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| The Examination; The Apprentice Goes To Hell - R/Gen | |
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| Tweet Topic Started: Apr 16 2011, 04:38 AM (300 Views) | |
| Torrid | Apr 16 2011, 04:38 AM Post #1 |
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Hell is Here.
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How far would you go to win the ultimate job? These eight hopefuls have just 80 minutes to find out. I love a good fight to the death just as much as the next person. It's Megadeth Vs Metallica, except none of them know who they are. Just regular guys, all with different traits, all after one job. Alliances are quickly forged, the bad ratted from the good. All of the guys in this little fic will have nicknames, based on what they look, act or sound like, you'll see why. Fic is based on the movie 'Exam' Characters David Ellefson – Deaf / Number 1 Shawn Drover – Black / Number 2 Kirk Hammett – Curly / Number 3 Chris Broderick – Muscles / Number 4 Dave Mustaine – Red / Number 5 Lars Ulrich – Danish / Number 6 James Hetfield – Blond / Number 7 Rob Trujillo – Mex / Number 8 ------------------------------------------ PART ONE The thudding sound of pacing feet. Nervous tapping of toes. Putting cold water on your face. Taking an espresso shot or five to ‘calm yourself down’. Dressing to impress. New hair cut. Deep breathing. Meditation. Inspirational speeches, to yourself. Good tie clip. Medication. Praying. Breath mints. All are high-ranking items on the list of things to do or have with you, before you go to a job interview. You have to look good, smell good and act well to impress your potential boss and get the job you want. Knowledge is a plus. ------------------------------------------ Think back to your school days. That fateful day where the gym hall is no longer a place for fun or games. Where it’s usually brimming with sports equipment and rival teams. Instead, it’s full of desks and chairs. Papers and pens on desks. It’s the last exam you’ll ever take and you’re nervous as hell for it… yet anxious to finish it. This is what the room you have to keep in mind looks and feels like. Each black desk has a numbered piece of paper on it. Candidates One to Eight. The place is kind of dark, save for a few dim spotlights, one above and one next to each desk then, two at the front and back. Just enough for the candidates to see what they’re looking at. At the front of the room, there’s a blacked out screen and a red digital timer, set to 80:00. One by one, the eight candidates, in an orderly single file, enter the room –lead by a man with very long, straight, black, braided hair. The last, a suspicious looking brunette, eyes his surroundings nervously and follows the others in each taking their previously allotted seats. The man taking desk two, a stocky guy with shoulder length, straight, dark hair, looked positively shell shocked. His lip quivers slightly as he looks to his left, eyeing another man with dark blond hair and glasses, only to look at the clock and gulp. The studious looking man to Number 2’s left looked somewhat quietly confident. He took a deep breath and looked at the page in front of him curiously. Candidate One. Pressure. Nothing I can’t handle. Another man with crew cut, brown hair and cupid bow lips, chewed a toothpick, flicking the edge of his piece of paper, number 6, with his thumb. He caught sight of what looked to be a security camera and jolted his hand away. Who knows who’s watching this. Could be the boss himself. Number 1 jumped a little as he watched a guard, armed with a hand gun, enter the black room. The man directly behind him, number 3, a smaller man with shoulder length, curly hair and tanned skin, saw this and his eyes grew wide. After a minute or two’s awkward silence, footsteps could be heard down the hall. A tall, dark skinned and very well dressed man entered the room and stood before the candidates. His clothes matched the room around him. All black. Tie, shirt, shoes, everything. He clasped his hands behind his back and spoke clearly. “I am the invigilator. Listen carefully to every word I say.” He eyed the room, looking over the eight men in front of him, his face expressionless and professional. “There will be no repetition.” The man in seat 5, a tall, slim redhead, smirked a little where he sat, arms folded across his chest. He raised his eyebrows when the invigilator mentioned ‘no repetition.’ “I won’t apologise for the hardships you’ve endured reaching this room,” the invigilator continued as he walked down the center of the desks. Number 2 looked at him nervously. “the pressures and the pains were necessary.” Number 3 looked at him knowingly and pressed his lips into a thin line. “Resilience is a key attribute in these dark times and if you can’t survive in our selection process, you won’t survive in the job.” Number 5’s smirk and glare grew more defiant, whereas number 7, a smart looking blond, watched him intently. “Many highly qualified candidates tried to get this far and failed. You have succeeded.” He gave a slight smile to the eight men. “And now, the final stage lies before you. One last hurdle separates you from your goal… which is to join our esteemed ranks.” He turned around and walked back to the front of the room. “The test is simple in comparison, yet it will determine who leaves this room with a contract of employment and who leaves with enough cash to hail a cab home.” “Through these trials, you’ve gained some idea of the power of this organization,” Number 4, the suspicious brunette, chewed at his thumb as he looked away from the invigilator and down at his desk. “so believe me when I tell you that there is no law in this room but our law.” He paused. “And the only rules in here are our rules.” He took a final breath. “There is one question before you and one answer is required. If you try to communicate with myself or the guard,” he nodded towards him. “you will be disqualified and ejected from the room. If you spoil your paper, intentionally or accidentally, you will be disqualified. If you choose to leave the room for any reason, you will be disqualified.” He looked around, seeing a couple of the men nod back at him. “Any questions?” looking at the eight blank faces in front of him, he nodded. “Good luck gentlemen.” He walked up to the clock and tapped a red button on the top to set it. “We’re giving the eight of you 80 minutes.” Number 5 set his watch. “80 minutes to convince us that you have what it takes to join us. 80 minutes to determine the next 80 years of your lives.” He pressed down the blue button next to the red button, starting the clock. “Begin.” He left with a long stride and tapped in the code on the keypad, the door closing itself behind him. |
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| olyamet | Apr 16 2011, 06:10 PM Post #2 |
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Let's Dance
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*holds a big banner with 'METALLICA rules' on it* Go number 3, 6, 7, 8!!!
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