“Look, all I’m saying is if they didn’t want anyone wandering through their woods, they should have put up some signs or fences or something,” Vin stated matter-of-factly, leaning back in his flimsy chair as he looked up at the two frowning police officers. “How was I supposed to know it was private property?”
It wasn’t the first time Vin had been arrested, and it certainly wouldn’t be the last. In fact, he’d been arrested for trespassing so many times, he’d actually started his own little blog where he reviewed different police stations based on how well they treated him. So far, this interrogation had been a generous three out of ten. They hadn’t even offered him any doughnuts for crying out loud! His seventeen followers were going to be absolutely appalled.
While he was thinking about the scathing review he was going to leave, the larger of the two officers that Vin had mentally dubbed Officer Bigs reached under the table and placed a standard no trespassing sign between them. Except that someone had clearly taken a sharpie and added a few letters to the sign, changing it from a ‘No Trespassing’ sign to a ‘GNome Trespassing’ sign.
Clearing his throat, Vin slowly stuck his black tinted fingers into his pockets, giving the two officers his most sincere smile.
“Well now you understand why I had to go in there. I mean, if there were gnomes-”
“Cut the crap kid,” Officer Bigs said, frowning at the dirt encrusted vagabond they’d had the misfortune of picking up that night. “We ran your license after we grabbed you. Do you want to explain how you already have thirty-four records of arrest for trespassing at the age of twenty-two? Not to mention the eighteen arrests for loitering, seven for jaywalking, and one for…” He paused, double checking the printout he was holding in his meaty hands. “...illegally keeping a donkey in a bathtub?”
“Now in my defense, Mr. Scruffles was getting pretty dirty-”
“Vinnie,” Mr. Smalls said, interrupting him and causing Vin to wince at the use of his full name. Other than all the neglect and physical abuse, his name was the one thing he’d never forgive his parents for. What was he, an Italian mobster from the 20’s?
“It’s a miracle you’ve only done a few days of jail time here and there up to this point. Hell, it’s an even bigger one you haven’t been shot yet with how much trespassing you do,” Officer Smalls continued, sounding actually worried for him, unlike his big lug of a partner. “But you’re collecting arrests like they’re going out of business. If this keeps up, it’s only a matter of time before you get slapped with something more serious and get thrown in prison. All it takes is one angry judge and your life is over before it even begins.”
“That’s why I make sure to practice my comedy routine so often,” Vin said, hoping his grin was big enough to hide how much the officer's genuine concern hurt him. Most officers just read him the riot act before chucking him in the drunk tank for the night rather than waste their time on him. He always hated when he got picked up by one that actually cared and normally dealt with such cops by doubling down.
“So long as I keep the judges laughing, they usually let me off with a warning.”
Sighing, Officer Smalls held up a hand, stopping his partner right before he could really get into his bad cop routine and start shouting at Vin about how he’d never survive in prison or some crap like that. “Alright then. I can see we won’t be able to convince you of anything. Luckily for you Mr. Jones isn’t planning on pressing charges, but we’ll keep you here overnight just to be safe. You’ll be free to leave in the morning.”
Their interrogation done, Vin let Officer Bigs lead him over to the drunk tank, giving the man a crisp, mocking salute as the walking donut factory locked the cell door, scowling at him.
Collapsing on the available bunk, Vin wriggled around, trying to get comfortable as the officers left him to his own devices. Unfortunately for him the cot was hard as a rock, and the only blanket they’d given him was rather thin. He supposed most people unfortunate enough to spend the night in here were often too drunk to really feel the cold.
Change that; two point five out of ten, Vin thought, mentally updating his future blog post as he stared at the blank ceiling. He didn’t actually own a computer, and typing out his reviews on his old smartphone was a pain and a half, so he’d have to find a nearby library or something once he got out. He was running out of cash too, so after that, he’d have to decide if it was time to snag a new part time job or try his luck at panhandling again. On his way into town, he’d noticed a particularly busy intersection the other day that might-
Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.
Would you like to start over in a new world?
Startled at the floating words suddenly appearing directly in front of him, Vin flinched violently backwards and nearly tumbled out of his cot. Blinking, he sat up and looked around, staring at the words as they moved with him, never leaving the center of his vision.
“What on Earth…” he muttered, blinking a few more times and rubbing his eyes. When the words failed to leave or change in any way, he leaned back against the cold brick wall of his cell, staring at the mysterious sentence. He hadn’t taken any shrooms or LSD in months, and he highly doubted the officers that had brought him in had dosed him with something when he wasn’t looking. He’d always dismissed the crazy homeless people who would rant about the government testing mind control devices on them, but maybe they’d actually been onto something.
“Hey guys?” Vin called out, cursing when he realized he’d never actually gotten either of the two officer’s names. “Either of you seeing this?” Unfortunately, either they were choosing to ignore him, or they were busy doing something else, because neither Officer Bigs or Smalls showed up when he shouted. Sighing, he shook his head, turning his attention back to the floating sentence.
“There’s not even a checkbox or anything,” he complained to the CIA agent that was no doubt monitoring him through his embedded microchip or something. He knew dentists were up to no good with their supposed wisdom tooth surgery. How convenient for them.
Vin closed his eyes and tried to go to sleep, but that quickly proved to be impossible. No matter how much he tried to ignore the strange hallucination, his thoughts kept coming back to the strange, floating text that refused to leave his vision. Cursing, he sat back up and glared at the mysterious question.
“Fine, I’ll play. Do I want to start over in a new world? I don’t know, do I get any sort of information here? Like, how’s this world’s healthcare system? Are there flying bears with lasers for feet to worry about? Are humans farmed for their organs or some other Lovecraftian crap? I don’t know if the CIA’s budget is less than it used to be or something, but you guys really gotta do better than this.”
He paused, giving the floating sentence a chance to respond somehow. Lord knows if he was the guy on the other end of the camera with a keyboard in front of him he wouldn’t have been able to stop himself from deleting the first sentence and start sending the person assorted ‘your momma’ jokes or something similar. But as the minutes passed and the sentence remained unchanged, Vin began to wonder if this truly was something… more.
“Okay, assuming I’m not tripping… and that I’m not participating in some horrific experiment that will come to light in sixty years and turn into a meme… that really only leaves one explanation,” he muttered, squinting at the floating words. Regardless of if he squinted or unfocused his eyes, while everything else in his vision turned blurry and impossible to make out, the crisp, floating words didn’t change in the slightest. He wasn’t sure why that was the deciding factor for him, but for some reason, that small piece of evidence finally convinced him. Clearing his throat, he looked up at the ceiling.
“Okay first, I’d like to apologize about that time I asked Sarah to dress up like a nun while things were getting hot and heavy in the motel room. Honestly it was my dick doing the talking, and I really hope that doesn’t factor into if I go up or down when I respond to this.”
His piece said, Vin read over the words one last time, grinning at even the slightest possibility that this might actually be real. He’d been cursed from a young age with wanderlust, and ever since running away from home he’d made it his mission to go out into the world and do and see as much of it as he possibly could before he died. But if some higher power was actually offering him the chance to explore an entirely new world?
Well that was a no brainer.
“Alright, you win God or Buddha or whoever you are!” Vin yelled, getting to his feet and planting his hands on his hips. “My answer is yes! Yes, I want to go to this new world of yours! So, how does this work? Do I click my heels together three times, or-SONOFABI-”
The world erupted into a blaze of light and color almost immediately after he gave the sentence his answer, and Vin found himself screaming as the swirling lights blazed around him. But before he could even take in what was happening and regret his choice, the world’s craziest light show ended just as quickly as it began, and he found himself standing inside a large concrete room beside a couple dozen other people looking as dazed and confused as he was.
Vin swayed on his feet and probably would have fallen over, if it wasn’t for the firm hand that grabbed his shoulder. Following the arm attached to said hand, Vin found himself staring at a large, muscular man that made officer Bigs look like a runt.
Slightly more concerning than the man’s monstrous muscles were the military fatigues stretching over his giant form and the assault rifle slung over his shoulder. As the two of them made eye contact, the mysterious soldier gave him a nod.
“Welcome to Project Ark.”