Not So Dangerous?
Reminder: This image was not created by me. All images and prompts I use come from Pinterest.
I sigh and sit back in my chair huffing with boredom. He said 6:00, didn't he? I look down at my phone. The time 6:20 sits in slime green on my lovely Halloween background. The doors in front of my swing open dramatically and I look up from my phone to the short plump man in front of me. He grabs out a handkerchief and wipes the overabundance of sweat dripping from his forehead.
"I am so sorry I am late." He says obviously really relieved to find me still waiting.
I shrug. "It's okay. What's this job?" I ask getting straight to business.
He starts walking towards the door on the other side of the room. "Please follow me this way." He says.
Um okay. I get up and follow him through the doors. This job offer is just getting weirder and weirder. And I have dealt with a lot of weird. All thanks to my special ability to sense how dangerous a job is. It seriously helps me tell if I am being ripped off. Which wouldn't you know, happens ALOT when taking dangerous jobs. Aperiantly it's okay to rip off the soon to be dead. Yeesh, no respect. But hey I am used to it. Being the only alive relative of my dead grandmother, who just happened to be one of the actually powerful and real physics of Alaska, has its perks and consequences. Super cool powers and then the fact that the entire family is dead except for me. Ya physics of my great grandmas decent really have a hard time living. I guess we either get attacked by danger or go looking for it. Of course, I go looking for it. He leads me into a corridor and into a room. I look around and realize this looks a lot like an interrogation room. I see a desk and filing cabinets. And a big window looking into another room. I look through the window and examine the room. The walls are completely bare and empty. In fact, the only thing in this room is dust, dried blood, and a metal chair. I brush my chestnut colored hair out of my eyes realizing what I just said. Blood! So much blood. I look at the walls, the floor, and the metal chair. All of which are covered in blood. I play with the utterly destroyed hem off my leather jacket. I turn around and look at the super nervous plump man who has begun to sweat again. His white handkerchief reappears and he wipes the sweat from his forehead once again. I try and calm myself as I feel his nervous aura spilling over and into me. I cough to break the unbearable silence. He wiggles uncomfortably unable to meet my eyes or look into the other room.
"So the job what is it?" I ask.
He doesn't look at me. The door opens loudly making the man jump way higher than I think is physically possible for him. I raise my eyebrow questioningly at him as a woman in a red button up top and a black skirt walks in. Well more like prowls. She turns to look at me and I shiver with fear. Her skin is tan like she has been to a beach quite recently. But that was everything normal ends. Her red painted lips are turned upwards into what could be called a smile but really more of aggressive teeth baring. Her cold blue eyes stare at me but I see and feel nothing as I look into them. Her eyes are cold and emotionless. The style of a predator. Her straight yellow hair bounces as she falls into one of the seats behind the desk.
"Okay here is the deal. You get paid $100k an hour for sitting in that room. If at any point you cant continue hit the panic alarm. If at any point you nearly die we will get you out as soon as we can. We don't want to know your name. We don't want to know anything about you. So keep it to yourself. I won't lie to you. There is a 99.9% chance you will die. Also if you remember, you signed a contract before you even entered the building to never discuss anything we have said. So if you don't want the job you can leave. Just don't discuss what happened here with anyone." She says smiling through her bleached teeth.
I shrug. "Okay fine. Let me see the contract."
She pushes it forwards and the man grumbles something under his breath. She laughs. "Your absolutely right Ford. But if she wants to I won't stop her."
"What?" I ask
"Oh, Ford was just saying you're so small and skinny. And you really don't seem all that intelligent. He really thinks you should just go home. You probably won't last a minute. Besides females are more prone to die." She says taking back the contract.
My face burns with furry. No calls me stupid. I rip the contract from her fingers and I hold it in front of me and skim through it.
You will be provided 100k for every hour you remain SEATED in the room.
Please enter where you would like the money to be sent if you die (family, charities, e.x)
You will be provided a room, food, and clothing with other participants.
Once signed you will not be able to back out. You will not be released from contract until you are either dead or have completed 72 hours in the room.
Upon death, we will not be responsible for telling the family that you are dead or local news, police, or other interested parties that you are in fact dead not missing.
Oh, great a cover-up. This is getting sketchier by the second. I stop reading feeling unsure and sick. Come on girl. You need the money. Suck it up. Nothing has killed you yet. And I mean this is better than nothing. I got a gang on my trail. A pack of supernatural obsessed teens trying to find me (thanks a lot blog). And finally a very angry child services agent (I am nearly 18. He should really just drop it.) I grab the pen off the desk and scribble my name on the line. Well here goes nothing.
Delihla Crossroads
"I am so sorry I am late." He says obviously really relieved to find me still waiting.
I shrug. "It's okay. What's this job?" I ask getting straight to business.
He starts walking towards the door on the other side of the room. "Please follow me this way." He says.
Um okay. I get up and follow him through the doors. This job offer is just getting weirder and weirder. And I have dealt with a lot of weird. All thanks to my special ability to sense how dangerous a job is. It seriously helps me tell if I am being ripped off. Which wouldn't you know, happens ALOT when taking dangerous jobs. Aperiantly it's okay to rip off the soon to be dead. Yeesh, no respect. But hey I am used to it. Being the only alive relative of my dead grandmother, who just happened to be one of the actually powerful and real physics of Alaska, has its perks and consequences. Super cool powers and then the fact that the entire family is dead except for me. Ya physics of my great grandmas decent really have a hard time living. I guess we either get attacked by danger or go looking for it. Of course, I go looking for it. He leads me into a corridor and into a room. I look around and realize this looks a lot like an interrogation room. I see a desk and filing cabinets. And a big window looking into another room. I look through the window and examine the room. The walls are completely bare and empty. In fact, the only thing in this room is dust, dried blood, and a metal chair. I brush my chestnut colored hair out of my eyes realizing what I just said. Blood! So much blood. I look at the walls, the floor, and the metal chair. All of which are covered in blood. I play with the utterly destroyed hem off my leather jacket. I turn around and look at the super nervous plump man who has begun to sweat again. His white handkerchief reappears and he wipes the sweat from his forehead once again. I try and calm myself as I feel his nervous aura spilling over and into me. I cough to break the unbearable silence. He wiggles uncomfortably unable to meet my eyes or look into the other room.
"So the job what is it?" I ask.
He doesn't look at me. The door opens loudly making the man jump way higher than I think is physically possible for him. I raise my eyebrow questioningly at him as a woman in a red button up top and a black skirt walks in. Well more like prowls. She turns to look at me and I shiver with fear. Her skin is tan like she has been to a beach quite recently. But that was everything normal ends. Her red painted lips are turned upwards into what could be called a smile but really more of aggressive teeth baring. Her cold blue eyes stare at me but I see and feel nothing as I look into them. Her eyes are cold and emotionless. The style of a predator. Her straight yellow hair bounces as she falls into one of the seats behind the desk.
"Okay here is the deal. You get paid $100k an hour for sitting in that room. If at any point you cant continue hit the panic alarm. If at any point you nearly die we will get you out as soon as we can. We don't want to know your name. We don't want to know anything about you. So keep it to yourself. I won't lie to you. There is a 99.9% chance you will die. Also if you remember, you signed a contract before you even entered the building to never discuss anything we have said. So if you don't want the job you can leave. Just don't discuss what happened here with anyone." She says smiling through her bleached teeth.
I shrug. "Okay fine. Let me see the contract."
She pushes it forwards and the man grumbles something under his breath. She laughs. "Your absolutely right Ford. But if she wants to I won't stop her."
"What?" I ask
"Oh, Ford was just saying you're so small and skinny. And you really don't seem all that intelligent. He really thinks you should just go home. You probably won't last a minute. Besides females are more prone to die." She says taking back the contract.
My face burns with furry. No calls me stupid. I rip the contract from her fingers and I hold it in front of me and skim through it.
You will be provided 100k for every hour you remain SEATED in the room.
Please enter where you would like the money to be sent if you die (family, charities, e.x)
You will be provided a room, food, and clothing with other participants.
Once signed you will not be able to back out. You will not be released from contract until you are either dead or have completed 72 hours in the room.
Upon death, we will not be responsible for telling the family that you are dead or local news, police, or other interested parties that you are in fact dead not missing.
Oh, great a cover-up. This is getting sketchier by the second. I stop reading feeling unsure and sick. Come on girl. You need the money. Suck it up. Nothing has killed you yet. And I mean this is better than nothing. I got a gang on my trail. A pack of supernatural obsessed teens trying to find me (thanks a lot blog). And finally a very angry child services agent (I am nearly 18. He should really just drop it.) I grab the pen off the desk and scribble my name on the line. Well here goes nothing.
Delihla Crossroads
Hey guys! So, I really liked this prompt and the story I wrote for it.
This means that I will be writing more of this particular story.
So watch out for Not So Dangerous? Prompt 2!
Comments
Post a Comment