I was walking through one of the most crowded streets of the city. There were lots of people holding shopping bags, drinks, and phones- basically anything you’d be used to seeing at a popular shopping venue. I took long steps to the end of the street, paying only the smallest bit of attention to my surroundings. I was used to these lights, these smells, these sights- even some of these people. I loved it here. But it was slightly different today as I was rushing to find something- or hoping to find something, anything. I needed to, or else I’d believe I’d gone insane.
The day started as a pretty usual one. I was finally home after a tiring nine-hour night shift and all I wanted to do was sleep. Just as I was about to take off my coat, I noticed something in my pocket. Slowly, I reached for it. I found a piece of paper in my pocket that said ‘Call me now!’. On the crumpled paper, there was also a number whose last digit had been wiped out. I didn’t remember seeing such a paper, let alone securing it inside my pocket. So it meant that someone had put it in my pocket. On accident, maybe? The note seemed to be urgent so I decided to call the number on the paper and tell them that they’d given it to the wrong person.
Before reaching out to the person who I deemed to write the note, I had to figure out the last digit of the number. I decided to try the numbers one by one- starting from zero. After a few minutes of calling, I was about to dial nine and still hadn’t gotten any answers. All the numbers were out of use and I was thinking I fell for some stupid prank. I pressed nine, only to complete what I had started, not expecting any answer. To my surprise, a short ‘beep’ was heard the moment I started the call. Just when I was about to speak, I was interrupted by a robotic, genderless voice. It repeated a message. ‘XXXX District, 10 PM 26/01/20XX’. Nothing else was said by the voice, the message went on a loop. I tried to ask if there was anyone on the other side, but no answer came. After noting down the address and place, I closed the call.
The date was today, and the district was a popular one, one that I often visited. I wasn’t planning on going. I wasn’t some dumb horror movie protagonist. But I couldn’t help wondering. I decided to call the number once again. I didn’t know what I was expecting, probably anything but that looped message. I waited for the ‘beep’ to be heard again, but nothing was happening and it wasn’t long before the ‘the number you’re calling isn’t linked to a specific user’ message, delivered in that boring, robotic female voice filled my ears. What did that mean? I was certain that I had the number precisely correct. I sighed, before finally deciding to get a long, relaxing nap.
I woke up around 6 PM and made myself a bowl of instant pasta. As I walked past it, the note caught my eye again. Something inside me was craving to go and check it out to uncover the person behind all this. I had a feeling I wasn’t the only one. I ended up going out that night, only because I was too curious to stay home.
I didn’t know for how long I’d been walking, I wasn’t sure if I had walked past the place I was supposed to be at, but how do you search if you don’t know what to search for? I kept looking at the neon signs as I walked past them. Restaurants, bars, and all kinds of shops were around me and I didn’t know if I was supposed to walk inside a bustling bar or a seemingly uncrowded boutique. Soon, I neared the older part of the venue, with unkempt, small buildings. None of these were used nowadays, so it was normal for me to wonder why one of the buildings had its lights on. I checked my watch before making a run to the old building: 8.58 PM.
With heavy breaths, I reached the place and pushed myself in through the dirty glass door. There were nine more people of all ages. They all seemed as surprised and clueless as I was. So, who was behind it all? What was going on? Were we chosen randomly? As I always believed, if there were questions to be asked, there was also someone with the answers. I sat down on one of the empty chairs and checked my watch again: 9 PM.
A voice, the one in the message filled the room. “It’s clear you all wonder what’s going on. You’ll get answers, only if you can prove you’re worthy of knowing. So do your best if you want answers or simply your freedom.” A few gasps were heard but I made no noise, as I tried to comprehend what was going on. My thoughts were interrupted by the shout of a middle-aged woman. “What do you mean by freedom? I want no part in this.” She harshly pushed her chair back and stood up. “In fact- I’m leaving. I’ve had enough of this.” The woman walked to the door. Her painted nails hovered over the doorknob and I noticed something. A small sparkle, one you’d notice only if you knew where to look at. But it was too late as she had already grabbed the knob before I even opened my mouth.
She stood, frozen for a moment before her body went limp and she collapsed. One of the lightbulbs on the ceiling flickered and went off, but everyone else was too shocked to notice and I preferred not to make a fuss about it. Some people screamed, a guy’s face went pale and two teenage girls stared tearing up. A man walked through the scared crowd and kneeled beside the woman. “She’s dead,” he announced soon after. That wasn’t particularly surprising as everyone already assumed that.
“Try to leave, if you so desire.” The voice was back. Nobody moved this time. “How do we get our freedom back?” the man asked as he stood up. The answer was quick to come. “By the simplest of decision-making mechanisms humanity had ever came up with, of course: games.”
-to be continued in another blog, hopefully-