The Wolf's Eye: A Series of Short Horror Stories

Virtual Reality

I approached the dark, gray space that I knew as my own virtual world. My virtual reality, my home away from home. I could see his dark figure standing on the ledge, looking out at the many tilted buildings spread out across the land.

"Hey," I called. "It's been a while, huh?"

For a while, he didn't answer me. I thought maybe he didn't hear me, and so I opened my mouth to repeat it. Just then, he began to speak.

"A while?" he chuckled. "Well, maybe to you. But for me, it's only been mere moments."

"Well...maybe. I mean, I don't even remember the last time I came here."

"Huh...I guess you never really can remember. Time isn't exactly an existing measurement here."

"I guess that's true...but still, I want to know. What is your name?"

At that moment, he turned to me with a smile. And somehow, that smile sparked some kind of flashback. Something about it brought about a specific memory of him that gave hint to who he might be.

And he simply said, "come back again. And maybe you'll remember..."

He was gone in an instant, and I found myself surrounded by the true reality I never wanted to see. I laid back in my bed, sighing as I looked up at the ceiling. What was his name? It felt as though it was on the tip of my tongue, but I couldn't think of anything. I knew I'd seen him quite a few times before; he was always in my virtual reality, right from the beginning. He told me his name that first time, and I had kept it in my head up until the fifth time. And ever since then, I can't remember his name. No matter how hard I try, nothing comes to me.

The days are always so hazy. Every time I go outside, every time I face the sun, I can just feel my head get lighter and lighter. I prefer to stay inside. The outside world and I don't mix well.

In November, everything seemed normal. The city was bustling, almost as if it was alive.

In December, things weren't so mellow.

In December, sixty percent of the city died.

There were so many different factors, all of which scared me. Some died from homicides and suicides. Others died from car crashes and plane crashes. And then a few died from a severe storm that passed through here.

And when I went back to my virtual world, back to that boy, I noticed things were different.

He wasn't alone.

Besides him, there were several people scattered across the land. None of it made sense. This was in my mind. It wasn't real. So why were there people here?

"So, you came back after all," he said, turning to me. "Have you remembered yet?"

Not even close.

"Hey," I said, "what's going on? Why are there people here?"

"You don't know? Well, you haven't really been outside much. But you must have heard about all the stuff that's been happening lately. Over half the population is dead. You know why, don't you? Consider the cause. Think about all the factors that have caused so many to die. The world is hostile, my friend. And so, I've given people a place to seek refuge. Reality will die. But the people here will live on in a...virtual sort of reality."

"I still don't get it...I conjured up this place in my mind. It's my place. So how are there people here?"

He simply grinned at me. "It may be something you created," he said, "but I never said it wasn't real."

I froze.

"This isn't just your place. It's mine, too. And you know what that means? That means I can do whatever I want with it."

I could see that his smile was growing more and more sinister. And I didn't like it.

"Even if it means destroying the real world in order to expand this one."

I shook, backing away from him. "Tell me," I stuttered. "Who are you?"

"So, you really don't remember after all. Well, maybe I can give you a hint. You aren't the only one that hates humanity. I hate it, too. That's why you and I created this place. We created the virtual reality in order to escape from the real world's horrors. Isn't that right?"

Through those words, a single memory came flooding back to me. This place was real after all. And it wasn't just my creation. This guy appeared randomly in this world, stayed here with me as if to keep me company. I created this place to distract myself from the negativity of the outside world. I suppose he and I shared the same thoughts. We hated the real world, so we created our own. A virtual reality.

I looked back up at him. "I know you," I said. "I know you well."

And he looked at me. "So, you do remember, then."

I took a deep breath. "But I still don't know your name. I don't know your name, because you never told me."

He merely laughed at me. "Oh, that's true! I really didn't tell you my name, did I? Well, then. I suppose I'll tell you."

The space surrounding us grew darker and darker, and chills went up my spine. He smiled widely, dementedly, as if his face was slowly beginning to change.

And he said, "I'm Lucifer."

And then it all made sense.

I created this world to ignore reality. I couldn't have cared less if the real world was slowly being taken apart. As long as I had this world, the real world didn't matter. He took advantage of that and chose to turn my personal little world into a place for those who refused to submit to the negativity of reality. The entire time, he was destroying reality in order to build and expand the virtual one.

"So, you understand, now," he said. "The world can die out. But we'll still have our virtual reality. Isn't that what you wanted? You said to me that you hated reality. Isn't that why we're here now?"

He wasn't wrong. But still, he was the literal embodiment of hatred. There was no way I could just go along with him.

But then again, there was nothing left in the real world for me to cling to. My virtual reality was all I had left.

It was my place, and a place for others who felt the way I did. Violated by the negativity of reality. Left in recluse. Suffering from violence and disaster. My virtual reality took me away from that. Our virtual reality. Our home away from a destroyed, abandoned, disturbing home.

The whole world could die, and we'd still just have our own little world.