Test 1 Part 2: Hit and Fun

"I want to play a game, Jason. If you win, you get to live. If you lose, you're time in this world will have ended. There are rules, Jason, and if you want to win, you better listen carefully."

Jason swallowed hard. He was pressed firmly into his leather seats now, eyes wide and bottom lip quivering uncontrollably. This was madness, and it was infecting him.

"Are you listening, Jason?"

He nodded, unsure if he really was being watched or if voice on the CD was just toying with him.

"Good, because first I'm going to tell you why, Jason. Why you've been incarcerated inside the vehicle you've come to love so much." There was a pause, followed by what sounded like a distorted chuckle. "Ironic, isn't it? That the place where you feel most alive could very well become your coffin? Ah, Jason, I've watched you a long time now. Seen how you waste your time, your money, "pimping out your ride" as you put it, all in the name of vanity. The desire for strangers to think highly of you is an odd human trait, don't you think? But vanity isn't the worst of the sins."

Jason, who till now had been too scared to react, had allowed himself to come down off the seat. Now he was leaning forward, closer to the speakers. So far the voice hadn't said anything of real importance, but he didn't want to miss a word. His life could depend on it.

"Think back, Jason. Think back to your mother. What are the chances that she would be alive today if you had given in, sold your car, and purchased the expensive equipment she required to survive with her damaged kidneys and liver? 75? 80? Though I'm sure you've talked yourself out of any blame and guilt, I'm willing to bet that the thought has crossed your mind. Instead of saving a life, you kept the car – a replaceable, inanimate object - just so you could feel better about yourself. Whether you choose to believe it or not, you are…a murderer."

Jason's mouth was wide open now, a shocked 'O' of blackness in the pasty white of his face. The man on the CD knew so much… so much about him. And the accusations. Him? A murderer? What right does the sick fuck who kidnapped him have to call him that? He'd be furious if he wasn't so terrified.

"Two nights ago, you committed a hit and run. A small boy, age 10, ran out in front of your car to retrieve a thrown toy. You were speeding excessively. You hit him. He fell to the side walk. You didn't even stop to see if he survived. Is this all ringing a bell, Jason?"

It was, but Jason remained silent. He could clearly see the surprise on that small face, hear that sickening crunch his bumper made as it collided with the boys waist and knees. He'd just been… so scared. What else was he supposed to do? It was late afternoon, no one else was around. Obviously he'd been wrong.

"Well, Jason, that boy did survive. However, he is now a recovering quadriplegic, confined for the rest of his young life to a wheelchair and bed, being looked after by others. That's two lives, Jason, two lives you have single-handedly destroyed. It's time you learned the value of life, and to redeem yourself for the sins you have committed. Here come the rules, Jason."

Jason leaned in closer, ready to find out what this twisted… game… was all about.

"Your goal is to escape your car. There is more then one way to do this. None of them will be possible without a significant amount of pain, however. I bet you're wishing you hadn't spent so much money on those reinforced windows now, ay Jason? I guess it will come down to how much you value your wrists, as you will find nothing else substantial enough to break them inside the car. The doors hold secrets of their own: if you have tried them already, you know what I mean, if you haven't, I commend your perceptiveness."

Jason glared down at his lacerated fingers, the windshield cleaning cloth drenched in blood. He never was overly perceptive.

"You may use any method you like to escape the car: use the horn and honk for help if you like. But, bear in mind that cars hold a limited battery charge, and you don't have the ignition key. You're draining it right now, just listening to this CD."

Jason gulped. This was true, and there was no telling for how long the entertainment system had been turned on while he was asleep.

"The next rule is time. Your car is currently parked in the centre of a wreckers warehouse. No doubt it is too dark for you to see outside, but rest assured; on either side of your car lays two large crushing pistons, both programmed for automatic start at exactly 12:00 am. I sincerely hope you awaken before this time, but I'm sure you will. The sedatives I gave you were only in mild dosage."

Jason glanced at the flashing LCD clock. "11:45". How lucky he awoke in time. Somehow it didn't seem like a glorious victory.

"The good news is: once the pistons start, the lights will come on and you will see what can be seen. From there, you have 3 minutes before the pistons reach your car and you will be unable to move it. You'll want to have escaped by then or… well, you know the rest."

He sure did. It would be Jason-a-la-Sardine, freshest catch of the week. And his car would make a very nice fifty two thousand dollar tin.

"If you wish to start the car, know that there will be trials with that too. One you will find out for yourself, the other I will tell you for free. The car is on chocks, so remember that you're going to need an awful lot of power to get it over them. And one last thing; the location of the ignition key. Remember this clue: the key is to look past yourself, Jason. Look past yourself, your vanity, for once in your life, and freedom may be closer then you think. Good luck, Jason. X marks the spot."

The CD finished spinning, and Jason was left in silence. The eerie voice of the man who had abducted him and forced him to play this sick game still gnawed at his mind though, taunting him over his past misdeeds. "11:46" the blinking LCD said. Time was slipping away. He wasn't going to let this psycho beat him. How hard could it be to escape a car?