Chapter 109 - May 19th, 2020 ????

“Check out what I’m listening to,” he exclaimed excitedly as he pressed play on an enormous jukebox. I’m not entirely sure how the dream began, but that was the first thing I saw.

Why are you so happy all of a sudden?

“Maynard, are you okay?” I asked, uneasy. I don’t know why I felt concerned for him; it’s not like he was a righteous person or anything. I’m too sympathetic sometimes.

“Sure, I am! Why wouldn’t I be?” he asked with a grin as the song started playing. Something about the music felt strangely familiar; I knew I had heard something just like it before.

“Just after what happened and all… Say, what song is this?” I asked curiously.

“Rainbow Warrior by Bleak House, their riff was stolen by Metallica who became world-famous while the former remained a whisper,” he replied, shaking his head.

“I bet I know an even more obscure band.”

“I highly doubt that. I can name just about every song released in the past two centuries,” he said with a smug smile.

“Okay, then do you know A Wasted Life (At 17) by Inner City?” I asked, hoping that he wouldn’t know it. It honestly drove me mad how intelligent he was; I was a child compared to him. That’s the thing with psychopaths; they’ll charm the hell out of you to get your trust and then screw you over. Their ultimate life goal is to ruin as many lives as possible. Maynard would have gotten along just fine with that Marquis de Sade lunatic they taught us about in World History class. How crazy was he? Well, they named the word sadism after him sooooo…

“Inner City? I can’t say I know that one,” he replied with a disappointed expression. That’s the thing with me; I know some highly obscure songs such as Contaminate of Reason by The Brink of Sanity and Bottle Dreams by Eyedea. That latter song makes me ball my eyes out every time. It once saved me from committing suicide when I was fourteen. I took my parents’ box cutter and was about to slit my wrists when I suddenly remembered it. I listened to the song, and by the time I was done, I didn’t have it in me to end it all. Following this, I went on a binge of his music; that’s when I discovered Even Shadows Have Shadows. No song has described my state of mind quite like that one has. Unfortunately, Eyedea died in 2010, so meeting him is out of the question. We miss you, Mikey. R.Eye.P.

“Ha, I knew I could get you1!” I said smugly before blowing a raspberry. It was quite a childish thing to do; I’ll admit that much.

“This was only one test; there are two more,” he said, completely serious.

“How bad could they be?” I asked, chuckling.

“You’ll see…” he said in a grim tone as the surrounding room began transforming into a completely different one. The most noticeable difference between the two rooms was the walls’ condition. While they were perfectly spotless in the former, here they were peeling away and chipping. There were countless cobwebs everywhere; you couldn’t walk three feet without running into one.

“Why are we here?” I asked curiously.

“This test is here to measure what kind of person you are. I will give you three options, of which you choose the one that most applies to you. In the end, I will give you a personality type. Oh, and if you lie in the slightest, the test is over. Do you agree to be completely honest the entire way through?”

“I do,” I replied anxiously. I worried about what kind of questions he would ask me; it was clear they would be personal.

“Let’s begin,” he said, snapping his fingers. As soon as he snapped them, a mahogany desk with a futuristic laptop on it appeared. I knew the test would take place on the computer, so I sat down and opened it up. As soon as I did, I was greeted with the first question.

Your boss wants you to participate in corporate espionage; in return for participating, he promises you a raise. Do you accept the offer, or do you decline?

I looked at my three options, and this is what each one said in order; No, this is an unethical thing to do, I’d only accept it if I knew I could get away with it, and Of course, money is money!

I considered lying and choosing the first option before remembering what Maynard told me. I decided to be honest and picked the second choice as my answer. Look, I’m sorry, but if somebody says they’ll make my life easier, I’ll gladly take them up on their offers. Besides, life’s boring without a bit of chaos in it… It feels good to be evil sometimes.

The screen flashed neon gray after I chose my answer, and I saw text that read NEUTRAL 0+. I guessed then that the good option awarded you one point while the evil subtracted one. If you were neutral, you stayed right where you were. Then, the next question appeared. Calling it bizarre would be an understatement.

Your best friend and grandfather are both dying. The doctor tells you he only has enough medicine to save one person and that the other will inevitably die. What do you d0 in this situation?

Here’s what options I got for the question: Save your grandfather; family is blood; after all, Save your best friend, unlike your grandfather, his life is just beginning, and Ignore them both and leave them to die.

Dude, why is it asking me such tough questions?

I know this sounds horrible, but I chose my friend over my grandfather in the three options I’d been given. Once again, it gave me zero points which I thought was unfair; at least I was honest…

The next question was a rather interesting one. It brought back memories of watching Breaking Bad.

You cannot afford college tuition and don’t want to borrow student loans. One day, your friend offers you to venture into drug dealing; on the one hand, this will get you all the money required; on the other, it’s highly illegal. How do you approach this situation?

These were the options given to me: Find a better job and stay away from drugs, Call the police on your friend, and Oh, well, it makes me money.

To be completely honest with you, I wouldn’t call the cops on a drug dealer unless he was dealing to kids. If people want to do drugs and they sell well, then I see it as a lucrative opportunity. I chose the evil option and heard the computer let out a growl. Blood-red text that read Evil -1 followed this.

Am I evil? Yes, I am.

My last question was undoubtedly the most morally gray one; it was concerned with whether a shoplifter should be arrested or let go. It read You catch a shoplifter in your store and are about to call the police when the woman says that she steals to provide for her children. Do you take mercy on her, or do you still call the police?

These were the options available to me: Call the police, Let her go, and Show her what happens to thieves. I won’t lie; reading that last option made my stomach churn.

I took pity on her and let her go. After picking the second option, the screen flashed sky blue, and I saw text that read Good +1.

I concluded the test following this question. The screen read calculating answers, and I waited anxiously for my results.

After around twenty seconds, the machine calculated my final score. I was curious what personality type it would give me. The results surprised me. It read, You are neither good nor bad. You live for your freedom above all else and only do good things when you are rewarded for your actions. You are the type of person to stop a robbery and then pickpocket the victim when he’s not looking. Your weaknesses include indecisiveness, impulsivity, and being easily irritated.

I mean, that is true to an extent…

The computer printed my results out of the bottom of the screen and shut down the moment it was finished. Maynard materialized in the room and asked how the test went about three seconds later.

“It said I am neither good nor bad.”

“That’s the most dangerous personality type you can have,” he said disapprovingly, shaking his head.

“Show me what it’s like to be the last one standing and teach me wrong from right. And I’ll show you what I can be. Say it for me. Sing it to me. And I’ll leave this life behind me. Say it if it’s worth saving me,” I sang softly in response; it was the lyrics to Savin’ Me from Nickelback. I swear they’ve written some of the greatest songs of the 21st century. Just to Get High sends chills all over my body; the guitar solo is pure ecstasy. I’m lucky I never got into drugs during my teens; I had about a million chances to. The closest I’ve come to getting high was when I was a kid and stupidly ate a whole container of McCormick ground nutmeg, not knowing it could get you high.

I felt nothing for about four hours before experiencing severe nausea together with tachycardia. Don’t even get me started on how dehydrating that shit was. Every few minutes, I needed to drink a glass of water to prevent my mouth from becoming as dry as the Sahara. The only pleasant part of the experience was finding everything a million times more humorous; I would randomly start giggling without understanding why. Oh, and it made music sound fantastic; my dad played Into the Night by Santana at dinner while I was high as a kite. I remember my dad commented that my eyes were extremely bloodshot and looked like they were bleeding. I’m pretty sure I just nodded and laughed like a maniac in response. He put some drops in them, but they would become dry in a matter of minutes. The song felt like it was an hour long as I listened to it; time itself had slowed down. Anyways, it wasn’t the most pleasant experience of my life. I got a hangover the following day and genuinely felt like I was sick with the flu. I experienced an auditory hallucination of a group of cats meowing loudly. I remember looking all over my room for them, but they were nowhere to be seen. I heard a bird chirp for what felt like two hours. I was both confused and terrified by the hallucinations. I did not know what they were at the time, so I thought that all of this was real. I later found out that nutmeg affects the endocannabinoid system, so I guess my experience was a lot like smoking too much pot. I suppose that explains the horrible short-term memory I had on it and the feeling of your body becoming massively heavier. I sure know a lot about drugs for someone who’s never intentionally done them…

“Ah, using the lyrics to Savin’ Me by Nickelback in a real-life conversation,” he said with a tiny smile.

“Indeed. Now, listen, can I go? I’ve done what you’ve requested.” I pleaded, hoping that he wouldn’t become the old Maynard and force me to spend the rest of my life with him. I was already enough to deal with; living with Maynard would turn me clinically insane.

“Sure, you can go home. All you have to do is drink this,” he said as some sort of glass bottle materialized in his hands.

“What, why…?” I asked, confused.

“That’s just the only way, kiddo…” he replied with complete seriousness.

“Well… okay, I trust you,” I said cautiously as I took the bottle from him. I put it to my lips and took the first sip. The moment it touched my lips and tongue, I felt a robust numbing sensation like what kava gives you. The taste was abysmal, further compounded by me being a supertaster. The best way to describe the taste is that it tasted like a combination of urine and black licorice.

“You really expect me to finish the whole thing?” I asked with a groan. He simply nodded in response.

“Fine…” I said in an annoyed tone as I chugged down the rest of the bottle. I could barely keep the contents down because of how much they upset my stomach. I genuinely felt like my stomach was being cut open by a knife. That’s when it hit me. The first noticeable effect I got was double vision; it made reading text impossible unless I closed one eye. Twitches all over the body followed this. I was beyond uncomfortable; at least RLS only affects one part of the body! My paranoia returned from its vacation, and I heard sinister whispers, which didn’t help matters. I heard random people discussing how to get away with my murder; it was a horrifying experience.

“Maynard, what have you given me?!” I asked hoarsely. My voice was so faint that I was practically whispering.

“This, my friend, is called good old-fashioned revenge,” he replied with a wicked smile.

He actually tricked me…

“What’s going to happen to me?” I asked anxiously.

“Not much; you’ll experience your worst life moments over again. I specifically designed Halivax to target negative memories. I just have one thing left to say,” he answered with a cruel smile.

“What?” I asked in terror.

“Welcome to hell.”

Then I experienced it all over again; I was back at my father’s funeral. I was back at the hell I tried so hard to escape from. All of my progress was seemingly in vain and never amounted to anything at all.

*Just when all seems fine, and I’m pain-free, you jab another pin, jab another pin in me.*