Necrovoid

by Ian Woodhead

  The family were in the kitchen. Dad and his sister sat at the table and mum trying to find a radio station on the wireless which worked. He walked in, expecting all activity to cease and three jaws to drop before the inevitable burst of questions started. He received a good morning from mum. His dad asked him to get the salt out of the cupboard and his sister did what she always did by acting like Jordan didn’t exist.

  His fingers gently caressed the sensenet , as if the damn thing had magically turned into a necklace of rosary beads. The only one to gape was him. He stood there framed in the doorway while his family carried on their normal lives like nothing weird had happened. In their books nothing strange had gone on. It took him exactly two seconds to decide that perhaps the adventures, as fucked up as it was, in Necrovoid was far better than reality.

  Jordan even turned around and almost reached the bottom of the stairs when something happened which altered everything. His dad changed the channel on TV just in time to watch the latest developments regarding the Necrovoid crisis. He listened, open mouthed as the newsreader told them that Germany had just reported another two thousand individuals had fallen into a coma whilst playing the game, making a total so far to eight thousand. The newsreader explained that this number was expected to rise as they were still waiting for confirmation from the medical authorities in the USA, Japan and South Korea.

  Naturally, three pairs of eyes switched from the TV screen to him. Jordan had already stuffed the sensenet into his pocket. His parents buffeted him with a stream of questions, each one a thinly veiled accusation, like the mass downing of every geek on the planet was his fault. Did he know about Necrovoid? Had he used it? I'm not having anything like that in this house.

  Once they'd established that he wasn't a player, the discussion turned to pitying the poor parents belonging to the kids in comas. In all the discourse, his sister hadn't said a single word which made Jordan wonder if the NPC had been telling the truth about mum finding out about her daughter's secret man.

  His mum passed him a plate containing a couple of bacon sandwiches and some biscuits. With his feast clasped firmly in his hand, Jordan made himself scarce by retreating to his bedroom to let those three carry on with their own little tasks and routines. Jordan needed some alone time to think about what to do now.

  The last words Jordan heard from his dad as he climbed the stairs concerned the youth of today unable to interact with real people any more and perhaps this disaster would be a wake up call to the parents to start restricting their time on all these evil electronic comfort blankets.

  They weren't comfort blankets, more like the drug of choice for this generation. Nothing would stop them from getting that fix. Not their parents that's for sure. Jordan even doubted the sight of all those kids in comas would stop the die-hards. It did concern him though as he believed he knew what had happened.

  The ones in comas were obviously noobs, who hadn't figured out the game had more than one layer. The poor bastards were probably still in the deep game, running around that fucking shopping mall like rats in a maze. There was one piece of this dilemma which did worry him. How could they still be inside Necrovoid if they no long wore the sensenet ?

  Jordan dropped his own sensenet on the licked clean plate and stared at it, still not sure what he was going to do. He pulled out his phone, selected Barry's number from the directory and hovered his finger over the call button. Was there any point in calling him? Barry was either still inside Necrovoid, in hospital or asleep. Even if he was awake, the annoying twat wouldn't answer his phone anyway. He never did. Sighing, he dropped that on the bed as well

  Maybe it would be best to wait just a while longer before taking the momentous decision to bin the sensenet . It more than likely that the kids will start waking soon. He looked at his fingernails. Wait, maybe there was another explanation? Could it be possible that the designers of Necrovoid had engineered this as a publicity stunt? Sure, that did sound possible. Everybody knew that Bad news always travels much farther than good news. The game designers of the most addictive and most complex game ever created were not like poor Matt dim bulb Spicer. They obviously did this to create tension, to provoke an outcry. To grab the headlines. Even the ones who had never heard of the game would be sitting up and paying attention now.

  In another hour or two, when the designers have milked out every drop of the headline news, that's exactly what those coma patients will be doing. Sitting up and paying attention, and they won't be demanding mummy hugs either, they'll be demanding their sensenet s back. That's when the shit will really hit the fan!

  “Or they might all just die,” he muttered.

  Jordan ran his fingers through his short hair. The birds had started up again. Mrs Spicer must have thrown some more food on the shed roof. The mad old bat was alive and well. He watched her chuck a couple of bagels up there earlier on. She must have sensed Jordan was watching because the old woman looked right at him. Jordan did his best not to flinch as her hard brown eyes appeared to drill twin holes through his head. He gave her a little wave which turned into a single finger salute once she had turned her back to him.

  Another sound joined the bird song. Somebody had opened their gate. At first, Jordan thought mum was back home but dismissed that notion. On a Monday morning, his mum's pay-check for the cleaning she did over at the community centre was paid into her account. She wouldn't be back for hours, her arms laden with carrier bags full of bargains she'd picked up at the many pound and discount stores which littered their town. Could it be Barry? That was a possibility. He hoped so. Jordan couldn't wait to tell him about dim bulb and that the game had chosen his mate to be an NPC companion. Would that mean in Barry's game, he might be the one ordering him about?

  He stood up, saw that it was only the postman and sat back down again. The letter box opened a moment later. Probably either junk mail or some more stupid scented candles for that annoying sister of his. Jordan listened to the postman walk down the path and open the gate.

  Bloody hell, just how giddy had he just become at the thought of trading war stories with his mate? “You so need to get yourself a real girlfriend, you sad little fucker.” Jordan grinned to himself. No, maybe not. If they were anything like his sister or his mum and her mate, then he was better off without them. He'd stick with Jenny. At least his game avatar knew how to interact with her. Thinking about her brought up his previous question of whether she existed in real life.

  He grinned again when he remembered how he reacted at the sight of her in the other game. God, he'd almost pissed his pants in terror! So did she exist in reality? He wanted to think so, after all. He already knew the game plucked random people from the user's memories and inserted them into the game's narrative. That meant the girl of his dreams might even live in his own town!

  Jordan decided to put looking for the real Jenny on his to do list. He found himself stroking the sensenet again. Yeah, that sounded like a plan. Find the real Jenny but not before he'd gotten naked with the digital Jenny. “In both game levels.” His grin got wider.

  Why bother lying to himself any longer? Of course he would be rolling that sensenet back over his head. Like the possible threat of ending up in a coma would stop him from partaking in the drug of his choice. His explanation concerning the reason for the coma patients, no matter how improbable it might sound under scrutiny was good enough for him.

  All that remained now was to work out how to crack both game levels, kill the zombies and bed both Jenny's before he really did end up in a coma. It shouldn't prove too difficult. He'd solved far more complex game puzzles in the past, and didn't the NPC say that Jordan had almost finished the deep game?

  He grabbed the empty plate, tipped the sensenet on the bed and padded over to the door. To solve this beast required more food. The bacon sandwiches filled a gap but considering Jordan hadn't eaten real food since Saturday, he was going to really have to stuff his face with goodies from the fridge.

  A plateful of thos
e vanilla slices would have fitted the bill. It's just a pisser that his real mum lacked the culinary skills needed to create such sweet delights. No wonder all those kids were in a coma. Their brains must have blown a fuse while trying to keep track of who's who and what's what.

  That wasn't going to happen to him. Jordan was made of sterner stuff. Hell, it wasn't a boast to declare himself a genuine gamesmaster. He stopped at the top of the stairs and looked out of the window, just to make sure that everything was still how it should. Granted, there were a couple of odd items on her garden shed but, as far as he knew, that rotting picture frame and bicycle wheel had been up there for months and he was sure the mad old bag hadn't put them there. More likely, it had been kids. As long as there wasn't a deckchair and a fucking space hopper, That's all what mattered.

  Jordan took the steps two at a time, reaching the bottom hall in no time. As far as he could make out, it was the maps which held all the clues to both game levels. As long as Jordan kept his head screwed on and refused to allow the game mechanics to fuck with his mind anymore, he reckoned Necrovoid was crackable.

  The first sight which greeted him upon entering the kitchen almost made him wonder if he was even paying attention to his surroundings. Jordan gazed down at the tiled floor, noting the obvious lack of broken glass. Why hadn’t he spotted that when he first came downstairs? What else had he missed? Jordan needed to be more observant, especially when he entered those two worlds again.

  He pulled open the fridge door, selected an already opened packet of roast beef, a couple of hard boiled eggs and a trifle. This should keep him going for the next few hours. Jordan made himself a promise that when he did finish this damn game, he'd celebrate with the biggest donner kebab that Amir's take away sold. The double mix monster kebab. It might cost a tenner but he reckoned there was enough meat in between the two naan breads to last him a couple of days.

  Jordan piled the food on the table then shut the fridge with his foot. He might have to stay in his bedroom for a while anyway as none of this food belonged to him, meaning it probably belonged to his sister. He grinned. The annoying cow would go spare if she knew her brother had swiped something belonging to her.

  Jordan grabbed his booty and wandered out into the hallway, he started to climb the stairs and attempted to form a plan of action for when he plugged himself back into the game. What did the NPC call it, an amnesia subroutine? Something like that. It was essentially a memory blocker. Whatever it was, that was going to be annoying, although he now saw the genius of the game's dual game play mechanics it was a double-edged sword. The deep game provided more weapons, more items and the zombies were shamblers. The down side is that once inside, the user wasn't aware of the other game or reality. The other, higher level game complemented the full awareness with hardly any weapons, ultra fast super zombies “Let's not forget a dipshit as the NPC companion,” he said.

  Jordan couldn't quite open the door, so he turned around and used his backside to push the handle down. His mind was full of ideas and strategies concerning both games which was probably the reason why he didn't realise he had company until it was too late.

  The sour scent of lavender scented candles hit his nose at the same time he spotted somebody else sitting on his bed. He stood perfectly still, not remotely concerned that the food in his hands most likely belonged to the woman glaring at him him. Jordan returned the glare.

  “Hello, shitbag.”

  She actually smiled at him. His sister radiated calmness and serenity. What was she playing at? He'd never seen her look so at ease. Not to him anyway. It proper freaked him out.

  “I kinda wondered how long it would take before you decided to raid the fridge. You know that's my stuff there. Looks like I caught you red handed. I may have to hurt you.”

  “What are you doing in here?” he replied, refusing to allow her change of tactic to rile him. She might be acting like some stoned country vicar. The attitude wasn't there but the words remained the same. “This is my bedroom. Get out, you're trespassing.”

  His sister crossed her legs. The grin widened. “I’m trespassing? That’s terrible. You had better call the police then. You know, you're so cute when you get all manly, Jordan. It kinda makes me regret what I'm about to say next.” She leaned forward and the girly attitude evaporated. “I know it was you who grassed me up to mum, you dirty little fucktrumpet.” She then reached across the bed covers and her fingers curled over his sensenet . “Maybe if I slapped you into orbit, when you return to Earth you might actually start fucking acting your age?”

  Her pointless insults slipped over him. He'd been hearing the same kind of nasty shit from her for years, they had absolutely no impact on him. His sister's words didn't hurt but her fingers certainly had the power to cause damage. “You put that down. It isn't yours.”

  She patted the side of the bed with her other hand. “Nice firm mattress you have. I think the next time I sneak my fella into the house, I'll let him take me on here instead of using mum and dad's bed. It'll probably be the only time ever anyone's going to have sex on this bed, you sad virgin.” His sister stood up, still holding the sensenet . “Look at you, telling your own sister what to do. It’s almost like you’ve suddenly grown a set. I guess that’s what happens when I take away your only girlfriend. By the way, what do you think mum what do if she found out you had this?” His sister tilted her head. “Have a fucking heart attack is my guess. I could sell it, I guess. Thanks to all your other virgin losers falling into comas, I bet these things are now worth a fortune.”

  Jordan no longer knew what to do. His bitch of a sister obviously had no intention of handing that over. That was obvious. He placed the food on the dresser next to him and held out his hand. “Please? Look, I didn’t tell our parents anything, I swear down it wasn’t me. Please, you have to believe me.”

  “Oh my God, I think you’re about to start weeping.”

  Jordan snatched his hand back when she jumped forward. The hate really did show in her eyes now. He reached for the door handle, wondering if it might be best to get away from her and come back later when she’d calmed down. He frantically listed all the items within arms reach that he might be able to throw at her. The only thing that might actually cause damage was his ancient games console. If he could at least daze the nasty bitch, it might even be possible to snatch the sensenet out of her hands before having to emigrate to Australia.

  His sister held the sensenet just out of his reach. She curled both hands around the thin device then pulled. A triumphant smile grew across her face when it snapped. She let go then casually brushed her palms together. “Now, how do we deal with the other problem? Namely, you being a thief and a snitch?”

  He heard the accusation but paid no attention, all his focus lay with ruined sensenet . What was he going to do now? She was right about the price. Even if he could, by some miracle, find somebody willing to sell theirs, the price would be astronomical. It also meant he’d have to start the game from scratch as he was sure that individual game saves were not transferable.

  “Shitbag. I asked you a question. I said, what am I going to do about the snitching?” His sister then slammed her foot on one half of his sensenet and ground it into the carpet. She glowered at him when he finally lifted his head. “I can’t stand a grass. Now, trashing your beloved techy shit should be enough but running to mummy isn’t the only thing you’ve done. You’ve been in my room, you little turd, and for that, I really am going to fucking hurt you.”

  “Bollocks!” Jordan saw red. How dare that bitch accuse him of going anywhere near her shitty room. “I haven’t been anywhere near your room. Get out of my bedroom before…”

  “Before, what?” she interrupted. “Before you go running off to mummy again? God, you are such a fat liar. I know you’ve been in my bedroom. There’s purple candle wax all over your fingers.”

  “What?” He turned his hands around and brought them closer to his face, despite already knowing what he’d see. His n
ose got there first. The sickly, sweet stink of lavender and vanilla had already buffeted his sense of smell. Purple and cream wax coated his fingertips. It looked like he’d dipped them into the fucking glass holders. What the fuck was going on? “I swear to you, I’ve been nowhere near your room. Apart from in the game but that doesn’t count, I…” His remaining words died on his lips.”

  “Oh, yeah. I really am going to hurt you,” she growled.

  “I’m still in the bastard game!” Jordan stood frozen to the spot. Transfixed at the sight of his sister’s fingers elongating. She threw back her head and howled. Her flesh tone lost all colour, and her jaw expanded as a new set of larger, sharper teeth grew up behind her old ones. His sister lowered her head. She narrowed her crimson eyes, lowered her body and snarled.

  He shrieked, spun around and flew out of the room. He ran along the hallway and down the stairs, fully aware that she was right behind him. Just one misjudged step would end him. That thing, that whatever it was, would shred his body. So he was still inside the game. So fucking what? Jordan had no doubts that he’d feel the agony as her claws ripped through his flesh. He reached the bottom, pulled open the door, slipped through and slammed it into her face. The howling, rage-filled scream which passed through the wood turned his blood into water. Her frustrated roar wouldn’t be the only thing to get through this thin wood if he didn’t get the hell out of here. How long would it last against that monster, a few seconds, a minute?

  Oh fuck, what was he going to do now? Jordan looked wildly around the kitchen, for anything to defend himself with. What was he thinking of? Like he’d even be able to kill, let alone stop that creature. What was he going to use, a fucking fish slice? He even considered just letting it in to finish him off. After all, this was only a game and games had rules. She'd kill him and he’d wake up, simple as.