Once Upon a Gambit

Where the hell does this go? I’m right here by the taco seasonings, but I can’t seem to find the ones that match the red packet in my hand. The customer service leader told me to put this taco seasoning back in its designated spot on aisle four because a customer was too lazy to put it back himself. Great, there’s that grandma again. Ugh. Let me just smile as she awkwardly shuffles her way over here to ask me something stupid. 
“Hell-hello, young man. Do you know where I can find taco seasoning? The red packet kind.” 
She’s glaring into my soul with her sickishly pale gray eyes. How convenient. Out of all the seasonings in the store, she’s asking me for the kind I can’t find, yet I have one in my hand. 
“Oh…wow, would you look at that? Here you go.” I say with a forced grin.
“Aha! God works in mysterious ways. Thank you, Eli.” Her leathery fingers touch my hand as she grabs the packet of seasoning. This old hag has the gall to act like she wasn’t following me around the store for over half an hour now. Look at her sorry ass hobbling away like the decrepit creature she is. Back to the pits of Hell is most likely where she’s headed. 
This night shift has been dragging on for what seems like ages. I mean, who knew all the seasons of the year would pass by before I could clock out tonight? Anyway, it’s about that time to close up shop. Being the only cashier to work the express lane today was stressful enough, but now that I’m working in a standard checkout lane, here come the attitudes from co-workers. Couldn’t these people save the workplace bullying for when we all clock in tomorrow? Right now, anything could send me over the edge. 
“Next on express!” my co-worker, Brian, facetiously yells from a standard checkout lane at the opposite end. He’s such a douche. My memory isn’t my best quality. Whoop-de-freaking-doo: I forgot to put out the sign. Putting the express-lane-closed sign out for the customers must have slipped my mind. From my perspective, the lack of all express lane lights would indicate the express lane is closed — even Helen Keller would notice that. But of course, I’m always under a microscope in this place. Listening to the other co-workers laugh at Brian’s remark takes my blood from a light simmer to a rolling boil. 
“Aw, look at him. He’s getting mad!” an attention-seeker named Maribel spews as she gives me the side-eye. 
Only thirty minutes till my shift ends, but I can’t stand these people right now. The restroom is a good place to have a quick break, take a leak, and regain my composure. There are a few customers in the cafe, so I don’t feel completely alone. 
Tsk, tsk. Look who we have here. That fat heifer, Rosa, is standing by the soda fountain in the cafe on the path to the restroom. I have a gut feeling she might do something to me if I pass by her. She’s standing there sipping on a styrofoam cup, looking staged and out of place. My intuition senses danger. What’s going on here? Are my co-workers trying to corner me? Screw it. Just ignore her. 
“I heard you like Céline Dion.” she hisses as I walk past her. Gone are the days when people pulled others aside to ask about sexuality privately. Instead, this sociopathic lady in her 30’s, while in front of customers, passively suggests I’m a homosexual. There’s a time and place for those kinds of discussions. She heard I like what from who? As if I would ever talk to these demons in here personally. Am I surprised by Rosa’s pettiness? Not really. Annoyed? Very. At this point, it seems as if there is no escaping the negativity. 
Whack!
The cup in Rosa’s hand catapults up into the air, raining its contents onto everything and everyone in the cafe. She doesn't get to make a snide remark, then attempt to pour a drink on me. It had to be knocked out of her pudgy claw, and I'm glad to defend myself by doing so.
Gasp! “Excuse me, sir!” a customer barks.
A crowd of bulging eyes is glaring at me in disbelief, mouths agape. Their faces are ghoulishly elongated. 
“What? WHAT!? None of y’all said anything when she was about to pour her drink on me!” My arms reach out in front of me as if waiting to catch the bystanders’ pathetic excuses. 
“Don’t talk to me ever again!” Rosa abruptly moos. 
“Don’t talk to me ever again, you dumb ass!” I’m outta here.
After graduating high school last year, I thought I had escaped apathetic people, but it seems to be a human condition rather than a youth characteristic. Some people seemingly get a dopamine high when they hurt others. Psychopaths. Speeding down the interstate is the only thing calming my nerves at the moment. A glimpse of the velvety indigo sky and the brilliantly bright waning-gibbous moon effortlessly floating above the empty road ahead, for a brief moment, take my mind off the crud that happened at work. Deep breath in; exhale. 
Ba-da-da-ba-ding. Ba-da-da-ba-ding. Who’s calling me this late at night? Oh, it’s my dad. 
“What’s up, Dad?”
“Are you off work yet?”
“Thank God I am. So exhausted. I’m just gonna head back to my crib and rack out.”
“No. Your momma’s making tacos in the kitchen right now, so you better get ya ass over here before they get col—“
“Dad, I’m driving so fast right now, and all the other lanes are empty, but this truck is riding my ass with his brights on.”
Crash! A black Chevy Silverado rams into the rear of my car. Instantly, my hands can no longer take control of the wheel. My car swerves furiously off the road and into the median. The Silverado flees the scene. My ear is ringing, this airbag nearly knocked my head off, and I’ve been holding this piss in for the umpteenth hour.
“Dad? are you still there?” While reaching for the phone, I can feel soreness in my lower back. Thankfully, I’m alive and not too beat-up. My phone is ringing again, except it’s my younger brother calling.
“Hey bro, you will not believe what just happened to me.” I say defeated.
“Hi, Eli! Dad just told me what happened, so I’m on the way to pick you up. Are you good?”
“I’m… I’ll be okay; it’s just a little bit of pain. But, um, there’s a car pulling up beside me.”
An ominous silhouette steps out of the car and makes his way toward me. As I’m scrambling to lock my car doors in full panic mode, the phone slips out of my hand. The male figure races to the driver-side door and knocks on the window. All I see is a shadowy figure lurking at me through the gloomy darkness. I hear a familiar voice.
“Eli! Open the door, crazy.” My brother is here already. It’s odd yet satisfyingly quick that, within a matter of a few minutes, he came to get me out of this mess. “I thought you were one of those freaks who keep following me.”
“Don’t be so paranoid. No one is following you. You happened to be in the wrong place at the right time. There’re lotta guys that drive like that on the road every day. Hop in the car. Let’s go to Dad’s.”
“Hold up, Max! I gotta take a leak. My bladder is about to burst.”
The ride home with my brother is filled with laughter and conversations that trail off into many topics, which are the most entertaining discussions I could ever ask for. You know what? The wreck is probably a blessing in disguise now that I think about it. My car is totaled, but it could’ve been a lot worse. 
It wasn’t long before we arrived at my parents’ house. Excitement is rushing through my veins because I’m with my mom, dad, and brother alongside plates of tacos and side dishes. These tacos are so bomb, so succulent, so flavorful! Although I don’t reach out as much as I should, my family means the world to me. Sometimes, my heart aches because I can’t pay them back for everything they’ve given me, but seeing the smiles on their faces puts my mind at ease. Forget about what happened at work today. All that matters is right here, right now, with my family in this cozy house I grew up in. Time to hit the sack; I don’t want to be late for work tomorrow.
A loud thud wakes me. It takes a few seconds for my eyes to adjust to the dark room. This bed is so comfortable. Even though I want to go back to sleep, that noise was way too loud to ignore. The creaking of the bedroom door as I open it echoes through the dead silence of the house. Everyone must be asleep. If I could just remember where the light switch is. Ah, found it!
Flick.
Wait — I see something. Oh no, no, no, no, no. This can’t be happening. This isn’t real! Where’s my phone?
“9-1-1 emergency, this is Shelley. Where is your location?”
“24315 Monitor Lane. Please hurry.”
“Do you need the police, an ambulance, or the fire department?”
“Uh, the police and an ambulance. Please hurry.”
“Ok, remain calm. They’re on the way. What’s your emergency?”
“My mom…my dad…my little brother. Oh my God. They’re bleeding. Please help me. There’s blood everywhere.”
Tears blur my vision. My family is sprawled onto the living room floor, lying in pools of blood. I want to do CPR on them, but what if the police show up, see blood on my hands, and assume I did this? Wake up. Don’t die, please, don’t die.
“Sir, is there anyone else in the home?” the dispatcher calmly asks.
“I don’t think so.”
“Listen to me. You’re going to have to get somewhere safe, okay? The suspect is likely still in the house.”
Chills jolt through my body, my muscles twisting into knots. A strange man is right there staring at me from the front door. His face is deforming and contorting into someone else’s face. I sprint back toward the bedroom while the sound of stomping boots rapidly approaches behind me. Now that I’ve made it into the room, the door is locked, and the intruder is trying to bash it down. I hop through the bedroom window, run out of the backyard and onto the pavement with my phone in hand.
“Shelley? you still there?” I’m glancing over my shoulder every few steps or so.
“Yes, I’m here. The police are on the way. Have you made it somewhere safe?”
“Um, on the street. It’s dark, but I can see my neighbor’s house through the trees not too far from here.”
“Make it there. When you knock, yell your name so they have a heads up, okay?”
“Okay.”
Coming down the lane creeps a police car. Where is the damn ambulance!?
“Hey, Eligio! You called us?” the officer yelled from his car.
“Hang on one second, Shelley. An officer showed up. I’m gonna speak with him.”
“Sir, the po—”
“Just one second. He wants to know if I’m the one who called.”
“Sir! The police are on their way. They’re not there yet.”
Then who the hell is that? I didn’t tell the dispatcher my name, yet this officer knows my name. If I sprint toward my neighbor’s house, he could run me over. But the forest to my right is too dense for him to catch up to me in his car. Don’t hesitate. I dash toward the wood line, into the forest, never looking back. Now that I’ve made it this far, there’s no way he’ll ever find me in here. 
It’s difficult to see because the moonlight can’t make its way through the thick brush of trees. The calmness of the leaves dancing in the breeze, for a moment, make me feel safe. Seems like Shelley hung up on me. Damn! No service. Wifi? Whose wifi signal is this? Observatory, it says here. Password required. Damn! Well, their house has to be nearby. If I can just get the password, I can make sure the ambulance made it to the parents’ house. Mom, Dad, and Max are all I have left in this world. What will I do without them? 
Aha! In the distance stands a tall hedge, glowing from within. There must be a house behind it! Adrenaline shoots through my veins, helping me speed up my pace again. As I rush around the corner of the hedge, a large facility towers over me. It looks somewhat like a hospital without medical markings or a parking lot. This isn’t the house I imagined it to be. What the hell is this place? A school? An enormous sign above the entrance reads Observatory Guild | South Lodge. It has to be a school — finally, some hope.
Upon entering the tall glass doors, I am greeted by a metal detector and a police officer in tactical gear.
“Welcome to OGSL! Place all of your belongings in the tray and step through here.”
“Do you know if anyone here could give me the wifi password?”
“Place your phone in the tray, too.”
Ugh. Pissing me off already. He’s probably a fake cop, too, with that stink attitude. How frantic do I have to be for him to see that I’m running out of time? I need to know if my family is at the hospital right now or in an ambulance at least. This metal detector didn’t go off when I stepped through it. The conveyer belt is moving my items on snail mode or something, and my patience is wearing thin.
“Head to that counter and check in with the receptionist.”
Yeah, yeah, yeah. Shut up and give me my stuff back. Absolutely aggravating. I grab my belongings and make my way to the counter. Take a deep breath; exhale.
“Good evening, sir. Type in your member ID,” the receptionist states plainly.
“Can I use the wifi even if I don’t have a membership?”
“So, you’re new here? Okay, as am I.” she chuckles. “All we need is, I think, one form of government identification and your signature on the sign-in sheet right…here.” The receptionist places a clipboard on the counter and grabs my driver’s license.
“Guard! Red, red, red! It’s him.” She runs into the office behind the counter and glares at me behind the glass partition. The officer slams me against a wall and places me in handcuffs.
“What the hell!? Where are you taking me?” There are no words to describe how bad I want to rip his spine out of his throat. This is so dizzying — passing up all these rooms with glass walls. People having meetings. Conference after conference after conference. It looks like a school, like a college full of students. Wait a minute! Mom…Dad. I just saw my parents sitting in the audience of one of those conference rooms.
“Hey! Let go of me!” There’s not much I can do to break free from the officer’s grip. We enter a room slightly smaller than the previous ones.
“Have a seat here. The deaconess will be with you shortly.” The officer slams the door as he exits the room.
This office is bleak and sterile. All the furniture is stainless steel, and the walls are frosted glass. It looks more like an interrogation room than an office.
“You again.” A woman in a scarlet blazer and a matching pencil skirt storms into the room, her heels clacking against the white marble floor. “No matter who you become, you find a way to ruin the order.”
“Lady, I just wanted to use the wifi, and the next thing you know I—”
“I’m speaking. Hush.” She leans over me with a piercing look in her eyes.
I’ve had it. None of this makes sense, and now there’s a succubus screeching orders at me as if I’m a delinquent in detention. She’s out of her mind.
“Suck my dick, bitch!” 
“Oh, Indigo.” she sighs. Her gaze changes direction, and she begins stacking papers into a file. “It’s so rare for subjects to retain personality traits one integration after another.”
“Let me out of here. My mom and dad are—”
“Your mom and dad are what? Dead? in a hospital somewhere?”
How does she know that? But no, she’s wrong because I swear I saw them a few rooms down the hall. This lady has her back turned to me now, peering out the window and into the forest. I'd make a run for it, but my hands are cuffed to the chair. Since she knows so much, maybe I should just ask her.
“Why are my parents in a conference down the hall?”
“Those are not your parents, and they never were. I’m certain the people you noticed are low-ranking agents, Kerrigan and Samantha, who were both assigned to your reintegration. Mission failed, I suppose.”
“Huh? But they...reintegration?”
“That’s right. I forgot you can’t remember. We, key leaders of the Observatory Guild, must maintain society’s proper order. I need you to sign this document." 
She hands me a single sheet of paper. 
Signee concurs to the Observatory Guild Surveillance Operation (OGSO). Targeting Campaign — agents act as random citizens or family members of the subject in order to deploy tactics of harassment and provocation. 
===Mission===
======Make subject one of three statuses:======
#reintegrated — subject captured by OG, memory removed, new memories uploaded, command code = reset
#imprisoned — non-affiliated local or state authorities arrest subject for committing crime(s); provoke subject to commit crime(s)
#terminated — death of subject; provoke subject to suicide or stage accidental death; non-affiliated assassin may be employed
As long as the subject reaches one of the three statuses, the Observatory Guild prevents the subject from exposing operations to the populace.
The lady turns around and slowly steps toward me. “You know something? I remember when you were a little boy full of adventure and, oh my, so inquisitive. But you were too kind to become an agent with your stupid morals or whatever. Your assessment scores prompted us to assign you to civil duties. Then, we initiated your registration into the United States Education Program. Despite our efforts to educate you as a compliant citizen of the United States, you’ve had to reintegrate several times. And whether an agent attempts to frame your suicide or wreck you into a ditch, you somehow end up right back here.”
“Lady, let me outta here. You're full of shit! Let me go.”
“Don’t you remember? Don't you!? Of course not. Any further explanation is futile. It is my pleasure to wipe your memory away every reintegration. Indigo, finish reading the agreement and sign it. It's time. Do you understand, Indigo?”
“Stop calling me that! My name is Eli! Eligio Guerrero!”
“Was. It was your name. You are Indigo now. Reset.”
Category:Reality
Category:Weird