The Endless Trial
I shot up from my bed, threw off my covers and bolted to the front door in my pajamas. I put on my shoes, long ago learning that the time it took to put them on was worth the time it saved when running over the glass on 13th Street. I threw my front door open and ran, not caring to close it behind me. As I ran down my driveway, two hooded figures approached me, ignoring the chaos roaring behind them.
“Woah, you’re early,” one started.
“Save it, I’m already on it,” I said, running past him.
“What about the — “
I waved my hand behind me, dismissing his second thought which consisted of “What about the Trials? Do you know how to solve them?” Well, the answer was no. The Trials were impossible. I had to figure them out to save humanity, otherwise, the day would reset. But they were seriously impossible.
In the street, I jumped over a car, then dove behind the fire hydrant, as another car crashed into it. I pushed a pedestrian out of the way, then stopped before a bus tipped over in front of me. I waited three seconds for the pedestrian to come after me. In one deft move, I pulled on the momentum of him trying to push me and threw him into the bus. His collision would cause an explosion in about 2 minutes, which would give me enough time to make it to the Fire Station by the time the garages opened to react to the fire. I was making good time today.
I continued running, not having any time to catch my breath. I would have time at the station. I made it to the Fire Station lawn and crouched behind the bushes furthest from the garage. Just far enough so they wouldn’t see me. I breathed deeply, making each breath count. By my seventh breath, the explosion would occur. And by my tenth, the garage would be opening for the first responders. I hated waiting.
Breathe.
BOOM
Breathe.
WEEEEWOOOOOWEEEEWOOOOO
Breathe.
I leaped over the bushes and made my way just as the garage door was closing after they sped off. I threw my shirt off just in time for the garage door sensor to see it and open the door once again. I picked up an ax and jumped into one of the remaining fire trucks. I hot-wired it and put on my shirt while it took a second to start up. I turned on the sirens and floored it, screeching out of the driveway.
The few cars on the road seemed to respect the sirens for the most part. The few that didn’t were crushed by the truck. I wasn’t a Fire Fighter, I didn’t have to respect their stupidity. I was trying to save so many more people. I crashed into the city’s library and raced inside, ax in hand. I ignored the civilians trying to call for my help, mistaking me for what I looked to be: a firefighter.
The library was closed (in actuality, it never had a chance to open) so I used the ax to bash the door in and run inside. I ran to the front desk where a sphinx sat behind the counter.
“So, you have found me,” it said, grandly.
“Yes, yes, the Trials, please, the Trials!!” I yelled impatiently. It would continue, slowly, until it finished its spiel about The Eternal Trials.
“You must complete a number of trials in order to save this world. It is a simple series of questions. Get a question wrong, and you will die, resetting the day. But, the new day will give you the opportunity to learn the answer to my trials. Do you understand?”
“Yes! Yes! Please just get started with your questions!” I yelled.
“Very well. How many people did you kill on the way here?”
“Three.”
“Correct. That makes you a murderer. Continuing. How many planets have I destroyed as a result of these trials?”
“Six hundred and twenty,” I said, gritting my teeth. It took me hundreds of tries to guess that number. The creature never relayed to me how many attempts I had before Earth joined the number of planets it would destroy. Worse was that I could never figure out the last question. I hated when it came to it.
“Correct. That makes me a bigger murderer. Now, for the final question. What am I thinking of right now?”
I wracked my brain. I must have said everything I could possibly think of. Thousands of nouns, verbs, adjectives, concepts, ideas, even the answer of “I don’t know.” Nothing worked. I walked numbly to the dictionary, where I had been going over every single word in it, one by one until I could hit the right answer. I flipped open to the letter P. It was possible that the sphinx’s answer was in the letter Zs, and I would run out of attempts before we reached there.
“Is it purple?” I closed my eyes, not bearing to see its smug face every time I got it wrong.
“Incorrect!”
The world faded around me.
I shot up from my bed, threw off my covers and bolted…