Disclaimer: I don't own Divergent.
One thing the transfers like me didn't count on was the second stage of initiation beginning not with a bang, but with a whimper.
Specifically, the frightened whimpers that emit from the closed room at the end of the grim hallway. This morning we obediently trailed Amar as he led us through Dauntless headquarters, past the dormitory and the training room. As soon as we arrived he told us to just wait outside, then he disappeared inside the mysterious room.
He didn't come out for about ten minutes. Then he surprised everyone by suddenly opening the door and waving one of the transfers forward. The lucky, or unlucky, whichever way you look at it, initiate was Amy.
Now the rest of us can do nothing but listen as she makes her terror known to the world. We hear her squawks of desperation slip out into the narrow corridor, despite the heavy door staying in its place. I can't help thinking the sounds coming from her are like music, the nail-biting score underneath her own private horror game.
I suppose that for us, part of the gameplay is not being privy to the events unfolding behind that door. It's akin to psychological torture, and I would resent the Dauntless for it if I didn't know they were trying to help us face our fears.
The sounds become more unbearable to hear as the session with Amy drags on. Paranoia edges its way into my psyche, and I fear Amar is physically hurting the girl. What can he be doing in that room? Is he stubbing out a cigarette on Amy's sensitive flesh? Plunging the end of a butter knife into her eyeball? Prying her fingernails from their beds one by one?
Thank God, whatever happened in that room, it was none of those. Amy slowly emerges into the hallway a minute after going silent. Amar's behind her, helping to steady her. Her face is paler than usual and it seems her knees are gonna give out. But at least her whole body is intact.
She takes a seat on the floor, in the same place she sat before Amar summoned her. Then our instructor chooses his second victim, and lo and behold, it's me.
"Abnegation. You're next." I know better than to argue, so I go ahead and follow Amar into the room at the end of the hallway.
It's not well lit, but I still recognize the chair and computer sitting in the center. These same instruments were in the room where the aptitude tests are taken.
"A simulation?" I look at Amar questioningly.
"The less you know, the better," he says without elaboration. "Just sit down." I do as he commands, and he gets the equipment ready.
While he's busy, I check my watch and try to imagine what Shauna's doing. She'll be fighting that girl any minute now. It's taking the Dauntless-born initiates longer to get through the first phase of initiation, since there are more of them.
Jason sat as far away from me as possible while we waited for Amy's session to finish. I was honestly thankful for the distance. The day after we fought, it occurred to me he might have one evil trick or another up his sleeve to get me back for beating him. Yet he hasn't attempted anything. No matter what, it's probably good for us to steer clear of each other.
"And now…" Amar's done preparing the equipment. He looks at me in a dramatic fashion. "A preview of what's to come. You're going to see something incredibly scary. It'll be in your head, but it'll certainly feel real. We're going to see how quickly you can calm yourself down. Pretty simple, but a lot harder than it seems."
I just swallow hard and nod. Then all of a sudden, there's a shooting pain in the side of my neck. Amar just stuck it with a needle, and I didn't know he would. My body flinches.
"Be brave, Tobias," Amar says quietly.
Maybe I don't want to be. Maybe I'd rather bail. But this'll be everyone's first time, and I should know initiation only gets harder in the second stage. My one choice is to accept what comes and ride it out.
I sit back in the reclining chair and wait, then I'm pulled under by the simulation.
I stand on a platform in the middle of an underground railway station. Travelers in long, dark-colored coats and wide-brimmed hats stroll by. The wheels of their suitcases roll noisily on the hard, metallic floor. Overhead, the lights are tinted amber, casting a soft yellowish glow on the people's faces.
Has to be a foreign country I'm in, even though we learned that all other countries were wiped out in the last worldwide conflict. I can't distinguish the faction of origin of any person on the platform. Perhaps, God forbid, their society was formed without factions, and there's no method with which we can tell where someone belongs.
Yep, I think as the train appears. I'm definitely not in Chicago anymore. The train decelerates as it approaches, meaning it's gonna stop to let the passengers on. Wouldn't happen in a million years in Dauntless.
I feel a giggle form in my throat. Yeah, I guess this place counts as "creepy", with its freakishly colored lights and the people who all dress alike, but why should I be afraid when I'm gonna get to ride a luxury train? I can see through the windows where I'll sit. There are actual seats in the car, and they look real comfortable.
Maybe that's what the Dauntless are scared of. Getting complacent and turning fat and lazy, because they no longer have to run to catch the train.
I would let out a snort of derision, if Amar weren't monitoring the simulation. This is the most terrifying situation the Dauntless could think to put me in?
With an exhale of steam, the train comes to a complete stop. All the doors open simultaneously. I enter the nearest car and look for a seat that's available.
Excellent. Just what I wanted. There's no empty seat that isn't right next to another loud passenger, whether that's a guy blabbing on the phone or two people chatting. I see a door at the very back that presumably opens up into the next car, so I try it.
It's locked. I let out a big sigh. This isn't scaring me, but it is annoying.
Giving up, I select an aisle seat in the back row. The backpack I was carrying thumps on the adjacent seat as I put it down. My eyes close for a second, I'm so tired. Whatever I was doing before I came to the station, I was hard at work doing it.
Across the aisle, two rows in front of me, these two blond girls are talking. The seats are arranged so that they're facing me. As with the travelers on the platform, I can't guess their faction of origin. They both have long wavy hair and a lot of makeup on their faces, and one has an olive green jacket on while the other wears a peach-colored blouse. Peach is slouching a little in her seat. She seems to be dominating the conversation, while Olive Green just looks at her and listens.
Their indistinct chatter bores me, and I let my eyes roam elsewhere in the car. Two rows directly in front of me, right across from the two blondes, is a ginger-haired man in a suit and tie. He's currently speaking to someone on his cell phone. I just watch him for a while, that is until his gaze suddenly meets mine.
Oh shit. My eyes dart to the side just in time.
For the next couple of minutes, I pretend to be interested in the view from the window. But what I'm really doing is looking at my own face reflected in the glass and waiting, somewhat restlessly, for the real scares to begin.
Just sit tight, I tell myself. Maybe something malfunctioned in the simulation program. Maybe, as irrational as it sounds, Peach's nails-on-a-chalkboard voice is what I'm supposed to find most horrifying. Maybe I'm so zoned out right now, I don't even know I'm experiencing something scary. Maybe…
Wait, what just happened?
I wasn't even aware I did it, but my head turned back to look in the direction of the ginger-haired man and the two blond girls. They're gone, all three of them. When did they get up and exit the car? I think I would've heard them stomp out of the car, especially those two girls.
Speaking of noise, the car is now totally silent. Did all the other passengers leave as well?
Did they somehow… pop out of existence? A shudder runs through my body as I'm contemplating what might have happened.
I nervously try to recall when the loud and incoherent chatter faded. Okay, so maybe I was spacing out to the point where I lost track of time. But this is a Dauntless fear simulation, where you can't rely on either logic or the laws of physics.
I stretch my neck a little to check out the interior of the car. These seats are so tall, they obstruct my line of sight. Wait, there is one passenger still on board. A man, sitting ten or so rows away but facing me, with skin as dark as mine. I can't discern the finer details of his face. But curiosity makes me want to look at him further. Is he wearing sunglasses, or are those just deep shadows over his eyes?
Do I even want to know? His eyes kinda look… off.
I feel uncomfortable staring at him for so long. I shift, so my head's no longer sticking out into the aisle. Now I can't see the man over the rows of seats in front of me.
Yet my curiosity remains. I have to find out what the deal is with that guy's eyes. I crane my neck for a second time, looking into the aisle where I know I'll see that man.
There he is, still facing me. He's in the same exact pose he was in when I first saw him, with those same dark shadows over his eyes. Is it safe to keep looking at him? He might be asleep. Actually, I'm now realizing he bears an uncanny resemblance to…
Whoa! His head suddenly juts forward, like he's a striking crocodile. I jump back in my seat.
My heart's gonna take a while to settle down. I now know the man was staring at me, too. That gesture he did with his head was like his way of saying, "What are you looking at?"
Still, the mysterious man has yet to make a single sound. Silence reigns in the car, encouraging me to check out the man again. It's probably unwise, but I feel I should keep one eye on him at all times. Just knowing he's nearby gives me the heebie-jeebies.
My neck stretches for a third time. Slowly my head inches its way into the aisle, where I see…
Oh shit! My head retracts like it just met a blow from a hammer. In a span of just a few seconds, the man got up and stood in the aisle, and when I dared to look in his direction, he quickly dipped into a crouch and bared his teeth, like he was about to sprint at me.
He didn't, thank God. But I've lost sight of him, and I still don't hear anything from him, not a shout, not a threat, not a whisper, nothing.
I could try to run, but the locked door behind me would force me to go toward him.
I've no other choice but to look in the aisle again. Releasing a shaky breath and gathering all my courage, I lean to the side. I brace myself to lay eyes on a sight that would rival my worst nightmares.
Eventually I see… nothing. The aisle is completely empty.
That's not good at all. The man's gone into hiding, but where? How many rows away from me is he? Five? Four? Two? I'm not able to tell, and that terrifies me. As I duck behind the seat in front of me to take a breather, I have a thought that's positively spine-tingling.
That man bears an uncanny resemblance to… Marcus. Same height, same build, same skin tone. Same Abnegation clothing, same domineering aura that only a council member would have.
My entire body shakes from head to toe. The simulation managed to combine two of my worst fears, confinement and Marcus. I'm an easy target at the very back of the car, and I know it's inevitable that I'll run into my childhood abuser.
To hold him off for as long as possible, I keep searching for him. I lean to my other side, so I can peek through the small gaps in between the seats.
Oh there he is. I can just barely glimpse part of his face, but after years with him, he's easily identifiable. He is now less than four rows away. And then I see him pull his lips back and stretch his mouth wide in a leer. It's as though he is grinning, grinning in a terrible predatory way.
The fear I'm feeling intensifies to the point where I literally can't feel anything else. Like a marionette that got its strings cut, I fall limply against the back of my seat. My open mouth gapes, unable to release my scream.
Finally, I hear it. A faint footfall, frighteningly close to where I'm sitting. I don't know if Marcus is two rows away or just one, or if he's already next to me, but either way, I'm only seconds from an agonizing death.
Not wanting to look at Marcus' eyes, I turn my face toward the window. In it I see my own reflection. Mere inches away, I see the reflection of Marcus' head emerging from behind one of the seats.
I twist, and I manage just one brief glance at his face before he's on me.
Bam, less than a second and I'm flat on my back on the floor below my seat. Marcus' elephant-like weight crushes my chest, quite possibly snapping one or more of my ribs. His filthy rubbery fingers squash my fragile eyelids, like my eyes are two grapes that he desperately needs to peel.
I can't get him off me. I can't even see. I'm close to simply passing out from fear, because I now know that this Marcus is not human. No, he's a demon with formless black pits for eyes and too-long crocodilian teeth. A creature that should not exist.
That's just it, the lightbulb in my head says to me. This isn't the Marcus from your childhood. This is a simulation monster, and simulations are created in your head. You can alter the simulation, you can fight it. You just gotta focus!
I do. I try to concentrate. I have to call on God to take the wheel, because I'm so completely drained from feeling fear and failing to fight Marcus off. But eventually I gain the strength to crawl out from under Marcus. I punch him feebly in the face, knocking him off balance for a short while.
Then I lurch for the door that'll open up into the next car. It's not locked this time, it opens without resistance.
Fresh air fills my lungs. I could pause to breathe it in, but I don't, I just go on running. Because if I stop for even one second, that creature from hell will be on top of me again, and the torture will never end.
One blink later, I'm back in the reclining chair.
I gasp like a fish that's been plucked out of water. My body keeps twitching involuntarily and nothing I do will make it stop. I probably won't calm down until long after I leave this room. But I need to hear from Amar how I did.
As my breaths finally start to slow, I look over at Amar. He's sitting before the computer, studying the simulation results. But then he turns and stares at me.
"What?" I ask nervously.
"You were in there for five minutes," is all he says.
My heart begins to pound. "Is that bad?"
"No." Amar frowns. "It's very good, actually." But there's no sign of pleasure on his face, only a vague anxiety. He doesn't clear up why it's there, and that puts me even more on edge.
I place both feet on the floor and hold my head in my hands. I might not have panicked visibly in the simulation, but that image of the warped Marcus on the train keeps flashing in my mind, and my heart rate threatens to shoot up once again.
Clenching my teeth, I shake both of my hands, which are tingling, like they're gonna go numb in a few seconds. I tell myself that what I saw wasn't real, that it was just a simulation. Simulation. That's all it was.
Amar looks done with whatever he was doing. "Come on, walk it off," he says to me. He comes up behind me and tries to take one of my arms. "I'll help you back to the dorm."
I'm already shaking my head. "I don't need…"
"It wasn't a request," Amar cuts in. The look on his face is hard as concrete, and that tells me I should comply. He moves to the side and opens a door nearby, a different door than the one we entered through. I follow him down a short, dark hallway and through a series of corridors that lead back to the transfer dorm. I can hear my footsteps and Amar's, as well as our breaths, but nothing else.
Suddenly, my instructor ceases walking. He puts his hands on my shoulders so I'll be facing him. "Can I ask you something?"
I cringe, anticipating his questions about Marcus. Turns out, he's preoccupied with something else. "How'd you get out of that car?"
"I opened the door," I say plainly.
"Wasn't it locked at first? I mean, when you first tried to open it?"
I nod, lost as to where this is going.
Amar's usually amiable face is now deadly serious. He tightens his grip on my shoulders. "So you made that door open with just the power of your mind?"
How is that even an issue? "Yeah," I say to my instructor. "I mean, I can do anything in a simulation." Leave it to me to have to remind a Dauntless that simulations can be manipulated.
Amar doesn't lighten up. "Strange," he responds. "Most people, when they take this test, they don't know it's a simulation. The program's designed that way, so they can't cheat the system."
I feel my pulse in my throat. Shit. I didn't know that this particular simulation would be like the one in the aptitude test. I thought everyone would be aware that the images and sensations in it are fake, that it can be altered with just your mind. Okay, so I spoke too soon. Amar isn't incompetent, I am. I didn't realize I'd broken a rule, and now I'm gonna pay for it.
Is there actually something dangerous about being aware during a simulation?
"Well," I say slowly and carefully, "it was like this during my aptitude test. I figured it was a fluke, but I didn't think much of it."
"The aptitude test is set up the same way," Amar reminds me. "You're not supposed to know it's not real."
I know that, jeez!
"I couldn't help it," I say to Amar, a little impatiently.
"I'm not blaming you. Once," and Amar lowers his voice to a whisper, "I was like you. I took this same test, and I was aware the whole time."
My eyes go wide and my mouth falls open. If I could, I would smile. At least Amar isn't gonna rat me out.
But another part of me wants to ask him, Why the hell are you sharing this with me? If it's as dangerous as he suggests, he ought to keep his secrets to himself. That's the thing though, the Dauntless don't care about secrets the way the Abnegation do, with their closed-mouth, tight-lipped smiles.
Amar goes on. "It's not something you should brag about," he confirms to me. "Like everyone else, the Dauntless are all about conformity. So you should keep it under wraps."
"Fine," I say quickly. "I'll keep it a secret."
"Right." He doesn't sound convinced. "Next time, try not to do something impossible. Face your fear in a realistic way, so they won't think you're cheating."
I tell him okay. He seems pretty reassured, and he claps me on the shoulder good-naturedly before sending me on my way. At least now he knows I can get back to the dorms by myself.
But as I start toward the dormitory, something happens that unnerves me. My ears pick up a sound coming from the other end of the hallway I just walked down. Something like quiet, shuffling footsteps, moving hurriedly in the opposite direction.
I shudder. Right after doing that, I want to cuss myself out.
It was just my overactive imagination, nothing more. Why am I being such a coward?
Eric didn't mean to eavesdrop. He just wanted to know what was going on with Tobias. When Tobias and Amar disappeared for a time, the other initiates began to get skittish. Eric's nerves got overworked and he eventually volunteered to follow Amar and Tobias, wherever it was they went.
Now Eric retreats, his steps small and light so his presence will go unnoticed. The hallways here aren't very well lit, so Amar seeing him won't be a problem. Tobias, however, is more vigilant than most. What are the odds Tobias saw Eric's outline in the darkness, or heard the echo of his shoes against the floor?
It better not have happened. Eric's not looking to get into a misunderstanding.
He walks back to his place against the wall, in the middle of the line of transfers. When Amar comes out to call his name, it's like he never budged from there.
"Eric," I call out. "Hey, Eric!"
He doesn't show. I drift further away from the simulation room, searching through the pierced and tattooed faces on either side of me. Which one of them is not a Dauntless-born? Probably hard to tell, because even Jason and Sean have ink on their faces now.
Discouraged, I return to the transfer dorm. Where could Eric have gone? Every other transfer's been accounted for. Sure, the process may have been different for each of us, but Jason, Sean, Mia, Amy, and I all got through our fear simulations.
I'm pushing back the memories of my own, that claustrophobic train and the Marcus-like apparition, when my ears perk up at a noise.
It's a barely audible thud, like the sound your elbow makes when you bump it against a wall. And it's coming from the bathroom. I hurry inside, relieved but fearful.
When I throw the shower curtain aside, my best friend's there. "Eric," I gasp.
"Get off!" Blindly he claws at the air with his fingers, before his eyes focus on me. Bright red fingernail marks stand out on his arms. Whatever he saw in the simulation, it may have taken his mind hostage.
But he can tough it out. Moments go by and he's able to breathe a little easier. He looks at me apologetically. "Oh, shit," he wheezes. "I'm sorry."
I pull him to his feet, the sweat from his hand greasing my palm. "Was it the simulation?"
Eric's eyes are downcast. "It's not that, it's…" He stops mid-sentence and sighs. "'Kay, I admit it. It was the stuff of nightmares. Hundreds, no, thousands of spiders. Crawling on my face, in my hair, going under my shirt…"
I feel my nose wrinkle, almost on reflex. "Ew."
"Don't tell nobody, alright?" And Eric's fingers squeeze my shoulders, more than hard enough to bruise. That's how he lets me know there's a lot at stake.
"Not even Mia?" I venture.
Eric shuts that down. "Especially her," he says.
I don't fight him. Fortunately, his agitation fades quickly. He stoically sits there while I pour water over the angry wounds on his arms. It's almost time to go to dinner when I'm finished.
We rejoin the other transfers and Amar in the hall outside the dining area. Maybe I judged too hastily when I said the others did fine in their fear simulations. When Eric asks Mia, she says her appetite is gone, and I can tell Sean's bitten his fingernails raw.
"Relax," Amar tries to comfort us. "It's always difficult the first time around." He points at himself. "Ask me. My first time, I threw up on my instructor."
Eric, Mia, Sean, and Amy respond with identical blank stares. Jason's eyes are bugging out, too.
If there's advice that's less helpful than that, I couldn't guess what it is.
Shauna runs up to me in the cafeteria at dinner and socks me hard in the arm. Her smile is so big it actually looks scary. There's a swollen fold of skin beneath her right eye, sure to become a black eye later.
"Ow!" I cry. "Shauna, what…"
"I won!" Shauna bursts out. "I did what you taught me. Got her right in the jaw within sixty seconds. Threw her off her game. She still hit me in the eye once, but after that I dominated. It was amazing."
I grin. This may be the proudest I've ever felt in my life. Not of myself for teaching Shauna, but of Shauna because she did what she thought was impossible. It's just so pleasing to reach the top and then be able to see your friends do the same.
Slowly, my excitement takes shape in my throat. It comes out as a frenzied, "Oh my God, you did it!"
"I wouldn't have, if not for you," says Shauna. Her smile changes, so she looks sweeter, less like a maniac. She stands on her tiptoes in front of me, her lips briefly touching my cheek. "Thank you."
Oh, shit. I might never wash my face again.
I stare dumbly at her as she pulls away. She just laughs and tugs me toward the table where Zeke and her other friends sit. I'm a little reluctant, actually. My biggest problem isn't that I'm from Abnegation, it's that I don't know what these gestures of affection mean to the Dauntless. If Shauna were from Abnegation, I'd ask to go to her house and have dinner with her family. I'd find out what volunteering project she's passionate about and then I'd figure out how to get involved. In Dauntless, I don't know how to start this process, or even if Shauna knows I want to.
I decide not to let it bring my confidence down. I go join Shauna and Zeke at their table.
The Dauntless-born initiates are all so much louder than I am. "Let's eat, y'all," someone shouts, and everyone does. Shauna's friends congratulate her on her win, and they all point at the girl whose ass she kicked, sitting at one of the other tables, the lower half of her face blown up to twice its normal size.
"Oh, yeah," the girl on Zeke's left taunts. "Look at her. Can't even look Shaun in the eye."
"She better, after runnin' her mouth like that!" After the kid makes this comment, all the initiates at the table are tripping over themselves laughing. It takes seconds for me to join in. I have to, I have to because these people deserve to have their energy matched. They deserve to be treated with respect.
At the end of the meal, when I'm poking at a piece of chocolate cake with my fork, Shauna comes up to me and hugs me tight. She thanks me again for helping her win against that girl. I can't tell her "you're welcome" because all of a sudden, my throat's closing up and my voice is failing me.
I can make it official. I've gone crazy for Shauna.
We should be in our beds at this late hour, but if there are any guards on patrol, they must not care. It's nice to be able to sit above a deserted Pit. The wet plop we hear when our shoes make contact with the stone is magnified due to the absence of a crowd. So is the echoing clang that rings out every time we forcefully lean back against the metal railing.
Even the river seems to be settling down for the night. It might just be a matter of perspective, but the lapping of the water against the rocks seems almost gentle, like a loving touch. Infinitely less aggressive than before.
It's this strange peace that makes it easier for me to confess everything to Eric. "That's how I know," I'm saying to him, while he watches me intently. "I've fallen head over heels, man." I point out Shauna in the picture that we took, that I'm holding in my hands right now. She's at the very front of the large group of grinning Dauntless-born initiates. I stick out, and not in a good way, with my smile looking too forced.
Eric's mouth turns up as he inspects the image of my crush. "Damn, and she looks good, too," he says, impressed. "You really wanna have it all." With a hard elbow to my side, he throws this in, "Seems my Abnegation brother isn't Abnegation anymore."
"Haven't been for a long time. Didn't you ask around?" I'm still not used to tooting my own horn, but right now I'm loving how proud I sound of myself. "They know me as 'the kid with perfect aim who teaches martial arts'."
And now I'm smiling naturally. I'm riding a tidal wave of euphoric memories, especially the one of Shauna kissing me on the cheek. And the one of her introducing me to all the Dauntless at her table. And the one of us trying a sip of the strongest Dauntless liquor together.
Yet all of this has taken Eric differently. The next glance I sneak in his direction, I see that his mouth's returned to its usual frowning position, and he looks half thoughtful, half like he's stewing on something.
Am I right when I say that that's not a positive emotion I see in his eyes? Is he… jealous?
But he's still with Mia, and they're getting along nicely, so he couldn't be. I easily dismiss the notion and carry on with the conversation. Young love, I think, wryly. Everyone runs into it at some point, but even a Dauntless can't stop it from melting his brain.
AN: Hot damn, that was intense. So some people might've guessed this already but the scenario in Tobias' fear simulation was NOT my creation. I got the idea from the horror short film Man on a Train written and directed by Jack Shanks starring Tameka Mortimer and Atilla Akinci.
Now I've seen plenty of short horror films on YouTube, probably more than I can count. But absolutely NONE of them scared me like Man on a Train. That one filled me with a real fear to the point where I felt the urge to scroll down, so I wouldn't have to watch. I decided here to try and transfer that fear into writing, so Tobias could share in my terror! Woo-hoo! Lol.