“Hope you make this worth my while, man. I just threw one of the biggest tournaments of the season for you. Damaged my rep bad,” the man in his early twenties said. His words trembled with the slightest fear as he stared down one of the most powerful criminals in the city. “So you got my money or what?”
Paris drew a bulging envelope from his coat. “I think this will suffice. And if you go to the Red District tonight, Francesca has been instructed to take care of all your needs for the evening, on the house.”
Anthrax’s mouth fell open as he peered into the envelope. “Uh yeah, alright man. Sounds…sounds good,” he mumbled, then hurried away.
“You set Harrison up,” Rodney stated and whistled. “Was wondering. I would’ve placed my bet on that kid too. Damn fine player.”
“Not fine enough if he’s willing to toss it all away for money.” Paris motioned to the man behind the bar and his glass filled to the brim with more vodka. “Just remember everything I told you, Rodney. This game is going to be the wave of the future for us. If we can get a handle on it first, take control of it from the inside, we’ll finally be out from under the cops’ thumbs and this city will be mine.” He spun his glass around, glaring at the mirror behind the bar. “If that old fool had simply taken me up on my offer to begin with, I wouldn’t have to resort to such treacherous methods. Cheers to men driving us back to our violent ways.”
Rodney lifted his glass to his boss’ and they clinked in toast. “Suppose I’ll have to get in touch with my inner peace if I’m to make friends in this game.”
“I’d never do that to you. It’s a PVP game, Rodney, and you my friend will always be in the role of villain.” Paris patted him on the back hard. “Might not be real blood, but I think you’ll find it just as satisfying.”
As Rodney walked away for the night, Paris motioned to his bartender to leave the bottle and go home. The place emptied out for everyone except two of his bodyguards. Paris slowly sipped his vodka, imagining the days to come if their plan was successful. He would own this city before the year was out, as long as Harrison came through for him. If not, he would have to get rid of the man. Two hundred thousand was barely a drop in the bucket for Paris. He needed the information from the game more and the chance to integrate some of his own tweaks along the way. Money was no longer a necessity for him. Power, that was what he truly wanted. Power to do as he pleased. Power to prove to the rest of the underworld he was the only crime lord worth following.
“Here’s to me,” he whispered, and he shot back another glassful of vodka. “All to me.”
Chapter 2
Sleep evaded Harrison for most of the night. He sat on the curb before the sun was even up, waiting for his ride to the gaming facility. He assumed it was somewhere in the city, but as he slid into the backseat and the car drove away, they left the city far behind.
“Where are we going?” he asked the driver, but the man didn’t respond.
Harrison swallowed hard wondering if, sometime during the night, Paris changed his mind and he was going to end up in the nearest pond with cement blocks for shoes.
Two hours later, Harrison spotted a tall wall surrounding a facility in the middle of the desert. The car was waved straight on through and Harrison’s heart jackhammered in his chest as they pulled around to the front of a white walled building with a huge domed roof. He almost forgot what got him into this situation and pressed his face against the window to see better, but restrained himself at the last second. Bad enough he was dying for a drop of alcohol and there was none to be found.
A woman in a white jacket and matching skirt walked down the steps from the front of the building and Harrison figured he might as well step outside and get this journey started.
He dragged his small duffel bag with him and pulled it over his head to his shoulder.
“Welcome,” the woman said, as she reached him and held out a hand.
“Hi,” Harrison replied as he shook her hand. “Harrison Harper, one of the beta testers. Brought the papers I was given.”
“Felicity Greyson,” the woman said. “You are expected, though one of the last to arrive. We worried you weren’t going to make it. Please follow me inside and we’ll get you settled in.”
“Great.” He followed her up the stairs and heard the car pull away behind him. “So, was I supposed to be here earlier? Or did I just miss some memo about the before party?” he teased awkwardly, hoping to hide his nervousness.
“No, no memo. We just assumed you changed your mind. You won’t be meeting the other players until orientation this evening,” she explained as they entered the pristine and high tech building.
Harrison shifted his duffel bag. Changed his mind? “How long have you known I would be arriving?”
“All letters were sent out weeks ago. We did not receive your RSVP until last night however, minutes before the deadline.”
“Huh, is that right.” That letter Paris gave him then was always intended for him? What type of game was that bastard playing at? There really wasn’t any use worrying about that now, he figured. He was here. He could deal with those questions later.
The doors, he noticed as they passed through, opened with a touch of her hand, and the lobby they stepped into was filled with natural light and trees lining the walls. “This is the main level. The dining hall and rec area are down the hall to your right and living quarters are to your left. I’ll show you to your room and then give you a tour of the rest of the place.”
Harrison nodded absently as he followed, too busy taking in every detail of the place as he could. The rooms they passed were numbered and had windowless doors. He noticed keypads on them all and, when they reached room number twenty-seven, Felicity paused and motioned to the numbers.
“You were given a code in your letter,” she said. “That is the code for your door.”
“No one else knows it?”
“None of the other players will, no, and I suggest you don’t tell them. The staff knows in case of an emergency.”
Harrison flipped through the pages until he found the last page and punched in the five-digit code. The door slid open with a whoosh and he flinched backwards. Felicity grinned and he cleared his throat, cheeks burning as he poked his head inside. “Wow.”
“Yes, we wanted to ensure our testers were comfortable during their time here.” She followed him in, her heels clicking louder on the tile floor of the fifteen by fifteen foot room.
“Pretty sure this place is larger than my old apartment,” he murmured.
“You won’t spend much time here, but no one likes sleeping in a confined space.”
He dumped his bag on the large, king-sized bed, and walked around the rest of the room slowly. There was a large double window that overlooked a large cacti garden and, beyond it, basketball courts and tennis courts. It might’ve been a shitty situation that landed him here, but he couldn’t find a reason to complain. A smile flitted across his lips until he turned around to see Felicity watching him closely, eyes narrowed and her smile not as friendly as before.
“Shall we move on?” she asked and stepped back, motioning towards the door.
“Sure,” he said quietly and walked past her. A shiver shot down his spine and his hands trembled as his nerves ratcheted up a notch. Whiskey was what he wanted, but there wasn’t a drop to be found, at least not that he could see.
“This is the cafeteria,” Felicity said as they walked through a set of double swinging doors. “Meals will be served three times a day, but you will have access to the kitchens and there will be a chef on duty nearly twenty-four seven if you are in need of anything else.”
“Does everyone play the game at the same time?” he asked as they passed through the cafeteria lined with padded chairs and fancy solid wooden tables to another set of swinging doors.
“Yes. Since it’s a very intense PVP game at times, we want to ensure the game is filled with enough players to challenge the other side at all times,” she said. “W
e have four hundred beta testers. One hundred will be selected to play as one side of the story and the three hundred others will be the hero side.”
“There’s a hero and villain line?”
Felicity’s smile widened until it was just plain creepy and Harrison found he couldn’t look away. “Yes, but you’ll find out more about that this evening.”
“How do I know which side I’m on?” he blurted out not thinking.
Her hand stiffened as she raised it and, for a split second, he thought she was going to hit him, but she simply pushed open the swinging door. “Next room, please, and you were told in your letter. Didn’t you read it?”
She marched forward and he followed trying to remember. He was still a bit drunk last night when he ran through all the papers. Anxiety ate at him now as he tried to remember which side he’d be playing for. If Paris interfered with him getting here then surely he was playing the role of a villain. It was fitting, though not what he wanted. He wasn’t a villain, at least he hadn’t started out that way. He made wrong choices and it was a downhill spiral after that. Losing his wife and son were never in the cards for him, or ruining his career that could’ve taken him on some great adventures in the newer high tech world of gaming.
If he was a villain, it was by happenstance and bad luck, not by who he was.
Harrison listened as Felicity told him all about the rec area for the players. He kept his lips firmly shut, clamoring for a drink to steady his nerves. His body ached for a drop, just one drop of that amber liquid to let him think straight and chase the sudden chill from his bones, but there were no bars anywhere in the building and no fridge or mini bar of any kind he saw in his room. He would have to figure out a way to get through this without his crutch.
Isn’t that what heroes are supposed to do? Maybe you’ll find out if you are one or not?
“Mr. Harper?” Felicity snapped loudly.
“Huh? Oh, sorry,” he mumbled, shaking his head. “Lost in my own head.”
“Does that happen often?”
“No, no of course not. Just a lot to take in,” he rambled. “Excited too for the game to start. Never played something quite like this.”
Her face softened, but it still appeared fake to his eyes. “Well you were given that letter for a reason, Mr. Harper. Your name appeared on our list of eligible candidates months ago. I have a feeling you will be one of our top players in no time.”
“Months?” he asked, face scrunched in confusion. “How was I chosen?”
“This way, Mr. Harper,” she said, ignoring him, and she walked through another set of double doors. These led out to the grounds surrounding the facility. A large white fabric overhang blew gently in the warm desert air. “You and the other players are free to roam the grounds within the walls. Can’t have anyone leaving during such a sensitive time for the game.”
“No I understand,” he said quickly, thinking of Paris and how he was going to manage to send that bastard information. The walls were over twenty feet high and…he squinted at the top of the wall. “Are those men armed?”
“No, course not, those are radios,” she said with a laugh, and when Harrison looked again his shoulders sagged. “We’re not holding you here as prisoners.”
“So if I decide to quit?”
“Then you forfeit any monetary earnings you had from the game, you sign a legal document saying you will not repeat any of what you have seen or experienced, and we drive you to the airport or city of your choice.”
Harrison glanced up at the men patrolling the wall again. He could’ve sworn they were holding rifles a second ago. Felicity motioned him to follow her back inside and he did, wondering if it was the lack of alcohol in his system causing him to hallucinate or something else.
Before he stepped out of the sunlight, he observed the walls one final time and paused, narrowing his eyes where the wall hit the clear open sky.
“Mr. Harper? Something wrong?”
“No,” he said slowly, and he forced a smile to his face. “No nothing at all.”
He stepped inside and wondered if any of the other gamers would see the shimmering along the top of the wall, or if that too was simply a trick of his deprived and over taxed mind.
Felicity led him back to his room to relax and settle in for the remainder of the afternoon. The orientation would begin at five and they would have a meet and greet afterwards with the other players, but Harrison wasn’t in a mood to be social. He was here to play this game, earn a decent chunk of money, and leave here free from Paris Benson’s hold. He unpacked his few belongings in his room and paced around the large space, reading through the brochures left for him describing the company and giving very few details about the game he was preparing to play.
Virtual reality was the wave of the future, but no games had officially been released yet. This one, if the beta tests were successful, would be out in time for the holidays, provided there were no huge bugs to work out. Harrison wondered if a month was even long enough to find out about those bugs.
He studied the equipment diagrammed in the middle of the brochure and ran his fingers over each detail. The helmet sat full over the player’s head and a visor slipped down to cover their eyes. The rest of the person’s body would be rested back on a slanted surface, their hands at their sides with several different sensors attached to their fingers mostly to monitor the player’s heart rate, blood pressure, and so on during game play. The last few pages listed out the dangers of playing an untested virtual reality game, but Harrison skipped that part, too anxious to add any more worries to his mind.
He sank on the bed to try and rest for a bit. After a while, he gave up and took place near the window. He stared out over the cacti gardens and what he could see of the wall. He wanted to see the shimmering again. However, no matter how he tilted his head, it never reappeared. Even the guards on the wall all looked normal again—not a gun in sight or anything that looked like a gun.
“Losing it,” he whispered to himself. “Here less than a day and you’re already losing it.”
Harrison kicked his empty duffel aside and something small skittered out of it, sliding across the floor. He sank to his knees to grab it from under the bed and studied the drive in his hand.
There was a note taped to it with a single word on it: Game-time.
“What the hell does he expect me to do with this?” Harrison flipped it over in his palm.
He didn’t pack it and wondered when it managed to get into his bag. The driver must’ve done it at some point and he didn’t notice.
Harrison looked around his room shrugging. There were no computers and he didn’t have a cell phone anymore. There was no way to transmit this information out of the facility…game-time? Did he mean insert it into the console while he was playing? He assumed the game would have to be online, but that they were playing on a closed server with limited access. If he tried to insert an unknown drive, they would know for sure.
Ready to chuck the drive away, Harrison paused when something else vibrated inside the duffel bag. Glancing at the door, as if afraid Felicity might burst in at any second and kick him out, he scrambled with his bag until he found the vibrating object zipped up in an inside pocket.
It wasn’t a phone, or at least not one he’d seen before. The small square fit in the palm of his hand, was flat, and a message scrolled across the screen: Do not disappoint me, Harrison, or you will not like the outcome. Use this to communicate. You’ll figure it out.
“Damn it,” Harrison muttered, and he sat down hard on the floor.
A loud alarm sounded in his room and he leapt to his feet with a yell: “Attention all players, the orientation is about to begin. Please exit your rooms and follow the lighted path to the auditorium. Thank you and welcome to Valen Games.”
“Valen Games,” Harrison repeated as he quickly hid the drive and square object in a drawer under his clothes. He never heard of Valen Games before, but the past year he hadn’t really been worried about
who was doing what.
Readjusting his black t-shirt, he stepped out of his room and was swarmed by the other players chatting and laughing excitedly as they moved down the hall en masse.
Harrison fell in step beside a few guys, but kept his gaze straight ahead. His hands shook and he swallowed hard a few times, thirsty for a drink. He never liked crowds before his drinking, but on the booze he never gave a shit. Now without the booze to comfort him, he fought the urge to sprint back to his room and lock himself in. Everyone here was happy and talking loudly drowning out his harsh breathing.
“Hey man, you good?”
“Yeah,” he said to the guy next to him. “Yeah sorry, just ah…first time I’ve done something like this. Pretty sweet.”
“Me too! This is incredible, never been in a building this high tech.” The man, maybe twenty-one, held out a hand. “Jimmy.”
“Harrison,” he said as he shook the man’s hand and tried to relax as they passed through the lobby. Flashing lights overhead in the ceiling and along the walls guided the gamers through a hall Harrison wasn’t shown on the tour. “So did you get a letter, too?”
“Yeah, couldn’t remember ever signing up for a beta test, though.” Jimmy shrugged it off. “Not that I’m going to complain. A free month of being able to game every day? And a chance to earn money from it? Not turning that down. I’m almost finished with college and those loans are gonna be a killer. Scraped together that one thousand for entry and it’s totally going to be worth it.”
Harrison didn’t even want to think of any other money he owed except to Paris. “You heard of this gaming company before?”
“Nah man, but heard rumors of a few newer companies keeping everything under wraps until their big launches,” Jimmy said, rubbing his hands together with a glint in his eyes. “VR games, the wave of the future. And we get to be on the first line of seeing how they work!”
The lights led them down a long corridor with glass walls and Harrison couldn’t help but let his excitement override his anxiety at least for a few moments.
The Wraith of Valenastrious: A LitRPG Epic (World of Samar Book 1) Page 2
