THIRD EYE
The moment Cia steps into the school's territory the next day, she knows something is wrong.
Outside too many foreign cars occupy the parking lot. Too many people rush in and out of the building, people she's never seen and the way they move and hurry around her makes her head turn and spin in a white wheel.
Every single one of them is wearing white.
White blazer, white pants, white button-down, white socks, white shoes.
Only the necktie colored differently: red.
Cia is puzzled, gaze hopping from one face to the other in an attempt to recognize any. She doesn't.
She only notices the deep wrinkles in their foreheads and the creases around the eyes. They form on her face now too.
She approaches the school's gate, a big van blocking her sight to the large double glass-door. The backdoors of the car hang open to the sides, cables and all sorts of technology equipment sticking out. A young lady works inside, fumbling with the electric cord of a laptop that seems to be downloading files at a pace the woman is apparently not satisfied with.
Cia keeps watching her, eyes forming to slits trying to read what exactly is being downloaded.
Audio-files 37 out of 233 successfully downloaded.
37 out of 233? That's still a long way to-
Her track of thought is stopped when the woman senses somebody staring at her and rotates her body toward Cia, who bolts off before the lady can get a good look at her.
She moves fast, keeping her head down, not making any direct contact with anyone.
She doesn't know these people and judging by their clothes, the vans, the documents carried in their arms, the audio files – they're GR workers.
And today is interview day.
Cia is too far in now to back out and slip away without at least someone noticing her attempted escape, especially with that one guard standing like a statue in front of the school's entry, eyeing her like prey. She creeps in between the other students, wedging herself between multiple bodies, her stomach churning but she hopes for him to lose her in the sea of red uniforms.
Everyone is pushing, shoving, wiggling themselves through the double door.
When Cia reaches the guard, there's no resisting the sideways glance her eyes sneak at him - only to find his already drilling into her skull.
Pathetic GR puppets.
A loud beeping sounds the moment she stumbles into the school's lobby; there's space around her body again and to the front a long queue, stretching well to the stairs and elevator. Raising herself on her tiptoes isn't enough for her gaze to overlook the giant students ahead of her, so she steps out of line and cranes her neck.
Goosebumps appear on her skin.
There's a security check to go through, no patting down but a fingerprint device you press your pointer against.
Once you're in the system, you're in the system.
Cia can't pass that security check.
She can't be interviewed.
The interviews are conducted to target the marked ones, one of the GR's ways of hunting them down. You act suspicious, you get taken away.
They could also just ask the students to take off their clothes to look for the ink on their bodies but not everything that is an option should obviously be considered an option. They've prepared discreet questions that drive you into a tight corner until you burst.
YOU ARE READING
Ya'aburnee
FantasyWill you play the dark or will the dark play you? Cia was born with a part of her skin inked. She doesn't know that it makes her one of them until she finds out what the flames on her wrist mean. She is a target. The ultimate machine the Ghost-Re...
