The Pit

 

I open my eyes. Then I close them again. This time I open one eye carefully, then touch it to make sure it's open. I poke my eyeball and then spend about three minutes tearing up and holding my face in my hands because poking and eyeball hurts. Then I open my eyes again. I do this about 6 more times. I'm not blindfolded, I can't feel anything against my eyes - I'm seeing the same thing with my eyes open as I am with my eyes closed, which is pitch black nothingness.

Okay, I think. What a nice start.

I decide that sitting around doing nothing wasn't going to help my predicament, so I feel about on the floor – it seems like it's a cold, hard, natural stone ground, like I'm in a cave. I explore further, feeling about in front of me, and then my hand touches something warm and fleshy.

 

I almost jump out of my skin, and I fully expect to start throwing up my heart and shitting out my stomach. My whole body's trembling. I figure out instantly what I'd just touched, and to be honest, I really did not consider the fact that there might be someone else here. Don't know why I thought I was alone, but the other guy doesn't seem like he's awake, at least not yet, because he definitely wasn't dead.

 

While I waited for my... roommate to wake up, I decided to do some more exploring. By measuring using paces and feeling around, I've surmised that I am stuck in a hole in a cave that's of unknown depth, almost perfectly circular, with absolutely nothing in it except one other person and a bunch of creatures skittering around. It's of about twenty feet in diameter, and the walls are rather smooth for a natural cave, with only a few small handholds and footholds the size of ping pong balls. I realize that there is a faint trace of chrona (short for Chronoplasma) in the air, from the occasional small blue spark that flickered out of nowhere and then disappeared. That was when the voice sounded in my head. I was sitting down to take a rest, when suddenly I felt a sharp pain in my skull, like someone was poking my brain with a hot metal stick, and then a voice broke through into my thoughts. 

"Loading... registering host. Starting Project Pharo."

 

The pang of sharp pain from the voice droning on inside my head had apparently appeared in the skull of the guy in the hole with me as well, because he let out a sudden cry and then sat up, panting. 

"W-where am I?" He demands, obviously looking around in fear and bewilderment, although he probably couldn't see a thing.

"Are you awake?" I ask.

There's quiet whooshing noise as he flings his head around, looking for the source of the voice.

"Listen to me," I tell him. "We are trapped in a hole in a cave, without any source of light or food, and we don't know how deep this place either. Please don't do something stupid."

Didn't exactly help. He drops to the ground and starts hyperventilating, sweating, convulsing, sobbing and generally spazzing the fuck out. 

Eventually, my roommate calmed down, and he took a few deep breaths to steady himself. I give him some space, and a few minutes later he finds his voice. 

"Are you here because of those clowns and that circus too?" He asks.

Excuse me? 

"The... clowns?"

"I was returning home," he explains to the darkness. "And then there was a guy wearing a clown costume and mask in front of my house. He offered me to take part in a show they were hosting called 'Project Pharo'."

A sinking feeling starts in my stomach, as a thought dawns on me.

"...something different happened to me," I say. "There was this really fucking tall man with every part of his body covered in black clothing waiting outside my house, and he offered me a contract for a science research project, also called Project Pharo."

"Oh," he says, surprised. "Well, because I'm not stupid, I refused, but then the clowns ran at me and... I mean, who'd even fall for that?" 

"Right," I say. "No one." 

Guilty. 

 

We converse a bit more, in the dark. I've figured out that he's about as old as me, and, probably best of all, he's actually a combat graduate, even though he wanted to be a comedian. And his name is Alex. 

"Oh yeah," I say. "I should probably do this."

I ask him to help me look for two smallish stones on the ground, and then I rub the two stones together as fast as I can. Unfortunately, I couldn't get the desired result.

"Here," Alex says, from right next to me. "Let me try."

I hand him the stones. Our eyes have already grown accustomed enough to the dark to be able to see each other's silhouettes by now, so we can at least interact with one another. Aaron rubs the stones together as hard as he can, and after about twenty seconds the sides being rubbed together begin to glow faintly blue.

"Wow," I say, as he hands them to me. "As expected of a combat graduate."

"It's nothing," he replied. "What's it for?"

"You'll see," I say.

I set up the rocks next to each other, with the sides glowing blue face up, then, I wait a bit of time, and the glowing increases ever so slightly. I count the seconds for five minutes, then I ask Aaron if he's ready to see again.

"What?"

I clap my hands as hard as I can and every spark of chrona in the hole instantly illuminate, bathing me, Aaron, and the walls of our prison in a ghastly blue light. It was a simple reaction I had been taught in outdoor survival class. Me and Aaron stare at each other, seeing each other for the first time. I take in his features. If he wasn't a comedian he could probably have become a model, or an actor or a media star. The light from the ignited chrona was reflecting off his eyes, making them glow a brilliant electric blue, and his light brown hair was a scruffy mess. He was wearing an old brown aviator's jacket (no fur) over a light grey t-shirt, with black pants and a pair of navy hiking boots. Then, our staring contest was cut short by a second pang of pain shooting through our skulls, and we both collapse to the ground as the same monotonous voice from earlier splits my head. 

"Welcome to the Facility," it drones. "Here, you have no identity, free will, or escape. Your current mission is to leave this pit. Henceforth, you will never mention your identity or history again. You will only refer to yourself and others with the identification we have bestowed upon you. Failure to do so will result in instantaneous death."

I see. Aaron glances at me worriedly, but I motion for him to stay still and keep listening to the... broadcast.

"Your remaining time to complete the mission is 27 days 13 hours," the voice continued. "There are 1,000 remaining contestants in total. Failure to complete the mission will result in elimination." 

Okay. No pressure. I'm no vocab expert but I'm pretty darn sure 'elimination' ain't good. 

"We will now give you your identification. Refer to yourself as only this word from now on."

I only hoped that they weren't using something like "random word generator" for this, since I had terrible luck with those things and would probably end with something like 'mould'. Or 'vegetable'.

"You, number 224, will be known as 'Sword'."

 ***

Reid, or Sword, waits with his new friend in their stone prison, listening to the broadcast of the mysterious voice. But little do they know, only a few tens of feet away from the gaping maw of their hole, there is a second duo trapped within a second pit, awaiting their fate. And then, a third, a fourth... 

"You, number 115, will be known as 'Airo'."

"You, number 034, will be known as 'Elemental'."

"You, number 276, will be known as 'Artee'."

"You, number 129, will be known as 'Luc'."

"You, number 014, will be known as 'Chris'."

"You, number 091, will be known as 'Ronin'."

And then,

"You, number 225, will be known as 'Neo'."