Opening to Two Hours Before The Golden Tower (For Hook Contest)

An endless static wail filled his ears with a thumping sensation. He grabbed at them and held tightly in an attempt to smother the agonizing sound. His eyes had yet to open and because his stubble face had cringed, he was unable to do so. The white noise starts to back away to the unknown depths from whence it came, and he slowly slides his eye lids up. 1

He saw that he was sitting nearly cross-legged on a dingy old mattress, and that his green pants and black boots didn’t fair any better. Blood, dried and becoming brittle, was in spots all around him along with jagged metal springs. He examined his chest, noting that he was wearing an olive drab vest that looked military in make. He rubbed his hair and brought his hand back with a few brown strands. Something had felt odd, so he rubbed his hand through it once more. Near the back of his skull was bare and a solid row stitches held together inflamed skin. If seemed as if someone had surgically opened it. He was somewhat frightened by that revelation, for it wasn’t there before. His left arm looked peculiar, so he turned it over and looked at the bottom of the wrist. A tattoo that he had previously not had was inked:2

S.J.T # 143

He couldn’t decipher it nor understand how he got it. And that is when it comes to him in a shocking grip. How did he get here? What the hell is this place? When he tried to reach for the answers his brain responded angrily. The ears echoed with a piercing screech and his eyes felt as if someone was pressing their thumbs into them. To hell with you too. he thought.4

He looked around most of the room, trying to make sense of this bizarre situation. The walls were metal plating that had become rusted, and the floor was cracked, stained concrete. There were no objects of any kind in this rundown bomb shelter, except for the black screen shimmering anxiously at him. It was a television set on a push cart with a VCR above it. A black videotape rested near it, and he was quick to leap from the bed to retrieve it. Black sharpie was scrawled on its label:5

“This may help save your life”6

A little frightened by what may be on the tape, he fiddled with it in his fingers for a moment, unsure of his decision. He had to know what had happened to him; he had to know what they did to his head and what this was all about. He slides the tape into the VCR’s slot and listens to the tape whirl around inside. The screen fills with static for a brief moment and then an image appears. 7

A husky man in a well pressed black suit stands in front of an elegant desk and large windows. Judging by the view, it must be high up, like a skyscraper. He casually puffs on a cigar that leaves trails from his thick gums. His eyes look uncaring, and seem to have a twisted enjoyment for the words he is about to express. As the smoke wraps around his nearly square face, he gets to the point.8

“Leon…..I bet you are thinking about many things right now, your head full of questions, hm? Well, let me be frank.9

You have been chosen among a select few, to play a game, a sort of test, if you will. You are the fourteenth subject, and you will go through the hardest trial thus far. Your skills in the black ops are nearly legendary, and as such, this game will be different than the others.10

You are at one side of the city, and my building, your goal, is at the other. You will literally have to travel from one end to the other, but from your location it is a straight shot. All you have to do is manage to reach this tower where you will receive your answers and a large sum of money as a reward. But, don’t go thinking you can just run from side to the other. Oh no, Leon, it wouldn’t be that simple.11

That scar you have no doubt noticed on your head? That is where we surgically implanted a cortex bomb near your brain. It is only the size of a quarter, but it will be more than enough to reduce you to a small, wet pile. And, I might add, it only has two hours left before it detonates. The timer will start once you exit the door. And, should you get the idea in your head that you won’t leave….I will detonate it.12

It gets harder from here. I have hired the most ruthless, bloodthirsty gangs and outfits available to stalk the streets and hunt you down. But there are worse things lurking in the shadows than gangs….namely, serial killers, sadists and psychopaths. 13

The city is the rundown landscape of what was Portland, so you will be able to traverse easily. You will find a pistol and knife to start, and all other weaponry you will need to locate yourself. They have been scattered and hidden, just waiting for you to pick them up. And lastly, you will be alone with no allies whatsoever. 14

I hope that you are more entertaining than the last subjects. Best of luck.”