As the shift was coming to a close—and Michael started watching the clock more than the television—his worst nightmare occurred. A few of the football players rolled up to the pumps in a brand new Mercedes convertible. There were girls sitting in the back seat, their music was cranked all the way up to max volume, and two players in the front seats had a proclivity towards making fun of the less cool kids at school. Michael prayed that they would just pay at the pump. But, Michael never did have excellent luck—and he didn’t pray much either—so of course the two jocks hopped out of the front seats and attempted to pump gas without paying first. They waited a second for the pump to say that they could pump, but that message never game. Next, they turned towards where Michael was sitting, put their hands in the air and gave him a “what gives” look. Michael resigned and leaned over, pushing the button on the intercom system. After clearing his throat, he said, “Excuse me, you need to either pay at the pump or come inside and pay before pumping.” Please choose the former, he thought. They did not.
Michael could tell they were irritated by the notion that they had to do more work than originally expected when they slammed down the pump before making their way inside.
“What gives little man, are you afraid we are going to run away with your precious gas or something?” The one jock—who Michael knew as Blaine—said as he walked up to the counter. When he got there, he noticed Michael’s leg braces and said, “Oh shit, you are worried about us running away. You’d never catch us.”
The two had a good laugh at the joke before the other jock—who Michael knew as Jason—said, “Snap! Don’t you go to Crestmont High, too?”
Michael didn’t say anything, but he just nodded his head. “Damn Blaine, check it out, it’s crippleshits!”
“Oh my god,” said Blaine. “You have got to be kidding me; the Salty Pirate himself works at the Exxon?”
“I didn’t know the Exxon changed its name to the Gimpshop,” Jason retorted. These jokes went on for about three—for Michael—excruciatingly long minutes. They each went back and forth naming as many insulting names as they could come up with for Michael’s disorder. Finally, when they both had run out of insults, they paid Michael twenty bucks and left laughing their heads off. Michael could see that they were sharing the merriment with the three girls in the back of their convertible while they pumped the gas. The three of them each took turns turning around and looking at the freak. Michael almost hated them as much as he did the football players.
After they left, Michael turned off the lights of the canopy that covers the gas tanks and switched the sign from open to closed. All he had to do now was stock the refrigerators with pop. Michael always tried to look at the bright side, at least Michael didn’t have to hobble his way over to the fridges while those assholes were here, Michael thought. Luckily, the Exxon had been pretty dead that evening, and he didn’t have to stock much. He finished in five minutes.
Michael then went to work on counting the till but he kept on losing count. As much as he didn’t want to admit it, those guys coming by had gotten to him, and he started to cry. Not a loud, outrageous cry, but there were definitely tears. While he whimpered, face down on the desk, money everywhere, he could hear the television in the background.
“Do you want to transport yourself somewhere to another galaxy?” The guy on the television said. “Do you want to be someone else, someone who can do the impossible?”
This last comment had caught Michael’s attention, and he looked up from his desk and wiped his eyes clean. On the television was a man wearing colorful garb, wielding a sword, jumping around a magical landscape, and dealing deadly blows to all sorts of monsters. The graphics were so crisp the game could be real.
“Right now, for a limited time, you can have the newest, Oculus Rift headset and virtual reality system for five-hundred and ninety-nine dollars. And, if you act now, we will add in the newest game, Archaic Venture for free!” Rang the television before the commercial ended. Michael sat there and thought about what it would be like to join an alternate universe—a virtual reality. He could walk normally, people wouldn’t know anything about his past, there was no telling what he could or couldn’t accomplish, and he had the six-hundred dollars sitting in his bank account already. This deal couldn’t have come at a better time for Michael Maddox. It was summertime, and he needed a break from reality.
When Michael got home that night—after taking the bus home—he found his parents sitting in the living room. His mother was reading her most recently purchased romance novel, and his father was watching the Yankees lay a whooping on the Seattle Mariners. They ignored his presence—as per usual—until he stood in front of the television and announced, “I need to talk to you both.”
“Can it wait till after the game son?” Mr. Maddox said as he waved for Michael to get out of the way of the T.V.
“I am afraid it can’t, dad,” Michael said. “I only have a limited time to do this.”
“Okay, okay, I’ll put the television on mute, just get out of the way,” Mr. Maddox said, pushing the mute button on his controller.
“What is it, honey?” Mrs. Maddox said in a polite voice to her son.
“I want to buy a virtual reality system.”
“No way,” Mr. Maddox said instantly, pushing the mute button and allowing it to come back to life.
“Steven,” Mrs. Maddox said in an impatient voice. “Turn that damn thing off this instant. You didn’t even let the boy speak his peace.”
“I don’t care what he has to say,” Mr. Maddox countered. “We are not spending money on something that will distract our some beyond belief. You think it’s hard to get him to do his stretches and work out now, try getting him to do it when he has that. Not to mention, do you have any idea how expensive those things cost?”
“God, Steven,” Mrs. Maddox said, exasperated. “You are so cheap sometimes it blows my mind. I should have—”
“Mom,” Michael interrupted her before she was going to say something she might regret. “I don’t expect you to pay for anything.”
This perked Mr. Maddox’s attention. He pushed himself out of his stupor on the couch and leaned forward. “Go on, son?”
“I have been working at the Exxon for three quarters of a year, and I have been putting money aside for college, but I have also been putting a tiny amount each paycheque aside for something for me. Right now, there is a great deal on the system and a game, and I can afford it.”
“What about your exercises, Michael?” Mr. Maddox asked.
“Jesus, Steven, let the boy have one simple pleasure in life. God knows that he can’t have many because of his disease,” Mrs. Maddox attacked.
“I promise I will do them every night, dad,” Michael interrupted. “On top of that, the virtual reality system demands that the player stands and performs certain motions in its games. Technically, I would be improving my balance and leg strength by just playing.”
“Hmm,” Mr. Maddox thought audibly.
“I mean, I’m sold Michael,” Mrs. Maddox said. “What do you think Steven? The boy makes a strong case.”
Michael’s dad furrowed his brow and seemed to be thinking very much on the matter. After a minute or two of deliberating, Mr. Maddox nodded his head and said, “As long as you promise that you will still perform all of your stretches and exercises every night before bed.”
“I promise,” Michael said sincerely.
, “Okay,” Mr. Maddox said. “I will take you to the store tomorrow, and you can buy it. Now, get out of the way of the television, I want to watch my game.”
Michael happily obliged his father and even offered to get him a beer from the fridge. Once he had retrieved the beer for his father, he wished his parents goodnight, kissed his mother, and hobbled off to his bedroom where he spent the whole night dreaming of the possibilities of tomorrow.
The next morning Michael woke up before seven. He was so excited to purchase his new gaming system and try out his new
game, but more importantly, he was excited to feel what it was like to walk normally—even if it is just in a virtual reality. He made his way into the kitchen and put some toast on for him, and his father lathered them both with peanut butter and waited for his father to wake up. This didn’t happen until nine thirty.
His father awoke groggily from the night before. He rejected the toast Michael made for him, presumably because he was hung over. All Mr. Maddox wanted was a strong cup of coffee. After a little bit of small talk, Michael convinced his father of the urgency of getting to the store early because of the fantastic deal on the Oculus Rifts, and they were out the door by ten.
Unfortunately for Michael, he had been right about the need for urgency. The store was a zoo when they walked through the front doors. The two bobbed and weaved through the masses en route to the electronics department—a feat not very easy for one with cerebral palsy. To be honest, it may have been more comfortable if Michael had just waited in the car, but Mr. Maddox was not one who usually thought of his son first, and his hangover wasn’t necessarily filling him with compassion.
Despite everything working against them that morning, Michael and his father managed to capture one of the few Oculus Rifts left in stock. Michael swiped his debit card, paid the five-hundred, and ninety-nine dollars for the system, and they were on their way.
On the way home, Michael un-wrapped his new game, Archaic Venture. The graphics looked better than they did in the commercial he had seen. He opened up the case, pulled out the manual and flipped through the pages. His excitement had reached euphoria. He couldn’t help but think about how he was about to see what it was like to stand tall and walk straight.
When they pulled up into the driveway, Michael jumped out of the car and raced into the house. He didn’t jump, and race, but even Mr. Maddox was surprised with the gumption that Michael moved. For the first time, Mr. Maddox thought that this might help his son walk properly. Meanwhile, in the house, Michael was opening up the box to his new gaming system. First, he pulled out the box. It was a sleek cube with no buttons. The power button and open button were just sensors and would illuminate when his fingers moved across them. Next, he pulled out the gloves and shoes. They fit snuggly on his feet and hands. Finally, Michael pulled out the headset. He was surprised with how light it was and when he put it on it blocked out every ounce of light in the room. Michael slid up the visor, plugged the system into the wall and television, slid his finger along the power and open button, and placed the game inside the council and closed it. Before sliding down the visor and entering a new reality, he took a deep breath to calm his nerves. Michael chuckled to himself because he realized how silly this was; after all, it is just a video game. Soon, he would realize that he was right to be nervous, because Archaic Venture—at least to him—would become so much more than just a game.
Chapter III
The visor on Michael’s screen lit up a bright white, and a black star shot across the screen where it stopped in the middle and spun. “Welcome to Oculus Rift,” said a woman’s voice in Michael’s ear. The screen then went black, and a sound rumbled in Michael’s ears. It is the sound of horses galloping, at least that’s what he thinks it was, but when the screen changes from a midnight black to a horde of Orcs riding ravenous—dog-like—beasts he was surprised and excited. The swarm was heading straight toward a standing army of mortal men wearing sleek, silvery armor with red flags and a golden seal of a dragon. Instead of moving to strike, they stand stern in the face of danger. The tension built, and Michael began grinding his teeth—the graphics were so real. The Orcs cross an invisible barrier, one that was only known to the standing army of men and the viewer. All of a sudden, a massive wall of water rose out of the ground in front of the standing army and drops down onto the insurgent army and washing them away in the tsunami. Michael had washed away as well, and the screen displays nothing but water and bubbles rising out of it. Out of the water, two words move from the background into focus; they read Archaic Venture.
After the intro, the menu screen and gave Michael a choice—who he wanted to be. Using his gloves, Michael pressed his thumb and index finger against each other, and it selected the button that read, choose your character. The first choice he was whether he wanted his character to be male or female. Michael chose male. His second choice was what race he wanted his character to be—the choices were numerous. He could choose from humans, elves, dark-elves, dwarfs, goblins, orcs, hobbits, gnomes, and all sorts of half-breeds. The choice was difficult, but in the end, Michael had chosen the same race of his favorite fantasy books growing up, the Icewind Dale trilogy. He chose a dark-elf. Following this choice, Michael configured his character to look how Michael wanted. He chose long white hair, matching eye color, and a medium to larger build. Finally, Michael gets to choose what class his character falls under. The choices are similar to many other role-playing games, choices like warrior, warlock, wizard, shaman, rogue, priest, paladin, monk, mage, hunter, druid, knight, and death knight. This decision was tough for Michael; he didn’t know how he felt. This verdict could decide whether he was a good guy or a bad guy and how he would run his virtual life. Eventually, Michael lands on death knight. The character has the brute force of the warrior class or the paladin but has the stealth and agility of a rogue or a hunter. The one thing that drew Michael to this class is that the death knight does not choose sides, it deciphers right from wrong and acts accordingly—this, and the fact that the class does not wield a shield, it instead used two blades for offense and defense; something that Michael found extremely badass. Now that his character had been selected, fitted with the necessary first level weaponry and armor, and was ready to start, the last thing Michael needs to do was name him. For a moment Michael pondered over his selections and wondered what the best name would be for his death knight dark-elf character. Does he name him after himself? Does Michael use a name from his favorite book series? Or, does he make up something completely original. After much deliberating, Michael decided on the latter and types in his new characters name, Draynor.
The game begins in an open field. Presumably, this is so that the new player can get used to the controls and motions that he is to perform to play the game. Unsure of what to do—or even how to move forward—Michael pushes his fingers together taps on the helmet and moves his arms like he is cross-country skiing, but still nothing happens, and the character remains stationary. Finally, Michael leans forward out of both frustration and a little fatigue. To his surprise, the character bends over with him. Using this new information, Michael hesitatingly lifts his knee into the air. The character performs the same motion. Now, Michael walks on the spot—his character moves forward a few paces. Before doing anything further, Michael leans over and checks the clasps on his leg braces, making sure that they are snug and secure. Now that he knows that they aren’t going to fall off, Michael—with much enthusiasm, walks on the spot and this delight watches as his character moves with ease. Next, Michael tried to pick up the pace. The sight of his character running through the fields was the best feeling Michael has felt in months, it is almost as if he was the one running across the field himself; he can practically feel the air against his face.
The game registered that Michael was getting the hang of the movement aspect of the game and signals him in the form of an icon in the corner of the screen. The icon read, “Hey Draynor, now that you have figured out how to move, why don’t you try using those fancy swords of yours? There are plenty of sheep around, let’s see you trim the heard a little bit.” Michael walked up to the sheep and raised his hand into the air, Draynor mimicked Michael’s motion and the blade in Draynor’s hand rose with it. Michael hesitated for a moment, wondering if he really could kill a harmless sheep. After all, it looked so real; but, after convincing himself that it was just a game, Michael dropped the hammer, and Draynor’s blade went right through the sheep like butter. Michael winced at the sight of all the blood, it was disgusting, but it didn’t deter Michae
l. The act of killing the sheep had earned him his first experience points which showed up in the bottom left-hand corner of his screen. Not only did he gain experience, but he also earned gold—another category that shows on the main screen. With each sheep, he killed he earned ten experience points and one piece of gold. For the next five to ten minutes, all Michael did was run around the field killing sheep—it was a massacre, but Michael ended up leveling up to the second level.
Once Michael had leveled up, another icon popped up. This one read something different, “Congratulations Draynor! You have reached the second level. Now that you are a level two death knight, you are capable of changing your weapons and armor. There is a town just over the hill, an arrow at the top of the screen was pointing north-west, I suggest you take the gold you have gained and head in that direction. There, you will find a blacksmith and other shops that you can spend your gold. I recommend you use the money and buy yourself some new digs!” Excitedly, Michael decided to listen to the icon and follow the north-western heading.
Archaic Venture_The Myth Of Cerberus Page 2
