front of the room with an all-covering gas mask strapped to his face. Not an ounce of his skin can be seen beneath the long, leather coat he wears tightly around his body; even his fingers are draped in the same material, as though his clothes are somehow his flesh. You daren’t speak up against him, remembering the moment you awoke before in that hollow prison cell, and you remain silent in your chair as he demands your full attention.

“Silence, I said.”

“Fuck you! Who the fuck do you think you are?!”

“I won’t ask again, child. Silence.”

“Fuck you, let me outta here!”

Your eyes urge him to quiet down, but you see that it’s already too late. His eyes widen as he hears a gun click behind his head, and you turn away before the shot rings out across the room, sparking hysteria within the others. As soon as they start to panic, another man appears in the doorway, dressed in a strange assortment of military gear, although the gas mask is identical to the one worn by the man in leather. You don’t have time to see what happens- he does it so quickly- but your throat feels tighter and you can scarcely make a sound.

“Thank you.”

As the man retires back into the hall, the group focus their efforts onto relieving their voices, but to no avail. You try too, for a second, before the lights go out and a projection is displayed on both the whiteboard and the man-in-leather’s front. You see what appears to be an island above a collection of smaller ones, but they don’t seem familiar to you. Stepping out of the image, the man picks up a long, black cane from the front desk and points to the largest of the isles below the mainland.

“Presently, you are here, in our base of conduct. Once you’re back on the island, we will monitor your every move.”

You feel yourself shiver.

“We will supply you with a single daypack each, containing the following.”

The slide changes and an image of each item is displayed, one after the other, with a brief explanation of their common uses. Your heart sinks as the last two items are displayed: a combat knife and what’s described as a “Jericho941”- aka, a handgun. The person in front of you looks nervously to the people sitting either side of them, wondering if any of them had come to the same conclusion. At this point, you notice that one of the other captives has their mouth taped shut, while another wears a full-body swimsuit. You would laugh, but you know there must be a reason why they’ve been singled out.

“Now that’s out of the way, I can explain those troublesome marks on your arms.”

You quickly look to the wounds in question, noticing several others doing the same, then turn back to hear the rest.

“First, I should point out that we are not part of the military. We are neither government nor police, and we are certainly not terrorists.”

He stands front and center now, hands behind his back.

“We are the beginning of a new era. We are the pilots of humanity, flying us all into a brave new world of technological advancements so great that the future will pass us by with a gasp.”

He steps slowly forward, eyes focused (though not seen) on the person in front of you.

“You will surpass us, and you will grow brighter than any one of us could dare to try.”

“You are evolution.”

Everyone’s calmer now, but much more confused. You feel the same way, though you question whether you really want to hear the next part of whatever he has to say.

“Put simply, each of you has been given a gift. That gift differs from person to person, similar to a... raffle, I suppose, but you all entered the same one.”

He pauses.

“We have developed a serum which contains the key to evolution itself; a serum which reacts differently depending on the DNA of the person who receives it.”

You feel a bead of sweat roll down the back of your neck.

“It’s still in development, but this way we can test its effects without fear of anyone watching over our shoulders. And the testing, children, is where you come in.”

The whole room grows dark, the air filling with an intense dread.

“The people around you are not your friends; they are, in essence, your enemies. And though you may think of befriending them after this is all over, you’re merely deluding yourselves because the simple fact of the matter is this: after three days, only one of you will be left standing.”

Your heart stops. You can’t process what he’s told you, it just won’t sink in. Does he really expect you to kill someone? To kill off everyone? Would the others even try? You look around; everyone’s doing the same, thinking the same thoughts, and wondering if the others would kill them, given the chance. They’re strangers, after all, nobody you know.

“Not only that,” He starts up again.

“But we want you to utilise your new-found gifts as much as you can, to give us a comprehensive look into each of your unique talents. Oh, and of course, there are a few rules.”

He steps back behind the desk, pointing to a close-up of what appears to be a tiny electronic chip.

“If nobody dies within 24 hours, we’ll detonate the tracking devices inside your bodies.”

The whole room begins to panic. All you want to do is scream for help, but deep down you know nobody will come and that only makes the whole thing worse.

“Consider it an incentive.”

Turning back to the board, he changes goes back to the very first slide, showing the island once again.

“This grid displays the different areas of the island. As you can see, each area is fairly large, but don’t think you can all hide out in the church and pray that your God will keep you safe. Every 12 hours, we will randomly make certain areas off-limits to you, giving you exactly one hour to leave the “danger zones” before they become inaccessible for the rest of the game. However, when I say “inaccessible” I do in fact mean that if you step into these areas after the one-hour time-limit, your tracking devices will automatically detonate, and you will be blown into a million pieces. Which is a shame, really; your cadavers would be absolute treasure troves of data.”

The slide changes again, skipping through the previous ones regarding the daypacks, and now shows a picture of a patrol boat on the edge of the island.

“Don’t think about escaping either. To those of you who believe they can honestly swim all the way across the ocean to get to another country, I applaud you. But I assure you, you won’t get away. This finally brings me to the good news.”

His coat flaps about his legs as he steps out from behind the desk, the lights bursting back into life after the projector turns itself off.

“There can only be one winner here, and that winner, whoever they may be, will get to leave this place and never have to look back. We only need your data, after all.”

You feel sick now, your stomach wanting to escape from your body just so some small part of you stands a chance of surviving this hell.

“Now then, that about wraps this up. If you’ve got any questions, feel free to direct them to me once you’ve finished butchering each other.”

Making sure his gas-mask is secure, he exits the room, closing the door behind him without a single look back. You wonder what’s about to happen, before you hear a familiar sound.

Slowly, your eyes begin to close, and you pray that you never wake up.