Alternative Reality Vol 1

by A Uscila

  The price was laughable though. Even including the wide variety of merchandise the company produced and distributed – the potential of the whole product was still far, far greater. Thus, one could of course wonder if perhaps the whole matter provided some other gain, in addition to the monetary one.

  Luke was just a cog though. A cog in the machine. An average guy who just didn’t really care for what went on around him - as long as he got what he needed. As long as his simple needs were satisfied. Food, shelter and Alternative Reality. Nothing else mattered. No social connections that were important enough to maintain. No responsibilities that were in need of constant care and sacrifice of time. Heck, if Luke would disappear tomorrow, no one would really care too much. Sure, his parents might put up a show. Maybe some old acquaintances who haven’t lost their lives to the newest fad yet. No one too close.

  To some - that might sound quite sad. An individual outside the bounds of society. A failure. A loner. Cursed to suffer the torment of solitude and those who’ve experienced know, that true solitude can be a nightmare by itself. Yet it wasn’t so for Luke. Lonely? Sure. Being lonely was a state of mind though, something that Luke had no problems living with. On the contrary even - these circumstances made him feel quite relaxed. At ease, in a sense. As if no strings of responsibility bound his movements. No one around to suffer the consequences of his heedless actions. The feeling was almost liberating. Add to it the almost bottomless well of self-pity and Luke could truly feel content. He had all that he wanted.

  There was no anxiety, no sense of haste or any stress. Luke did not feel like he had to rush, to achieve something in life before it was too late. To have a successful career, a family, kids, a fancy car. A wide range of quality social connections. None of that fit Luke’s view on life. None of it fit well in his inner world. He never felt any strong feelings or attachment to anyone to begin with. No values were held in high esteem within his dark inner mind.

  A dark mine that kept plenty of room for a strong sense of self-loathing that plagued his mind. Or more like the loathing of all that humanity stood for. What he stood for. All that desperate search for fullness, mutual understanding and never-ending inner and outside conflicts. How people were just worlds within worlds - forever cursed to be confined within their own minds, their narrow cages. A tiny barred window leading outside - through which you could only glimpse the ever-changing sky. Yet nothing else, never get in contact with it. Never leave. Every single human - locked within themselves, forces to view the world through themselves - unable to escape the feeling of being the center of the universe, yet frantically avoiding the concept of egoism. Self-centeredness. Selfishness. Desperate in their attempts to be one with others, to finally escape from the confines of their own self. To finally experience the outside. To experience the adjacent cell. To fully understand. To fully comprehend.

  Simply put - Luke was extremely morbid, grim and depressing. Maybe that was one of the major reasons he had no social connections. Maybe he unconsciously avoided them due to it. Maybe he realized that no one would remain connected for long with an individual such as him. Maybe he considered his own thoughts fragile enough to shatter on contact with another person - a person who thought differently and spared enough time to challenge Luke’s own mindset.

  Who knows? Only Luke. Yet it was what it was. That was precisely why he got into Alternative Reality. Luke needed something to do. Always. Something to occupy his time, his mind. To not let his morbid train of thought trail off somewhere dark. Which it was doing right now. Maybe customer service inspection wasn’t the best choice of an employment.

  Luckily life was having its’ way with Luke once again - and his tumbling thoughts were interrupted by an unexpected visit.

  Seems like the establishment had quite a commotion going on near its’ entrance - between a waitress and a gloomy customer. Not just any customer either – the annoying neighbor, who was pointing her finger at Luke.

  She was in her usual over-the-top attire. Though the magnitude seemed to be toned down when comparing to the previous ones. Torn dark jeans – tightly wrapping her long legs. A white t-shirt, unsurprisingly – heavily decorated with various morbid symbols. Mostly skulls and such. Long black fingerless gloves covered her arms – leaving but a fragment of naked skin between it and the short-sleeve t-shirt. Finally – she carried a black leather jacket, over-decorated with various straps and metal rings. Her hair was tied up into a knot, strands of hair sticking out here and there. Accompanied by a pale complexion, black eye-shadows and dark red lipstick.

  It was quite unusual for people to wear all-black these days. Since it was the color of a certain political movement of adolescent teenagers - which usually caused trouble wherever it gathered. No surprise she encountered some trouble while trying to enter this establishment.

  Yet, it seemed like Luke’s presence was noticed and the two approached his table sooner than he’d wish for.

  “Excuse me sir, but this young lady stated that the two of you are… “- A short pause, an uncertain glance at the culprit - “acquaintances, and that you could vouch for her” - A curt inclination of the head as if out of politeness. She stared at Luke with knowing eyes. Luke knew what the waitress wanted. She didn’t buy that story for one second, yet it couldn’t just be brushed off on gut feeling alone. A simple “no” would suffice. A simple denial of any ties would end the issue there and then. Yet, it seemed that Luke and the waitress weren’t the only ones aware of the situation.

  She did not display a single drop of anger, dissatisfaction or any threatening intent. Not a single wrinkle or frown. Head slightly lowered, her sight turned to the side. She stood there, holding herself. Unsure of her own choice. Shamed even. Lips trembling ever so slightly. How torn she must have felt - placing her trust in Luke of all people.

  Luke didn’t buy the act for a second. He could see right through her. Manipulation was her way of surviving in this cruel world and she was born with the tools for it. Not for one second did Luke feel special, responsible or chosen even. This was all coincidence. It could have been any lone person sitting behind a table. Heck, it might’ve been even easier if it was anybody but Luke. It was what it was though and she carried through with her initial plans.

  Luke didn’t like her at all. Maybe because she was simply a pretty woman. One of many that rejected his presence. His simple needs for love, understanding and human warmth. Luke was human after all.

  Or maybe it was because she tried to play him. To manipulate. To pull him by the strings. To endanger his one and only feature that Luke himself tried to desperately protect – the illusion of superiority. His empty pride. Yet the answer Luke gave served to mirror the contradictions within his own mind.

  Luke placed down the tea-cup that was locked in air for a while now. “Yes. I know her and can vouch for her” - A simple, yet clearly visible nod. A short, yet clear answer. The deed was done now and could no longer be undone. Dumbstruck, the waitress slowly nodded – unable to accept this outcome. Yet she still apologized and left – with her own conclusions locked away behind that professional mask. She left a menu on the table - one that she always carried around diligently. Quite an upstanding worker. Luke was forced to give this establishment quite a high mark. A pity.

  With a faint visible smile, barely kept hidden due to her presumed victory – she sat down behind the table.

  “Willow”- She simply said, extending her arm in a boyish manner of greeting.

  Luke looked at her for a few moments. Frankly put – he did not want to get involved. Though it was a little too late for that. His hesitation didn’t go unnoticed either – as Willow’s smile got just a little wider. Most likely she though Luke was being shy – with his look of a shut-in. She didn’t remove her hand though and eventually got a reply.

  “Luke” - He said, after pressing her delicate hand – “Tell me. Do you always go out dressed like that, while searching for a place to eat?”- He then asked while leaning on his
chair – getting ready for an inevitable chit-chat.

  Another pretty smile on a pretty face. Seems like she was bent on playing “miss perfect” today. On wearing her mask – for the rest to see and to believe. Not Luke though. Not for one second.

  “What can I say?”- She shrugged – “I like being myself no matter the circumstance”

  Willow kept on smiling with that glass smile of hers, hurting Luke’s eyes. He could never cope with people and the charades they play out. Those pointless formalities, gestures of politeness and etiquette. All of it made Luke feel tired. For he had not the strength to play along. To be frank, he liked Willow better when she was a torrent of emotion. A hurricane. He saw her outfits as desperate cries for attention. For care and understanding - and hoped that at least she didn’t put up that overly polite act so many women did. That she was honest to the bone – so many times had she proven it to Luke face-to-face. Yet here she was – another porcelain girl. Pretending to be something she wasn’t. Or was. Just that Luke could not or did not let himself believe it. He was quite naive and idealistic after all. So inexperienced in matters concerning the opposite sex.

  This time – Luke was the one to smile. And what a heart-wrenching smile it was – even Willow seemed to be caught a little off guard. “What a coincidence”- He then said – “So do I”

  He took out some money and placed it on the table – together with a yellow card “Be sure the waitress gets this. Oh and. You’re not getting your dagger back” – Luke then finished, walking away without even allowing a proper comeback. How immature.

  Willow seemed to be a little taken aback, her mask almost crumbling. Yet after observing Luke walk away without even turning back, she couldn’t help but glance at the man with an all-knowing glimmer in the eye. One that did not promise anything good for poor little Wail.

  Chapter 19

  Hidden in the thickness of the growth around her – Willow observed her target of interest with a sharp glare. A scrawny looking man with dark robes – ordering around a bunch of disfigured creatures – crawling around like the vermin that they were. She managed to count ten of them, but it was hard to be sure since most of them looked very similar. They kept on coming in and out of a nearby cave-entrance, at the very edge of the forest, every single one carrying bags of loot – which they emptied not too far from their point of exit.

  While these minion figures slaved about – Willow turned her gaze to another individual. Right next to the robed figure stood a tall, well armored male, with manners befitting his most likely low descent. He stood there with zero grace, leaning on one leg while continuously scratching himself – saying something to his companion while doing so. Did not seem like the two got along very well - as at one point the robed figure started throwing fireballs at the colleague. Though most of them were aimed beneath the feat - instead of the warrior figure himself.

  As Willow observed that circus act, someone approached her – not too hard to notice, as his incapability of stealth could be heard a mile back. Managing to rustle every growth, stepping on every branch he came across – a soldier entered Willow's view. Standard Onnion military gear – its’ main features being a full-helm with miniature slits for the eyes and a short-sword. He looked around while hunching ever so slightly – presumably trying to pinpoint the exact location of Willow. Who was crouching one meter away.

  Of course – one can’t blame the soldier too much. Willow was in her usual camouflaging gear, its’ distinctive piece being a hooded dark green cape that covered most of her. Even her longbow that she held in hand didn’t stand out – it’s dark coloring merging well with either the ground or the tree bark. Especially so due to the late time of day, with the sun slowly setting in the horizon, its’ rays no longer able to reach the dark reaches of the forest. To get through the thick canopy.

  Either way, after a minute or so of standing around – the soldier finally noticed Willow.

  “Oh! There you are! Did not see you there. Quite the camouflaging skill you have, good thing we brought you along”- He then said eccentrically, once again displaying his impaired orientational abilities, accompanied by a state of self-induced delusion – “My men are getting quite restless, when are we going in? We didn’t travel here all the way from our station just to swat at insects”

  Willow glanced at the robed figure – making sure he didn’t hear anything. Luckily enough – he was still busy chasing around his dear friend. She then glared at the soldier and opened her mouth. Only to close it soon after. A heavy sigh. People say that beautiful women have it easy. Well, for some reason Willow had it anything but easy.

  A couple of days back she managed to die while on an easy quest. One that was supposed to be over and done with quickly enough. Yet things turned for the worse - she lost a whole day of gaming time, her favorite dagger and almost failed the quest. Luckily enough though – the quest-giver bought her lie and believed that all of the bandits died off. Bad news? He gave a follow-up quest to investigate what happened and bring him the magician whose participation in the whole activity was not anticipated. Seems like the Church of Pedro was looking for the guy. Willow sighed again. This whole situation smelt like trouble. She did not expect a good ending. After this was done, she was planning on dropping the whole quest-line. Earning a warm spot in the military was just not worth it. Especially if she’d need to work with guys like Barry over here.

  Willow gave the soldier another look. No matter from which side you'd look – the fellow reminded her of his predecessor. Might be the identical get up, the baseless confidence, a complete lack of tact or her previous experience with their bunch. Either way, she just couldn’t help, but dislike this fellow.

  “Soon enough. Go get your boys. We’ll get them once the sun sets” – Another sigh. For a moment she felt like in one of those western movies she watched every now and again. Showdown at sundown. Might as well end it in a cliché way.

  Once that was done, she turned to stare at her target again. A scrawny, seemingly always grumpy mage – for some reason things were actually going his way. Living proof that looks did not dictate your success in life. Willow glared at him – bloodshot eyes, sunken cheeks a balding head and un-kept hair. It was quite unsettling how unpleasant he was to look upon. Yet here he was. Alive and well after their last encounter. Better than well. Numerous minions. A dependent, yet uncivilized looking companion. A ton of loot. How does he do it? What was his trick? If not for the current circumstances, Willow would gladly approach him, ask and eventually lure all of his success right from under his nose. Surely, such a poor looking fellow would be susceptible to a woman’s charm.

  Regrettably – circumstances did not permit Willow to try out her gifts. She slowly got up and notched an arrow in her bow. Companions were already here – five armed soldiers, all with the same standard gear, anxious like little children.

  Before the five charged off on their own – screaming like madmen for whatever reason, Willow decided to initiate the fight this time.

  Slowly, carefully aiming - she pulled the arrow string and soon after – released. A stream of light followed the arrow, which struck the magicians shoulder like a laser guided missile - knocking the fella off his feet. A loud enough shout filled with pain and swear words followed soon after, accompanied by the sounds of loudly screaming Onnion soldiers, who charged off like headless chickens. Seems like she managed to attack before her companions.

  They charged out of the growth soon enough – like a pack of hyenas who just smelt blood. As the five of them targeted the magician with weapons readied – they met strong resistance.

  Once Willow’s primary target received damage, not only did his companion draw a sword – the working slaves suddenly charged out as well. Quickly did they drop all they were doing – scurrying towards the attacking force in an awkward manner. Three of them were not too far from the loot pile, while seven more emerged from the cave exit soon enough. Composed, with no haste in sight - Willow loosed arrows o
ne by one – in an attempt to hamper their movements. Yet to her surprise, none of her tricks worked. Usually, when you shoot a person in the knee – he will drop to the floor and will at least stay there for a while. Did not work as planned on these guys though. Some of them didn’t even slow down after being shot - might be since pinpointing a knee on those things was just a headscratcher. Now that they were close enough to take a good long look at – she noticed that the creatures were nothing more than moving bags of meat. Remains of goblins or similar looking creatures – their bodies oozing and dripping with various fluids. Limbs twisted and deformed. It was quite a surprise they managed to move at all.

  This disheartened the female archer quite a bit. Not only were they hard to take care off – she noticed that the mage wasn’t knocked out either – as the open field before her brightened up. One of her companions was just set on fire. Willow clicked her tongue in annoyance. She could no longer count the number of times she asked those buffoons to take off their cloaks. Now they had to learn the hard way. Most likely – their last lesson ever. Harsh life.

  Since the magician seemed to do the most damage – Willow started releasing arrows at him again. Until she noticed his companion – slicing an Onnion soldier in half with one swing of the sword. Not only that, but the fire-wielding fellow did not seem to react to being struck by arrows as much anymore. Like the damage done wasn’t a significant loss.