\"Writing.Com
*Magnify*
SPONSORED LINKS
Printed from https://writing.com/main/campfires/item_id/774589-Exodus-To-Sanity
Item Icon
Rated: 18+ · Campfire Creative · Novel · Sci-fi · #774589
Virtual Reality gaming has rose to be a world wide past time.. but corruption happened.
[Introduction]
Exodus to Sanity. I will include all the basic characters build right here in a few days.

------------------------------------

------------------------------------

Games are essential in the world. To solve war, they were substitued for the real thing. Virtual Reality games became the new fad. There is a new game out calling itself the 'Duelist's Dream'. A place where you can become a human character of any sorts. This is Virtual Reality fighting at its best. Not known to many though, the corporation has been performing many dastardly deeds to make this game and them rise to the top.

--------------------------------------------

This Campfire is a novel in the making and I apologize... it is only me and lyerstwine.
A Non-Existent User
@}~ Thump-thump-thump... Thump-thump-thump... Petite feet tread down hall, faster then the other’s. Harsh breath escapes the throat. Clear droplets stream down the face. Hair flows back in tresses of coppers and golds. Eyes glow with glory, the ocean-like beauties superbly bright.

The staircase is closing in... All most there... Thump-thump-thump... Thump-thump-thump... The other is right behind... Getting closer... Closer...

A scream is heard as an elbow is shoved into the ribs. The hips hit the banister, the wood splinters. The body falls to the floor below, broken of wind. The hand holding the side. The eyes begin to tear in their sorrow and rage. Blood streams from the mouth, as cough after cough spills crimson to the ground. The heart beats loudly in the ears, pounding louder and louder till silence reigns supreme. ~{@

~{@}~{@}~{@}~{@}~{@}~{@}~{@}~{@}~{@}~{@}~{@}~


“Huh-huh!!!” the girl gasped as she sat upright in her bed. Her cerulean eyes, strange as they were with little mahogany crosses that pierce the jade sunflower circles the draw attention to her eyes, wore signs of insomnia. Sweat drops drifted slowly down her arms, and face. Her chest heaved with her breath, the fire opal of sterling chain rocking among her collar bone.

Suddenly her head shook violently, looking around her, noticing the daylight. Her eyes came to a stop on the crimson numbers of her alarm clock on her vanity table. `11:32` It showed. “Oh my GOD! I’m late AGAIN!!!” She threw her bedspread aside showing herself in a really loose sky blue PJ top with white lining, and a pair of lacy white panties. She hurriedly dove into a tan ribbed turtle-neck sweater, and a black mini skirt. She nearly tripped when trying to slip into her black laced stiletto heels.

Grabbing the black purse under her bed, the one with her I.D. in it, she ran out the door. Jumping into her black four-door dodge pick-up. Indigo butterfly stickers, vent clips, mirror hangings, etc... decorated the pick-up from top to bottom. She jammed her butterfly shaped key into the ignition and turned briskly. The engine roared to life, and she speedily backed out of the driveway narrowly missing her mothers gay garden gnome.

Speeding down the highway, some thirty miles from her job, she looked in the rear view mirror. “Eek!” she stuttered. She fished in the glove compartment for her brush, and found her pink one, god she hated that color. She attacked her hair with the thing, making her hair tame and pretty once again. She tossed the brush back into the glove box and slammed it shut. She then fished in her purse for her make-up, swerving a little. She applied the blush, removing the signs of sleep depravation. She applied the lipstick, making her pale lips magenta.

“Stupid truckers!” she yelled as a semi nearly hit her when she turned out onto the highway. Down the highway she weaved in and out of the lanes, crossing over to faster lanes through every opening she could find. Finally she started over for the right most lane to catch her exit onto Reiley Street.

She came to a screeching halt in the parking lot at the mall. She ran as fast as she could in pin heels. Running quickly through the revolving doors and up the escalator, magnificently avoiding capture of her heels in the cracks. She ran left, running into Bloomingdale’s, she halted to a brisk stop at her employers feet. “Exactly twenty minutes late... Now.” “I’m sorry! I’m so sorry!” she exclaimed. “Too late this time Kendrix, your fired.” Shock flashed across her face. “F-fired?” she stuttered to herself.

Slowly she turned, shoulders drooping in failure. She walked out the front doors into the main hall of the mall. There she bumped into a man. “Hey watch it bitch!” he yelled. “Wha..!?” she started but was startled by the sight of this guy holding a girls arms across her chest. “Get off me Harrison!” she pleaded, he just laughed.

“Hey leave her alone!” Kendrix yelled at the man. He let go of the girl. “What, you want some?” he laughed. He threw a fist at her face, but she dodged it. “Wha..!?” he broke off, she had kicked him firmly across the face with a swift roundhouse slicing his cheek open with her pin heel. As if in slow motion he fell back into the rail. Slowly still, he fell back over it, the girl he had been messing with running to grab him. “Harrison!”

@}~

“He fell from the second floor banister after a conflict with a young woman.” the officers talked about the situation with Kendrix and the other girl who identified herself as Makato Miyu, along with a few other witnesses. The guy that the girl had called Harrison, had fallen head first to the lower floor. He fell on the back of his neck breaking his spine. They don’t know if he’ll be paralyzed for life or if it is just temporary, but for now he can’t even lift his pinky. The paramedics carefully placed him on a gurney and wheeled him out through the emergency exit. Makato jumped into the ambulance with him. “I guess I was wrong...” Kendrix said to herself.

A door opened and light shined into an apartment hallway. A dark figure silohoutted the doorway and flipped on the light switch. Stev walked, drunkenly, down the hallway. Up ahead was the living room but just before that was the bathroom. He turned into it and lifted the lid to the toilet and retched.

After he lifted his head, he tried to forget the visions of flesh devouring zombies, masked headsmen with blood axes and various other players dying gruesome deaths all around him.

He pushed himself upright and using the counter as support, he walked over to the sink nearest the door. Pausing, he flipped on the light switch and the fan. He recoiled bacward, shielding his eyes from the light and heard the exhaust fan activate, drawing the smell of fresh vomit upwards. Turning a faucet on, he bent down and proceed to rinse the ghastly taste out of his mouth. He stopped, rose up and grabbed a hand towel. Patting himeself dry, he voiced a command "Flush toilet". The noise of the toilet flushing the contents into the sewers was all that Stev needed to know. He folded the towel, dropped it back on the counter, and flicked off the lights before walking out.

Walking into the living room, he noticed an extremely large package with the Square Corp's logo upon it. They had sent him the new virtual reality machine with a letter attached on the outside. He ripped the letter down and opened it, almost ripping the envelope. Scanning over the letter, the words "hospital examination" "implants" "large lump sum of money" jumped out at him before he crumpled it into a ball to put in the trash recycler. Sometimes, photographic memory had its uses when applied to documents.. sometimes it didn't.. when it applied to graphic horror games.

"I am needing extra money anyways...." he muttered thinking, 'a biochip implant to access the game for free? what could happen?'

"Computer, send acknowledgement to Square Corp about game testing and medical procedures." Stev commanded.

A female voice responded monotonously, "Yes sir. Square asks you in for surgery tommorrow night at 6 p.m."

"Done." Stev commented. The horrible images from Real Videas horror game was still in his mind. He went into the bathroom and grabbed a pill bottle of Valium and took one.

"Enable Intruder Alarms" he commanded. He hoped that his cyber duel with the American champion, Harisson, tommorrow at noon was going to be eventful. He lay on the futon couch as the sleep embraced him.

"Goodnight Sir" the female voice of the computer spoke again, dulling the lights and activating the alarms, "Sleep well."
A Non-Existent User

Days past since the “incident.” She just stayed in bed, sleeping off the guilt. She didn’t go up to her classes at the university, she barely even got up to eat, she just felt so bad. “How could I be so rash!?” she screamed at herself. “I guess I was... I don’t know what...

She finally got up, stopping to take a shower in the bathroom. Draping a towel around herself, she went out to check the mail at her door. The air was brisk, she shivered when she walked out. She nearly tripped over all the crap. There were two boxes and a ton of letters.

When she finally dragged everything in she went and got dressed. She slowly slipped into the same ribbed turtleneck sweater that she had wore that day, and then slipped into a pair of black slacks. She went into the living room, where she had left all the mail, and sat at the couch. Her roommates were still out. Three of the letters were for Jessica, one was for Winifred, and the small package was for Lisa. But there were seven letters for her and the large package.

She picked up the letters and began to read the return addresses:

Siero Attorney at Law
Herio Hospital
Makato Miyu
Makato Miyu
Siero Attorney at Law
Makato Miyu
Yuri Kithkin

She opened and read the letters from Makato, they were horrible, calling her names, and how Harrison will never be the same. The letter from her mother Yuri was sweet, inviting her home for Thanksgiving. The Herio Hospital had sent her a letter telling her all the things that she would have to pay for... So many things... The Siero Attorney at Law... Letters requesting audience with her, to discuss the incident.

She dropped them all on the coffee table, and looked to the package. She pulled it to her, and ripped the tape off, she barely noticed the return address on the side, Merodach Industries. She dug through the packing materials, and came upon a red velvet box, nothing else in the huge package. She placed the small red box on her lap. She searched for the open latch. She opened it slowly, uncertain of what she would find.

A card. A small black card, with little blue strips on the lower right corner. “What is this?” She looked at the box, noticing a letter attached to on of the lid flaps. She ripped it off and tore it open. She unfolded the letter, and read:

@}~

Dear Mrs. Kithkin,


We saw how you handled yourself in combat with our past champion duelist Harrison Lucca, and have decide to send you his invitation to our “Duelist Dream,” as since his incapacitation as of late. We would appreciate your arrival at Merodach Industries H.Q. at the following address on Friday the sixteenth of November. We assure you what you hear will be worth listening to.


@}~

Lightly scanning the address at the bottom of the letter she wondered what it was that they intended to speak to her about.
Stev was walking down a hallway and opened a door at the end of the hallway. BOOM! There was the feeling of intense pain and then nothing.

(~@~)

Opening his eyes, he looked about the living room. Cold sweat drenched him. Rolling off the couch, he landed with a soft thud on the floor. The shower was already running. Sighing, he wondered if the program for his home could actually mess up. Walking through the house, he undressed himself. The shower was at the perfect temperature for him.

"Computer, schedule please" he called.

"Hospital visit for the experimental game, Groceries, Bills, Taxes." came the reply.

Groaning, he stepped out of the shower and began to dry himself off. The game needed some surgery done. Wincing, he felt the back of his neck. The implant on the back of the neck was a permanent thing for Everquest. Now it became another tool for him in finding ways through security systems, the internet, and the code of any program now. Dressing himself in a white turtleneck and tan slacks, he searched for his white woolen socks and his army boots. Finding both, he donned them and began to walk out the door.

"Computer, please activate the defense grid and in case of shutdown of the power grid, use the generator."

The lights turned themselves down to a low level and all the electronics shut themselves off and the cameras activated themselves. Examining the area, Stev nodded in satisfaction and closed the door. The number pad on the outside waited for him to press the lock button. Which he did. The code was easy to remember. He began his long trek across the city to the hospital.

(~@~)

A couple hours later

The private lobby in All Saints Hospital only had one figure in it. The beige carpets and the eight ottomans were the only other things in it. There was no windows. Stev was waiting patiently, twirling a set of keys. A doctor in a
white lab coat strode into the room.

"Stev?" he asked. Rising, Stev went to shake hands with the doctor. "You must have been impatient with the long wait. There was a couple other subjects that were having difficult decisions about the two processes."

"Processes?" queried Stev.

"Yes, there are many mutiple processes that allow you to be jacked into the game." the doctor's reply came.

"Oh, but I fail to see the reason for the difficult decisions."

"It is the same as it was with Everquest. You chose the implant on your neck which was a higher risk to your health but acquired in the game a higher level character. Follow me, please. " The doctor walked toward the only door in
the room and opened it. All Stev could do is follow. They went down a labrynth of hallways with other people in surgery, liquid tanks, or in a machine. All of them were asleep, of course.

"As you see the game has already started for some of the gametesters. They are going through minor tests allowing the characters to level up, as gamers would say. Into the office on your left, please." The doctor requested. The door to the office came up, Stev reached for the knob and turned it. Both of them entered the office and sat down.

"What are you needing of me?" Stev asked, clasping his hands together.

"There are many different choices to make in allowing you to make your character. We need to know what you would like to do though. First choice, is a simple pill that allows you to get in the liquid tanks and become a reciever to the waves. Second is surgery or in your case, a slight modification to the chip that allows you to jack into the Everquest game. There are other things.. but these two are the specific things done. There is a third.. which involves a surgery that grafts a computer operated system onto your nervous system. "

Thinking about it for a few minutes, Stev said "Can we do a modification to the chip and the nervous system?"

Nodding, the doctor asked "When would you like to do this?"

"Today"

"Let's start immediately."
A Non-Existent User

She walked up to the massive doors of the Merodach Industries H.Q. The building was huge, scraping the cloudy sky above.

She walked in and was imediately escourted to the elevators. "This way miss," and "Come along"s.

She was nearly shoved into a grand office...

"Miss Kithkin," a voice called, a chair from beyond the grand wooden desk spun around. "Please, have a seat." he motioned to ared leather chair.

"Umm... You wanted to speak with me?" "Yes I did indeed Miss Kithkin. You see, that man you injured was a participant in a virtual competion we are soon to be holding." She looked on in puzzelment.

"I see..." "Please Miss, don't be so quaint. We would like you to take his place in the tournament." "WHAT!" "Well you did defeat him and he was our champion."

Kendrix opened her mouth to protest but was cut off, "And the fact that if we wished we could sue you so severly that your greatest of grand children would be working for us for free." the man said in horrid seriousness.

"I don't really have a choice then do I?" "Oh you have a choice, a good life or a bad one..."

"I'll cooperate..."

"Excellent..."
Laying on a hospital bed, Stev picked at the paper hospital gown. Doctors moved him down the hallway to the operation room. All he could do was make wisecracks about the hospital system.

"Why do they call this a gown? We are going to a ball!" Gales of laughter issued from all around him. Grinning, Stev thought of another one but it was too late, they had entered into the operation room.

"All right, our little test subject, " the female nurse grinned and showed him the mask, "Time to suck in some gas and count to yourself."

Stev did just that. "1, 2, 3, 4, ooh... look at the pretty little lambs." A snore came from his mouth and the doctors gazed at him.

"Is he out?" one asked to another. Someone shook the table and then shook him. A gentle snore issued from him again. "Set up the infusion and all the other items needing to be done. Just hope our generous benefactors are paying us enough to do this." A blood infusion and a green fluid infusion was set up.

"Good. Now let us get him wired up."

A few hours past and the doctors were tired. The operation neared completion.

"We are done. Put the patient in the room with the other one who is to share the same procedure."
A Non-Existent User
Kill this already..................
........................................
........................................
........................................
........................................
........................................
........................................
........................................
........................................
........................................
..............................

© Copyright 2003 xx-xx, Stevs Black Rose, (known as GROUP).
All rights reserved.
GROUP has granted Writing.Com, its affiliates and its syndicates non-exclusive rights to display this work.
Printed from https://writing.com/main/campfires/item_id/774589-Exodus-To-Sanity