Tina Chan: imperfect

One of the terracotta bricks looked like a giant had come along and decided to prod that one brick inwards. Kristi touched the palm of her right hand against the sunken brick, not sure what she expected to happen next. As before, bricks pivoted away like dominos knocking into each other in order to form an entrance about three feet in diameter.

Making sure her electro-slate was set to flashlight mode, Kristi stepped into the room. The bricks immediately spun back into their original position, sealing off the chamber from the outside world.

The TV, Kristi noticed with interest, was actually plugged into an outlet. Curious to see if it worked, she tentatively pressed the power button. The screen glowed to life. The words “insert disc” flashed on the display. No film of dust coated the TV, suggesting it had recently been used.

Odd, Kristi thought. Whoever was using this TV was watching a DVD. I can’t think of anyone who would go through the hassle of attaining a DVD when you can get all the channels on an electro-slate.

Thinking there was nothing of interest left in the room, Kristi prepared to leave. She didn’t know what she had anticipated to find in this secret room, but she felt let down.

“You’re so childish, Kristi,” she chided herself. Her voice rang out abnormally loud in the empty space. “What did you expect? A secret vault of treasures?” She laughed at her own whimsical fantasies, but stopped shortly.

The light cast by her electro-slate reflected off the shiny padlock hanging off a solid, wooden door. The door embedded itself so deeply into the wall at the back of the room Kristi would’ve never noticed it had the padlock not given away its presence.

She fiddled with the lock for a few seconds; although Kristi wouldn’t call herself an expert, she did have some experience with picking locks. She set down the padlock almost as soon as she picked it up, though; she could tell there was no way to crack the lock without the key. The intricate gears nestled within it were so small and complex it would take her a good hour or two to pick, and she didn’t have the time.

Kristi swung her electro-slate-doubling-as-a-flashlight around the room one last time, making sure she didn’t miss anything else noteworthy.

“Didn’t see this either.” Kristi knelt and peeked beneath the TV.

A plastic case of some sort was stuck beneath the TV, as if someone had hid it in a hurry. She tugged the container out from where it was wedged. It was a DVD case. Nowhere on the cover did Kristi spot the government-approved stamp on it. In other words, this was an illegal DVD.

The words, Phantom of the Opera, were boldly printed on the covering. Beneath the title was a picture of some sort of a mask and rose. Kristi tested the title: “Phantom of the Opera.”

The way the name rolled off her tongue brought Kristi a sense of satisfaction, unlike the titles of the government issued TV programs: Explanation of the Elements of the Periodic Table for Level Five Students, The Complete History of the North Region of the Past Twenty Years, and The Channel of Weather Forecasts.

Feeling a bit rebellious, Kristi removed the DVD disk and inserted it into the designated slot behind the monitor. Then she clicked “play” on the remote and the screen flickered with words rolling across a black background.

Kristi didn’t notice her mouth hanging open when the movie ended until she realized she was drooling. She snapped her jaw shut, wondering, Did I really just watch a fictional movie ?

Bleep! Her electro-slate vibrated, bringing Kristi back to her senses. Crud. I completely lost track of time . She flicked on her slate and picked up the instafication.

“Kristi, where are you?” Maria’s concerned voice pricked at Kristi’s guilty conscience.

She checked the time—it was already seven-thirty; curfew was eight. Kristi quickly replied Maria, “Sorry—I lost track of time; I’ll be home in fifteen minutes or so.”

“Next time, leave an electro-note for me if you’re going to be staying out later than six.”

“I didn’t mean to stay out past dinner. I’m sorry—bye.”

Kristi muted the electro-slate and returned the DVD into its case. After doing one last check to confirm she didn’t leave anything behind, she stepped back out into the alleyway and right into a pair of waiting arms.

“Ahh—” Kristi let loose a yell that was instantly cut off by a hand clamped over her nose and mouth, stifling her breath. The next thing she knew, a brawny arm wrapped around her waist and she was being slung over a shoulder with ease.

Kristi’s heart pounded against her chest as she tried to escape the steel-like grip, but whoever was carrying her seemed completely unfazed by her thrashing and kicking. Her screams were muffled by the clammy hand still glued over her mouth.

Kristi’s arms and legs eventually grew weary and heavy with her fruitless struggles with escape. She willed her entire body to go limp and tried not to vomit up the food she had consumed earlier.

The abductor began running at a fast and steady pace through the empty streets; any normal person would have to either be insane or suicidal to roam the backstreets so close to curfew time. No Perfect would risk being caught by the curfew patrols.

The pavement bounced up and down from Kristi’s point of view, making her feel dizzy. The hand suffocating her breaths didn’t help with the situation.

“Cah ye mo ye han?” Kristi tried her best to mumble her words coherently. “Can’t breh.”

Her kidnapper didn’t remove the hand, however the hold over her mouth loosened a bit, enough for her to breathe more comfortably, but not enough for her to scream for help. Something cold and sharp pressed against the side of her cheeks. Kristi leaned her head away from the object; it was a gold stud earring.

Several minutes passed, the person carrying Kristi decelerated to a slow jog, then to a walk and placed her on the ground after ripping the drawstring bag off her shoulders.

Kristi braced her arms against a damp and moldy wall to steady her shaky legs and rebelling stomach. Her captor remained at a distance far enough to avoid being splattered by puke in case Kristi’s stomach decided to empty itself, but still within grabbing distance. Kristi finally assessed her surroundings once the world stopped spinning enough for her to find her balance.

Four bare walls of an abandoned building closed around her; the ceiling sagged dangerously low. If I was to jump up, Kristi contemplated, I bet I could touch it. Not that that would do me much good.

A man stood guard by the entrance; aside from the tattoo of a flock of raven trailing up the side of his neck, the man looked inconspicuous. He didn’t have a memorable face nor wore clothing that beckoned attention.

Another guy, who Kristi automatically assumed to be her abductor, was going through the contents of her drawstring bag. He wore a black shirt and ratty jeans; several gold hoops looped through his earlobes. Kristi counted nine cuffs in total and wondered whether the man’s ears got tired from bearing the weight of the jewelry.

The man looked up from her bag. “Nice electro-slate you have; latest model with all the newest updates.”

She recognized the raspy voice as the same one she heard while eavesdropping from behind the brick wall. They were the electro-slate bandits.

The man wearing the black shirt spoke again, “Thought you could make a fool out of me, didn’t you? Boss demoted me to rank two after today’s incident.”

The guy with the raven tattoo ground his teeth and spat on the ground. “Rank two,” he said to himself. “That’s a rank for newbies, not someone like me.”