Saving Annabel

Chapter 8

This chapter is dedicated to @xkaydotx :) Thanks for all your support!

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I wake up to bright lights shining in my face. Did something go wrong? I'm still in the same cushiony seat...

    Squinting, I sit up and look around the room. Dr. Shields and Tyler stand directly in front of me with their arms crossed and faces guarded.

"Did it not work?" I ask, confused.

Tyler repositions his crossed arms. "We're just now starting."

I scramble to a sitting position and look at each of them. 

Dr. Shields cuts in. "You are still unconscious. It's easier to observe you this way, but this test is meant to feel as real as possible. You can feel and experience everything as if you were awake." She pauses, motioning to Tyler. "Tyler here, will be able to sense whether you're using an ability or not."

Tyler looks straight at me and gives me a curt nod. My heartbeat quickens. If it's true that I could die if I don't show an ability, then what does that mean for Annabel?

I don't want to think about that. Failure is not an option.

I don't have an ability like Tyler thinks I do, but I could probably make it seem like I have one. If Tyler's willing to lie for me, we could convince Dr. Shields that I passed.

Dr. Shields straightens her back. "We will start off by testing for some potential mental and physical abilities. If this goes well, then it's all you have to do."

I slowly nod my head, still processing the information.

"There will be two teams. The people on each team will know what team they're on, but you will not. If you have a mental ability, you'll be able to use it to figure out your teammates. If you have a physical ability, you can use that to defend yourself instead."

Tyler bends down and picks something up from under my seat. He hands me a vest and helps me to put it over my head. Then he secures a mask over my face and then hands me some sort of gun. I hold the heavy and bulky thing in my arms and look up at him with my eyes wide.

He explains, "This is a paintball gun. Not lethal, but painful. If you get a paintball to a vital organ, you're out."

Dr. Shields crosses her arms. "The point of the game is to retrieve the other team's flag. To do this, obviously, you will need to figure out who your teammates are."

I raise my eyebrows. That seems easy enough. I don't need a mental ability to tell which way people are running. And it's a 50/50 chance that whatever team I choose is the right one. If I'm wrong, I'll be able to tell based on whether or not they're shooting me.

I bite my lip. This'll be fun.

"However, if you have a physical ability instead of a mental one, we will be able to observe that based on how well you can defend yourself from attackers."

I widen my eyes. Attackers? Exactly how painful is this going to be?

"I've never shot a gun in my life." I start, unsure.

Dr. Shields waves her hand, dismissing me. "Then find your teammates and ask them how to."

Tyler shifts from foot to foot, but he stays quiet.

"Let's start the game." Dr. Shields calls out into the empty room.

I blink, and they're gone.

My heart jumps in my throat as I nervously look around the empty room. Taking a deep breath, I stand up from the cushiony seat and walk forward a few paces, gripping the paintball gun to my chest.

The lights suddenly turn off and I'm plunged into darkness.

I let out a little yelp and look around with wide eyes. So much for my plan of seeing which way people are running.

I take a deep breath and reposition my gun. If I can't see, then I'll have to rely on my hearing. I stop and listen to my surroundings. Nothing but an eery silence meet my ears.

I turn around in a circle, trying to make out something. My eyes begin to adjust and I can make out a shape in front of me.

I walk towards it carefully, the sound of my feet slapping the ground penetrating the empty silence.

Before I can get there, I feel something soft form under my feet. I stop, alarmed. Slowly, I bend down to feel the ground underneath me. My breath hitches as my hand makes contact with rough short plants. I gently tug at one and it comes free. As my eyes adjust more to the darkness I can make out the green and stringy shape. I recognize it at once from my mother's stories. It's grass. Healthy, green, real grass.

Well, not real. This place is just part of the test maker's imagination.

I stand up again and survey my surroundings. Now that my eyes have fully adjusted, I can make out the shapes of trees and bushes all around me. This isn't the testing room anymore. It has turned into a forest.

Light shines down to make my surroundings even more visible. I look up and my eyes meet a bright moon.

I gasp, covering my mouth with my free hand. It's just like my mother told me! Bright and beautiful and perfect.

So this is how the outside looks like.

I smile, at ease. Closing my eyes, I feel the gentle, warm breeze against my skin. I forget about the test. I forget about what will happen if I fail. All that matters is the peace I feel within this forest.

And then the first gunshot goes off.

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