Chapter 2: Aptitude Test

Sherlock

My arm swings relentlessly on the corpse laying on the cold metal table in front of me. My fists ache and sting from the sudden burst of violence brought upon them without warning. It's been a long time since I've taken out my anger like this, I thought I had matured to the point where I didn't need to throw a tantrum to feel better, guess I was wrong.

Finally satisfied with the lack of feeling in my arms, I let them drop to my side only moving with the heaves from my chest. Starting to cool down, I notice the dampness of my shirt; if I have sweat stains, I'll need a clever excuse to get it past my family.

That's one reason why I'm hesitant to stay here. Even though I'm still the smartest man in the room, I'm surrounded by people who are too much like me for my comfort. For once I'd like to have a conversation with someone and not know exactly what their response is going to be. It's boring to live your life knowing what's going to happen, and it's never good when I'm bored.

"So, bad day, was it?" comes a mousy little voice behind me. Molly Hooper, I had almost forgotten she was here. Molly has a part time job in the morgue, a simple extra credit assignment turned into a hobby. Being in the same grade, I saw an opportunity to widen the variety of my experiments by befriending the shy girl.

"I need to know what bruises form in the next twenty minutes," I say needing an excuse as to why I requested a corpse so suddenly and started beating it. I only got one because they were factionless, and don't matter in the eyes of the faction. Most factionless die alone on the streets, they don't receive a funeral and no one comes forwards to claim the body; leaving them as perfect subjects for experiments.

"Oh." She fidgets, an annoying habit. "So, you've decided to stay in erudite?"

"What makes you say that?"

"Well, it's just," she says with a stamper. "Why would you start a new experiment if you weren't going to stay here.

With a sigh I grab my tie I carelessly tossed on the floor and begin to tie it around my neck. "I said within the next twenty minutes therefore the experiment will be complete before half an hour has past, I never stated whether I would continue this observation on other cadavers. No where in our brief conversation did I mention anything about factions or the choosing ceremony."

It takes a moment for Molly to reply, "well I don't know what I'm going to choose." She shakes her head. "Or what I'm going to get today, it's all rather overwhelming." I give her a sideways glance hoping she'll stop soon. "I mean, how are we supposed to decide who we are at sixteen? What If we change?"

I take the liberty to cut her off before this goes on any longer, "Molly. I suggest you stop rambling or you'll get an aptitude for candor, and I can't imagine you wanting to live in a place where girls can say what ever they want about you."

I struck a nerve; I can tell by her slight flush and change in her breathing pattern. "We should probably go now, if we want to make it on time."

I nod and we start towards the Hub. This is the moment we're supposed to realize where we belong, what we're rationally supposed to do. We are to trust the test and believe the results, even though we have the freedom to choose outside of what we get.

Molly and I join the line of people dressed in blue; lines of different colours run parallel to us. I could be any one of those colours if I wanted, but will I belong there? Do I belong here?

Sooner than I thought, it's my turn to go into the strangely lit room. All the walls are purely made of mirrors, I wonder why. Has the test already started? If I refuse to look at my reflection will that put me in abnegation? If I stare too long where would that put me?

I take the opportunity to straighten my already straight coat and proceed to the single chair in the room. A man wearing all black stands preparing a needle with bright orange liquid, he looks tired and beaten down with age. I wonder how much longer he'll be in dauntless; no one lasts long there after thirty-five.

"Sit," he says roughly.

I oblige and sit on the rough worn leather, black as the night sky. The man hands the cup of liquid to me. "This will enact the simulation designed to show us which faction you will be in, no need to worry most people get the faction they were born in." The way this man talked, so robotic. As if he's repeated only those words for his entire life. I tip back the glass to my mouth and swallow the liquid before I get the chance to taste anything. My vision blurs out of focus as I lose consciousness.

When I open my eyes everything from the room is gone except for the chair I'm still laying on. I lightly brush my fingers over the cracked leather feeling the coolness course up my hand. It feels so real.

Looking over at the mirror I stare at a reflection that's not mine. Instead of finding myself laying on the chair, my reflection is standing and staring at me with a smile on his face. The hair stands up on my arms, this isn't right. Suddenly, the boy in the mirror steps through his glass wall, leaving it empty on the other side.

"Choose," he says with a muffled voice, as if under water.

Out of the corner of my eye, I see movement. Turning my head, I see two pedestals; one with a knife and the other with a piece of meat. I get up to survey the objects. "CHOOSE," the boy shouts.

"What am I choosing for?" I yell back.

My reflection just crosses his arms giving me the same look Mycroft does when I don't cooperate, a look I never wanted to see my face make. I look back at the objects, based on the size of the meat and the sharpness off the knife; I will probably have to fight something. Even if there's nothing to fight, the knife would be the safer bet unless they intend to throw me in a closet for days without food, but this meat is uncooked making it unlikely to be meant for myself.

I pick up the knife slowly, adjusting my grip to account for the weight. This knife was definitely meant to harm something dangerous; I made the right choice. A snarl sounds right beside my ear, leaving hot breath run down my neck. I look at the mirror not moving my head to see it's back to normal, I can see myself, and the dog right behind me.

A loud bark echoes off the wall and rings in my ears, I have to kill this dog before it kills me. Normally I would only try to wound it but in this case, I can't risk angering it more. This dog wouldn't think twice about murdering me.

I search the dog's reflection for the best place to attack, I only allow myself a few seconds, but that's all I need. Accounting for the reversed image a mirror will give, I snap around to come face to face with the snarling beast. With a quick jerk of my arm, I impale the knife right through my enemy's heart. Blood runs down my hand and foul breath intoxicates the air.

In a moment of triumph, I stand proudly above my challenger, basking in the thought of passing the test. For a moment, the dog looks similar to the cadaver I "experimented" on this morning. Both mean nothing to people, and are just supposed to be stepped on and overlooked. Have I really become that kind of person? Who beats the weaker? I can't even escape the fear in my simulations, that I have become a monster.

My eyes snap open to be violated with bright light and the sight of the man at a computer. He just stands there for a moment with his back turned, did he fall asleep?

Just before I'm about to get up, the man turned. "You're pretty smart for you age," he says starting to clean up.

"Well, I am erudite-born."

"Yes, and I believe your aptitude says the same."

"Believe? You don't know my aptitude? How can you not know?" I ask a little angry.

The man sighs and rubs the bridge of his nose, "I know your aptitude is erudite or dauntless, it's just a little fuzzy. All the choices you made in there were what we usually peg as dauntless, but the way you came to those decisions was too calculated and precise."

"So," I drag. "My aptitude is erudite?"

He nods, "you have an erudite aptitude, your just probably more reckless than others in your faction." He rises again and gets his equipment ready for the next person. "You can leave now."

I get up numbly and walk out on auto pilot. I'm erudite, just as everyone said. I don't know whether to be relieved that I was right, or disappointed that I have to stay here. The man's words still stick in my mind though, for a moment he didn't know if I was erudite or not. Maybe I could fit in somewhere else.

Maybe I belong somewhere else.