Annalise sat stock still in the interrogation chair, her lip ravaged from nervous habit. Two officers calmly waited across the table for her to answer their questions. ‘The last 48 hours had been a living hell’, she thought, ‘this is nothing more than the cherry on top’.

“You can’t just sit there forever, you know.” The female officer on the left, Cassey, said.

“No disrespect, ma’am, but she could sit there for months without issue, so…” The younger male officer, Jordan, said, trying hard to hide a smile. Annalise laughed through her nose for a moment. She could, albeit uncomfortably, sit in this chair for the next half year before her hunger got the better of her.

“Thank you, Jordan, I’ll remember how helpful you‘e been when it comes time for peer reviews.” She placed her hands on the table and pushed herself up before heading to the door. “In that case, I’ll be back in six months to ask you again. Come on, rookie. Unless you plan on keeping her company.” Jordan got up to follow her, hitting his knee against the table and knocking over his chair.

He held his knee for a second while he looked at Annalise. “Please, can you just cooperate a little bit? They’re only a suspect, we aren’t looking to arrest them yet.” His eyes twinkled, full of naivety.

“You know we can’t promise that. But, your partner is much better off in our hands than they will be if the Artiglio’s find them first.” Cassey said, turning back to face the others.

“I don’t… we aren’t a part of this, we never wanted to—“ Annalise raised her head as she spoke. Cassey interrupted he, walking back to the table.

“You are now. We know you aren’t personally affiliated with the Crocs, but you’re in this mess now. I’m sure you think we’re useless in their feuds, but we can still protect you and yours. Help us out, and we’ll help you.” Cassey said, placing a hand on the table.

“Okay, but you have to help them, even if they resist you can’t hurt them!” Anna pleaded.

“You have our word. Jordan, grab me the bag.” The junior officer picked his chair up before reaching into the duffel bag beside him. He took out a blood bag, Annalise recoiled at the sight.

“You were able to collect that much…?” Her voice had begun to shake.

“We have good reason to believe they’re still alive and well, try to stay calm. I promise we’ll bring them back safe.” Jordan reassured her. He placed the bag on the table in front of Anna. “Do you need a straw, or…? I don’t really know how you do these things.”

“No, of course she doesn’t need a straw.” Cassey leered at him for a moment.

“Actually… that would be helpful, if it isn’ttoo much.” She looked straight down at her lap, her face slightly red. Jordan reached back into the bag and pulled out a plastic straw.

“You brought a straw, and stored it in the evidence bag?” Cassey brought her palm to her face while shaking her head.

“I thought—“ Cassey raised a finger to silence him.

“Just… get to tasting it, please.” Cassey was exhausted, having spent the better part of two years on this investigation. Annalise carefully placed the bag upright and unzupped it slightly. She cautiously inserted the straw and held the bag in both of her hands.

“What’s wrong?” Jordan asked.

“I… I really hate blood, especially when it’s not fresh. Just give me a second please.” She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. After a brief moment, she brought the straw to her lips and took a long, slow drink. She shivered, struggling to hold back a gag.

“Anything?” Cassey asked, glancing at her watch.

“Let’s give her a minute, maybe it takes a bit for the memories to come through?” Jordan patted Cassey on the shoulder.

“I don’t feel anything… I’m sorry, I’m still really new to this. They would know how to do this…” She squeezed the bag in her hands as tears started to fall.

“Hm. It was worth a shot, we’ll take you back home and—“

Jordan slammed a hand on the table. “We can’t just leave her to die because she wasn’t able to help us!” He dropped his kind demeanour, scowling at his partner.

“Watch it, rookie. We have enough on our plate as is.” Casey said, staring Jordan in the eyes.

“Hmph, Anna? Do you think it would help if you could focus more on the memories?” Jordan asked, turning away from Cassey.

“Maybe…”

He reached into the bag and pulled out a blindfold. Cassey glared at him. “Of course, just go ahead and use the evidence bag for everything. Why not take it as a carry-on while you’re at it.”

“I came prepared, didn’t I?” Jordan placed the blindfold on the table. “This might help, there’s already no sound in the room, maybe taking away your sight will help.”

Anna picked up the blindfold and tied it around her head. “I hope so…” She took another moment to prepare before drinking again. She took a deep sigh and placed the straw in her mouth. Several long seconds passed as she drank more and more of the blood. After a minute of silence, she dropped the bag, spilling what remained of its contents. She held her head in her hands and groaned. Jordan and Cassey could hear the grinding of her teeth through her pained sounds.

“Are you alr—“

“Shut up!” Anna yelled, interrupting Cassey. “I… I can see it…” Jordan had a slight smile on his face. “I know where they went, I know who took them…”

How exciting! I’d never been selected to participate in a taste test before, but for a mega corporation? It’s like winning the lottery! In 2053 jobs can be tricky to come by, though the government insists we are not in the midst of a recession. Being selected to taste test products made by Soda Mega Corp LLC (formally known as Coke+) means at least a year of employment with good pay and full benefits. The beverage market is more cutthroat than ever in previous decades; slight percentage points of market share equates to billions of dollars in profits…. or loss.

“It tastes a little like chicken,” John said as he took another bite. “But it needs more barbecue sauce.”

Steve sat shaking his head in disagreement. He slowed his chewing to better focus on the flavor.

“No. I’m not sure what it is, but it’s not chicken,” he replied.

When I suggested blindfolding my friends so they could sample a couple of finger food delicacies, they surprised me. It didn’t take much convincing. I wondered how easy it would be to talk them into doing other, more daring things, like bungee jumping. Maybe they would agree to a combination of the two; bungee jumping while blindfolded.

The first plate of food had fooled them, much as it did the first time I tried deep fried cauliflower. While cooking, I thought to have spiced the batter too much but they enjoyed the creole seasoning that was mixed in. John thought it would have tasted better with a dipping sauce while Steve popped them down one after another.

When neither cared for the second dish, I remembered that part of the joy of eating squash blossoms was in the visual appearance. Roasted in the oven and stuffed with goat cheese, the orange and yellow flowers offered a delicate contrast to the light green stems. Some people find the thought of eating flowers difficult, which is why it was added to the menu.

After filling my friends with vegetable appetizers, the last dish was the one I was most curious about. It was a grilled protein I knew they wouldn’t have agreed eating unless they were blindfolded. While they continued to guess wrong and debate what they were served, each kept reaching out for another until the plate was near empty. With only two pieces left, I moved the food out of reach, as this was another serving that required a visual presentation. Defeated, they removed their blindfolds.

Amidst remnants of smeared barbecue sauce and discarded bones, two grilled index fingers remained uneaten.

Overcome with nausea, Steve sprinted from the room. John sat motionless, calmly trying to come to terms with the reality that his brain had already accepted.

“Is that what I think it is?” he asked, pointing to the plate.

Before nibbling on one of the leftovers, I said, “You already ate the middle fingers, so it’s kinda like I flipped you off.”

“It really wasn’t that bad. Except, there wasn’t enough meat on the bones. Maybe next time you can cook a thumb? Or a big toe?”

“Beggars can’t be choosers. These aren’t the easiest things to procure.”

“Do I even wanna know where you got them?”

Before responding, I looked over my shoulder towards the doorway that Steve exited through.

“From the last person that didn’t like what I cooked for them.”

The room went quiet, everyone looked through there eye holes the pressure was dense. Mike was blindfolded and was ready to take a taste test, the first item was non edible it was brown and damp, mike was incredibly nervous, “hold on” said an on looker, “keep still” said another, the judges weren’t so eager to find out what it tasted like. The sleepover had turned menacing, but it was exciting said Nancy. Mike had the tip of his toungue on an old brown shoe “yuck” he yelped. “What is it” someone asked?, Mike couldn’t tell it tasted like dry furniture. “Is it a boot” he finally said. “You’re really close” said the judge. “Is it a shoe?” Mike said annoyed, “yes” said the judge. The giggles began soft and got louder as Mike tasted various different things.

The streets along the carnival had colorful stands of blue, red, and yellow scattered along the banners. “Get your cotton candy here for just a dollar!" said the man in one in a small stand, holding medium sized plastic container that held green apple flavored cotton candy. There was also a large stand holding or the banner with the big picture of a rubber duck that was part of the game; "hit a duck for a teddy bear!" The stands weren't extremely exciting though, as they were like any carnival. They were too predictable to bring any excitement the fair. That would explain why the carnival has a gloomy feeling about it, and why it’s so empty around here. To be honest, this was a complete waste of time. “Can we go home?” I started to complain to my brother, Connor, who wanted to go the carnival in the first place. “No,” he stubbornly said. “You said that you would take me to the carnival, so we’re not leaving until we at least get on five rides and go to five game booths.” “Five rides?” I asked, groaning in agony. “And five games,”Connor nodded. “If I have to wait for you to play five games in the arcade, then I should be al lowed to ride five rides in the carnival,” “But that equals ten things to do!” I said. “So? More stuff for me,” “Fine. Where do you want to go first?” “To the huge roller coaster right there!” Connor said, his expression as if he was a spring, ready to bounce up straight to the air. I sighed and nodded in defeat, knowing there was no way out of the boredom. The moment I realized that there was nothing I could do, the carnival seemed to bring an aura that kills the mood. As the both of us continued to walk down the carnival isle, the stands and booths remained mostly spacious, finding one or two people once in a while, but on everyone’s faces, there was a heaviness on them, as if they couldn’t keep their eyes open for a minute longer. They’re like me; knowing that they should leave, but there was just something holding them back. I looked down at the little four-year-old next to me, to see if he had run ahead, because if I lost him and Ma finds out, there would be problems. His expression too; heavy and tired. Does he even want to be here? I see the booth becoming closer though, I realized the banner said “Test your tastebuds for a prize!” The large, sky blue banner with the light brown wood. There was a man, who was smiling happily and excitedly. “Hello there, would you mind to spend a little bit of time to play a game?” “Yes! Yes!” Connor shouted ‘enthusiastically’. “Good, good, so to play is that you’ll be blindfolded and will try a combination of two foods and try to identify the two foods,” the man continued. Connor asked nervously. “What if the food is dangerous?” “Connor, it’s a game; it’s fine,” I said. “How ‘bout I go first, to show you it’s safe?” Connor nodded. “Alright, just sit in the chair and we’ll begin!” The man said. I nodded and sat on the wooden chair that looked like it could give me splinters. The man handed me a blindfold. “Make sure you can’t see anything through that thing,” I nodded and placed the blindfold, checking if I can see right through the black blindfold. “I can’t see anything,” “Good,” the man said, unexpectedly taking my wrist and laid my left palm flat. He placed a hard clump on my hand. “Here’s is a combination of two foods, good luck,” I tossed the small clump, the size of a grape into my mouth, trying to identify the foods that had been used. To be honest, I couldn’t tell, but it left a burning sensation on my tongue. “I don’t know,” was all I could say, but the man just chuckled. For some reason, I heard Connor gasp, but I don’t understand why, so I shrugged it off. I continued to chew, but the treat started feeling weird, as if there was something else to the cluster of food, but I heard Connor yell, “Lisa, y-y-you turned into a monster!”

I went to work mad today not because of forgetting breakfast, not for almost leaving my phone but it was because I had a fight with my fiancé due to her wanting me out the door quick. I thought about all the potential reasons why she would want me out but most of them didn’t make sense either way I put the thoughts aside until later as I came home I was greeted by my fiancé outside to apologize for the way she acted, we hugged it out then told me to come inside.

The room was dark but immediately after a whole lot of people yelled Surprise!!!

It was a birthday party and as I later learned a unique one my fiancé asked if it was OK if I be blindfolded. I asked “why” and she said “it would ruined the surprise silly” she said with her face still full of Smiles so I take up your offer and ask what do I need to do? “Just sit here” her leading me to a table “and let us serve you” “Okay” Just about everyone brought out a dish for me to eat the rules included not to takeoff the blindfold, and only guess what the food is to me it seems easy enough so while blindfolded I waited the first dish

First dish- I started feeling it around my fork it felt sort of crunchy so I smelled it as well and this was most definitely catfish one of my favorites but as I remember my fiancé doesn’t cook fish often because she hates fish herself and would rather spend time finding an alternative then eat fish. So I asked who cooked this it was my best friend Tony who cooked it he said “it’s catfish it was an easy sort of thing to bring so feel free to eat it all.” I obliged to to that request and the taste was exactly as I mentioned it Nice soft and crunchy after eating a little bit I ask what’s next so in comes dish number two.

Second dish-I felt a lot more firmer than the last one I Immediately thought chicken so I immediately bit into it it was a firmer taste as well season too. I said “is this steak” “Cube steaks” actually my fiancé exclaimed oh yes this was her specialty after all, that and barbecue I was ready for the third dish as this started to become fun to me.

Third dish-once again I felt around the fork and unlike the other ones they weren’t crunchy Nor firm so I sliced a bit of it off and ate it inside my mouth felt very jell-O like if it didn’t have so much egg in it I had said deviled eggs I guessed A coworker who made this dish said close but just regular eggs I didn’t have time to make deviled eggs before getting here.

For about 30 minutes I start kept on eating whatever they fed me and they try and surprise me from pizza to tuna to spaghetti to Some experiment with mashed potatoes. It was a blast to say the least after the party where it was just me and fiancé.

“Thank you for this” I gave her a big hug during this she whispered in my ear “it doesn’t have to be over just yet.” she gave me a long kiss and motioned me upstairs. “Oh also keep the blindfold it’ll be fun this way.”

Looking forward for what was in store I had her lead the way.♥️

The fabric over my eyes is heavy and damp, like sweaty palms pressed into the delicate folds of my eyelids.

I’ve tried, many times now, to squint and see through the minuscule stitches in the fabric, but its no use. The fabric is tightly woven and impenetrable to light.

I feel the prongs of a fork brushing my lips, the salty brine of something ocean fresh catching in my nose.

“I don’t like seafood”, I murmur, the familiar stench already making my stomach flip flop.

Someone scoffs above me before replying.

“Yer will eat what the doctor gives you. No bein fussy”

His accent is thick and accented, a guttural Irish dialect that spits the words rather than speaks them.

Judging by his crass manner and the less than delicate way the fork is pushing against my lips, I’ll take it he isn’t the doctor in question.

“I don’t care wha-“

But the fork slips through my lips and into my mouth, the slimy slickness pushing past my teeth and into the cavity itself.

I want to spit it out, want to gag and rinse my mouth out with something strong, but the man has slammed his calloused hand against my mouth preventing me from doing anything other than swallowing.

For the millionth time today I regret the choices that led me here. No matter how desperately I wanted my crooked teeth capped with straight white veneers, I finally saw why people warned you against discount doctors found in market places on tropical islands. This was most definitely not what I imagined when I sat in the dental chair. When the plush leather chair had touched my back I had been too excited about the prospect of a discounted dental procedure to even account for the lack of medical equipment. Perhaps the blindfolds should have tipped me off that something was odd about this place.

Once he is satisfied that I have swallowed the vile specimen placed in my mouth, the hand releases me and I flex my jaw wishing my hands weren’t strapped to the chair so that I could massage the tender muscle.

Oh, that was the other thing. For some seemingly odd reason even after they strapped my wrists to the armrests, I stayed long enough for the blindfold to follow.

“Time to guess what that was”, the man says, a giddy chuckle colouring his words.

I frown and smack my lips together, trying to conjure the memory of the taste.

“Hmmm, I would say it’s either oyster or some other clam, but I’m not-“

For the second time today the man cuts me off with a scoff.

“Urg, not yer. You just shut up now. It’s time for the doc to guess”

At this rude response I bristle, wanting to cuss the man out. But I repeat his response again in my head, trying to analyze its meaning.

“The doctor? Then why did you feed it to me?”

I feel the man’s weight shift, as though he is leaning back in his chair or walking away from me .

“I don’t have to explain anything to yer”, he says hotly. I hear him rustling with something nearby, but I am too heated by his response to think too carefully about what it may be.

“Fine”, I bark, “don’t tell me”.

It is quiet for a bit, only the sounds of beeping machines and his fidgeting filling the space.

Finally, he sighs, and I get the impression that I have beat him at whatever game of silence we were playing.

“The doctor is a mind reader”, he says reluctantly, as though I have forced the answer out of him.

I can't help but let out a laugh at his words.

A mind reader? Come on now, that is just silly.

“So you held me hostage here to feed me things and see if he can guess what I’m eating? All to prove he’s a mind reader?”, I ask, the laugher still inflecting my words.

The man sighs irritably and I can hear him take two large strides towards me again.

“Yes. He is in the room beside this one”

“And how many people has this mind reading ability worked on?”

I feel him hesitate, clearing his throat awkwardly.

“Well.... I am the only other mind we can prove he’s read, hence why we need more subjects”

I perk up at this statement, torn between disbelieve and awe at the stupidity of the entire situation.

“Wait a minute, so he’s never read any other minds before?” I ask incredulously.

“No. we haven’t had any volunteers until now”

I roll my eyes, but I know he can’t see me.

“I didn’t exactly volunteer”

The strain in his voice as he replies gives me the impression that he too is rolling his eyes as he speaks.

“Most people have the right minds to make a fuss when we strap them to the chair. This is actually the furthest we’ve ever come with the trials”, he pauses for half a beat then adds, “welcome, test subject number one”.

It was a strange science study. Just a simple taste test. They paid for it though and I knew I would get most of them right. I could not have been more wrong. It started easy just every day ingredients. But as I expected it slowly got harder and harder. I knew that it wouldn’t stay easy the entire time but there seemed to be a stark turning point. When they wheeled out the final samples something was different it sounded like there was something leaking from it. Maybe there’s a drink involved? As soon as I tasted the first of the new sample I realized what the dripping was. It seemed to be raw venison. I was fine with eating strange foods but I’m not willing to get sick for some scientific study. “Ok I’m done” I exclaimed to the researchers while spitting out the food. But when I tried to move my arms to take off the blind fold I couldn’t. My arms are tied down. They trapped me here. “What the fuck is this? Let me go!” This was just the start of my nightmare. The researcher took off my blind fold and I saw what was on the table. It was Jack my boyfriend. He went missing two months ago. “What is this!” I shouted at the man in front of me. “Let me go!” “We will but you mustn’t be rude we insist on you finishing the meal” they responded as if this was some sort of sick joke. Then my head was pulled back by a gag and a voice came from behind me “this is the best part”. I saw the man walk towards jack knife in hand. Then he turned back to me with a sadistic smile. “Are you interested in a fillet?”

I dragged Sandra over to the dusty chair, gently pressing her shoulders down, encouraging her to sit. She did, looking around. It was useless; the blindfold still existed. Grabbing the tray of taste tests, I picked one at random, labeled 13. I looked inside, and grabbed a utensil appropriate for use with the substance. Scooping it out of the cup, I tapped Sandra’s shoulder. She opened her mouth to ask me what, and, as quick as I could, I darted in with the spoon. Sputtering, Sandra tore off the blindfold, without much success. I laughed at the faces she made as she tasted the food. It was olives, and she hated those with a passion. But she didn’t have to know that I willingly fed her olives. She could know that it was something that tasted bad. That was all she needed to know. She glared at me, silently exciting the room to wash her mouth out. I followed her like a happy puppy, jumping around and laughing. For some reason I don’t think she was too happy with me, but what could she do about it? She was the one that decided we were best friends, not me. She should’ve expected this.

If you told me a year ago I would join a cult, I would have probably laughed in your face. But here I am, standing in front of the leaders ready to take my initiation test.

About 20 people, mostly teens, line up in front of two men wearing silky red robes and a golden crescent. The room is in an abandoned building, but is still quite nicely with chairs, book shelf’s, and a chandelier. I never expected to be here in my life. I imagined heading off to college, getting a boyfriend, and having the best time of my life. But depression and a sense of longing for something to be apart of can drive people to do some unimaginable things.

“Now, before you can be a part of our cause, you all have to prove that you are willing to put our movement over yourself’s” says one of the men in robes with dark hair speaking with great passion, loudly, and confidently.

It surprises me how they never use the word cult. Maybe they’re not a cult after all?

“You will be blindfolded and given a food to eat. Half of them are savory treats, half of them are poisoned. If your not willing to risk anything you may go now” says the other man in the robe with light hair. When he speaks he does not carry himself as well as the first man.

Seven people walk out, and I almost do to, but the thought of the sad life I have out there motivates me to stay. The rest of the people left look scared but in the same time excited. Like they have never had such a rush of thrill in their lives.

The light haired man points at me as his eyes glue to mine.

“Why doesn’t the pretty girl in the green dress go first” he says while pointing at me and stepping forward.

I hesitantly go up, but I don’t notice a step and trip. My body jerks forward and my knees all the ground but I quickly get back up. The man sits me in a chair and ties a blindfold to my head. I open my mouth and a spoon goes in. As I munch on it, I can’t help but enjoy the taste. Is it a cookie? It is crunchy but sweet and warm. The smell is comforting. He takes my blindfold of and escorts me to the other side of the room where their are five rusty benches. The other people do the same until all twelve of us are in the same side of the room. Some were graceful and brave. Some were a nervous reck. One girl is biting her nails while a boy, who looks by far the youngest anxiously shifts from one foot to another.

“Well, we’re happy to say that none of the food were poisoned, you all proved your dedication, and your in” says the dark haired man. He smiles and stands up straight as he walks out of the room.

Small cheers come from the once scared group of us twelve and a sense of fear washes over me, quickly replaced by a calm feeling. I don’t know what I got myself into, but I’m not in it alone.