by Phoenix Grey
He turned his attention to the kitchen as they entered it, his mind going back to the day's misery. Maybe if he did a good deed, he'd feel better. He was willing to try anything. Besides, Mrs. Fields was likely to cook for him as a reward for helping her, and Will could definitely use the comfort of a home-cooked meal right now.
As if reading Will's mind, Mrs. Fields said, "I was just getting ready to take a meatloaf out of the oven. Maybe you'd like to stay for dinner afterward?"
For as much as Will wanted to go home and plug himself into Masterwind, the idea of familiar human company outranked his desire to delve into a fantasy world. So did the rumbling in his stomach. All he'd had today so far was a quick cup of coffee this morning and a bag of chips from the vending machine at work. He absolutely refused to spend money on the outrageously priced cafeteria food, and he'd woken up too late to pack himself a lunch.
"Dinner would be great, ma'am." He looked up at the burnt out bulb that sat in the middle of an S fixture of other bulbs hanging over the kitchen.
She definitely could have waited for the maintenance guys to come fix this. Oh well. I'm already here. Might as well get it done and collect my reward.
"Meow." Mrs. Fields' cat, Mittens, circled Will's feet. He reached down to rub behind the cat's ears only to get a surprise bite.
"Ow." He withdrew his hand, checking his finger for puncture wounds.
"Mittens! What's wrong with you?" Mrs. Fields chastised the cat before turning her attention to Will with an apologetic look. "I'm so sorry. He's getting cranky in his old age."
Will refrained from punting the cat across the room like a football, though he reallywanted to. One good kick would probably kill the poor creature. In cat years, he was likely older than Mrs. Fields, who was in her 70s. His grey fur was patchy, and there was a crook in his tail where Mrs. Fields had accidentally broken it many years ago by shutting it in a door.
The cat gave its owner a quizzical look but didn't bother moving away from Will's legs until she handed him an old metal stepladder. It creaked on its rusted hinges as he pried it into an open position. When he set it down on the tile floor, it didn't seem to be well-balanced. Will caught himself wondering if it was safe before Mrs. Fields snagged his attention by handing him the replacement light bulb.
"Be careful," she warned, as if he needed such a warning.
Will took the bulb and climbed the two steps until he could reach the light fixture. The stepladder teetered beneath his feet, and he found himself wanting to grab for the handle. Once on the top step, he reached up to unscrew the dead bulb.
"I'll take it," Mrs. Fields offered, extending her hand to him.
Will shifted his weight, and an ear-piercing scream rose up from the floor. It wasn't a human scream, but animal. Will looked down just in time to see the cat's foot stuck under the stepladder. Panicked, he leaned back in the hopes that the stepladder would shift off of Mitten's trapped appendage, but he put too much weight into it and ended up losing his balance.
The light bulb flew from his hand, sailing over the kitchen bar and landing somewhere in the living room with a crack and shatter. Will's feet slipped out from under him as the stepladder began to topple over, and Mrs. Fields moved out of the way just in time to miss Will crashing into her. He gripped for the counter to gain his footing but missed, his head coming down on the corner of it with a sickening thud that sent his entire world into darkness.
CHAPTER TWO
EARTH – August 20th, 2057
A nurse monitored the beeping machines hooked up to Will and reported to a man wearing a black suit standing by the side of his bed. "Patient stable. All vitals are good."
The man was bald with a smooth face, tall at 6'2 and with impeccable posture. His brown eyes betrayed false sympathy as he stared down at Will's body as if he was an object and not a person.
Will's parents sat a few feet away clutching each other's hands as they watched their sleeping son from a distance. Not sleeping. In a coma. It didn't seem real to them, but it was. The brain trauma from the impact with the corner of Mrs. Fields' kitchen counter had been severe. Will was stable for now, but there was no guarantee he'd ever wake up.
"Is this really safe?" Will's mother asked. She was on the edge of her seat, apprehension in her mind as to whether or not they should allow Radical Interactive to carry on with this experiment when their son was in such a fragile state. The decision was out of her hands, though. Will had signed the paperwork. His unconscious body was now the property of Radical Interactive until the time he woke up. If he ever woke up.
That's why he was now lying in a large white room with the best medical care that money could buy. None of this would have been affordable on his parents' salaries. In fact, they would have had to pull the plug on him within a week's time because of the exorbitant hospital fees.
This was both a blessing and a curse. Their son got to remain alive, yet he was also being used as a guinea pig for Radical Interactive's software; software that they said may be able to fix what was broken inside of him.
Michael Coleman, the man in black, held a box in his hand. He flipped it open, looking at the small white disc inside. The nurse by his side left the room to retrieve the injector gun needed to install it.
"Mrs. Galvan, there are no guarantees that William will wake up if we do this, but I promise that this is the best chance your son has." He gazed down into the box.
"What is it?" She leaned forward curiously, brushing a phantom curl away from her face. Her blonde hair was pinned back. Will had always thought her to be beautiful, but today she looked older than usual. The white floral dress she had on was something she would have typically worn to church.
Will's father was stoic, taking in everything around them but not saying much. He had always been a man of few words, and the helplessness of the situation made him want to say even less. He knew that watching was all that they could do. Watching and hoping that one day their son would return to them.
Mr. Coleman pulled the disc from the box. It was mostly white with light-emitting diodes on the surface that told which parts of the brain the device was accessing when it was active. Right now, they were all dark. There was a long needlelike protrusion coming from one flat end. That's what the injector gun was for.
"It's a world," Mr. Coleman explained simply. "Not like the one we live in. This world is special. It's designed with the most state of the art artificial intelligence. This device will plug into William's cerebral cortex and fire off electrical signals to access all the different parts of his brain, keeping it active and hopefully repairing the damage in the process. We've worked with a team of neuroscientists to develop this tech specifically for people in your son's condition." The tech had always fascinated him—how much time and money went into creating such a small thing.
"How successful has this procedure been in the past?" Mr. Galvan asked skeptically.
"When will he wake up?" Mrs. Galvan's blue eyes flashed with hope. It was obvious that she was already sold on the promise of the device.
"That's entirely up to William." Mr. Coleman shut the now empty box and stuck it back in his pocket, twisting to take the injector gun from the nurse. She gave a soft smile as she handed it over to him. "The software can only do so much. William has to take certain actions inside the world to stimulate the electrical pulses needed to fix his brain. It can't be forced." He pressed a button to open the gun, sliding the disc inside like a bullet with the needle facing the barrel.
"But don't worry. He won't be alone. There are guides inside the program and also several other people from across the world connected virtually to help each other out," he informed them as he approached the head of the bed.
Mrs. Galvan clutched her husband's hand more tightly as she watched the man in black lift the gun to her son's temple. Once he pulled the trigger, there would be no going back. The device would either work or it wouldn't. All of their hopes rested on that one small white disc and whatever magical medical
technology was inside of it.
"Here we go," Mr. Coleman said with an inhale of breath before pressing the gun to Will's temple. The implant installed with the sound of a click. When Mr. Coleman pulled the barrel away, the lights on the device flashed at him, signaling that it was now active.
"Welcome to The Realm, William Galvan."
CHAPTER THREE
THE REALM – Day 1
How much did I have to drink last night?
It felt like an icepick had been shoved into Will's temple, sending a resounding throbbing through his skull. For a moment, everything hurt. Then like a wave, the pain receded back to where it had started from and disappeared.
That was weird.
He struggled to open his eyes. There was a heaviness to his lids akin to days of lost sleep. Part of him just wanted to sink back down into his bed and slumber, but he was quickly becoming aware that there was nothing to sink back down into. His back itched and ached. There was something hard and, for lack of a better word...pokey beneath him.
Inhaling deeply, there was a musty scent to his surroundings, something that would normally rile his allergies. Some type of cut foliage. Grass or...
His hands groped at his sides, feeling light prickling beneath his fingertips. He curled his fist, his fingers sinking past brittle stalks. It wasn't until he was finally able to force his eyes open that he realized he was lying on a bed of straw.
Holy shit! Startled, Will sat up. Where in the hell did I fall asleep last night? What happened? The last thing I remember ...
That was strange. He couldn't remember anything at all.
In the dim pallor of light, Will surveyed his surroundings. It took his eyes a moment to calibrate, scanning over the floor where the straw grew sparser and turned into dirt. Large wooden beams were supporting a gambrel roof. To his left, he could see frames of wooden stalls and hear the animals moving around within. A loft hung overhead, heavy with hay.
Other scents assaulted his senses, the stank of manure and animal fur. It didn't take him long to realize he was in a barn. But how did he get here? He didn't remember drunkenly stumbling in and passing out in the straw. There was no hot farmer's daughter by his side to indicate he'd been lured in. Hell, he didn't even know anyone who owned a farm.
"What the fuck?" Will clutched onto his head as another streak of pain assaulted him. It was a sharp pain, the type that typically kicked him into hypochondriac mode and made him think he was having an aneurysm. But just like that, it was gone again.
As if the stress of his confusion wasn't enough, the sound of the unwieldy barn door sliding open to his right about made Will's heart jump out of his throat. Light streamed in, blinding him and casting a warm glow across his body. His arm automatically raised to shield his eyes from the offending beams, though he squinted to see who was approaching.
"You're awake," a burly voice said before the silhouette of a large man appeared. At first, he was just a black outline, but as Will's eyes adjusted to the blinding light, he noticed that the man was wearing something reminiscent of a simple costume at a Renaissance festival. A tan tunic covered his body with darker colored breeches beneath. His shoes were worn and looked nothing like what Will had ever seen in a store. He was older, with dark stubble on his chin and jaw interrupted by a deep scar on the right side of his face. Kindly brown eyes peered down at Will beneath dark tousled hair. The man was thick with muscle but didn't appear threatening.
"I'm awake." Will pressed his back against the barn wall.
"How much do you remember?" The man stopped in front of him, looking imposing despite his friendly disposition.
Pain coursed through Will's temple again, causing him to draw his fingers up to it. Remember. What had he been doing before this? Last night. What crazy drunk escapade had brought him here? For as much as he tried to concentrate, nothing would come back to him. It was as if his life before this moment didn't even exist.
Will opened his mouth to speak. It felt like he hadn't drunk water in days. "I'm..." he began, but nothing else would follow. Words were lost to him. The massive amount of confusion was filling a pool of stress inside of him that was about to spill over into a full blown panic attack.
"It's okay, son." The man held out his palm in a calming gesture. "It's okay if you don't remember. I'll explain what I can."
Will blew out a shaky breath. "Thank you." It was strange to be lost to even himself.
"You're on Crescent Island. My sons and I found you lying unconscious in the forest while we were out hunting. They helped me bring you back here.
"Sorry that we couldn't offer you accommodations inside the house, but I needed to make sure you were not hostile. I'm sure you understand. There are unfortunately a lot of bad people in The Realm. You can never be too careful about who you decide to trust."
"The Realm," Will parroted. Where had he heard that before? There was something...wrong about it.
Static buzzed in his head, the memory of blocky images, though he didn't know where they had come from. There was nothing like that here. Everything was as real as he was. At least, it seemed that way. He could smell and see and touch and taste.
"Yes. That is the world we live in." The man lifted his arms as if encompassing everything around them.
"I'm sorry. I'm just a bit confused." Pressing his eyes closed, Will tried once more to remember what had happened, but everything was jumbled inside his head.
"Ah well. No worries." The man waved Will's apology away. "I suppose you must have been through something awful to have lost all of your memories." He paused for a moment. "We should probably check to see if you've recovered from your injuries. Can you do a basic stat check for me?"
"A stat check?" Will instantly began looking himself over.
Huh?
He was wearing a tunic and breeches, too. This definitely didn't seem normal. He couldn't ever remember owning anything like this. He did, however, remember jeans and t-shirts. Was this guy just fucking with him? Now suspicious, he eyed the man warily. "Where are my clothes?"
"Your clothes?" He quirked his head back in confusion. "That's what you were wearing when we found you."
"These aren't mine." Will tugged at his tunic.
"Then someone else must have put you in them. It wasn't us." The man shook his head, looking a bit concerned.
Will stared at him for a moment longer. Even though the man was a stranger, Will didn't get the feeling that he was lying.
It was strange that he would have just been lying in the forest for no reason. Again, he thought it must be alcohol-related. But if so, what bar had he come from? And why had he been aimlessly wandering through the woods? Had someone been chasing him? Will desperately wished he could remember.
"I think I'm fine," he said finally.
"So your health and stamina are back to 100%?"
"I think so," Will replied slowly. Why was this guy looking at him like he didn't believe him?
"You didn't do a stat check, did you?" The man's face settled into a sarcastic expression. It was clear he wasn't buying that Will had actually checked his stats. Hadn't he seen Will looking himself over? Will hadn't thought he'd been subtle about it.
"I'm fine," he insisted.
"You don't remember how to do a stat check, do you?" The man crossed his arms over his chest.
An exasperated sigh slipped between Will's lips. "What's a stat check?"
"Man, you really did hit your head hard." The guy gave him a sympathetic look. "Concentrate on bringing up your stats. You'll see a screen with all of your vital information."
"What?" That didn't sound normal at all.
"Just do it." The man gestured impatiently.
Will looked at him like he was crazy for a moment before deciding to give it a try. He didn't have to concentrate for long before his vision was filled with a translucent screen displaying a wealth of information.
Name: Unknown
Race: Human
Level: 1, 0%
; Health: 100 / 100
Mana: 100 / 100
Stamina: 100 / 100
Vitality: 10
Intelligence: 10
Strength: 10
Agility: 10
Dexterity: 10
Charisma: 10
Luck: 10
Skills: None
Languages: Common Tongue
Holy shit with a WTF on top! This was just like a video game.
Will's jaw hung unhinged as he tried to process what he was seeing and what was going on. Things were coming back to him slowly but with no real clarity.
This could not be real!
Blinking the screen out of his vision, Will's hands went to his head to try to pull off the white headset that would undoubtedly make all of this go away. He had to be at his job at Radical Interactive beta testing their new version of The Realm. That's where he'd heard the name before. He was inside of a game. But if this was a game, then why was everything so real?
Advancements in virtual reality had grown by leaps and bounds in recent years, but not to this level. Not to the level that you could taste the bile in your mouth or feel the straw beneath your fingertips as if using your real hand or smell animal manure in the air. This was beyond even dreamlike realism. If not for the screen popping up in his vision, he likely never would have known that he was inside of a game.
Will's fingers slipped into his hair and passed right over his skull. The headset was not coming off. Was his real body even able to react to his in-game movements? Desperately, he tried to concentrate on a logoff function, but nothing appeared in his vision. He thought about finding a tutorial or a help function, but that brought nothing as well.
"What's going on?" Panic had Will's heart racing like a sprinter. His eyes were everywhere at once trying to search for weaknesses in the programming that would confirm that this was just a game. Clearly what had happened was that he had started beta testing The Realm, and the world was so immersive that he had somehow forgotten it wasn't real. Forgotten all of the rules of the game because his brain was having a hard time processing that it was, in fact, just a game.
