Playing Hard to Kill

THE GAME

Run, was the solitary thought jolting through my mind as I awoke, a .22 colt revolver in hand. As far as I could see, there were four bodies lying on the ground beside me; motionless bodies.

Crap, the police are coming. I leapt up, tense, as I heard the click-clack of leather boots echoing on the tile floor outside this room.

The doorknob turned, and a man with a gold wristwatch and an orange tweed suit strolled inside.

"WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE?" he shrieked.

There was no time to lose. I, Quinn Tierney, sprinted past him, knocking a pile of documents askew. An adrenaline rush pushed me forward and out the doors of Cooper Union College. Why the heck am I holding a gun in my hand?

***

THE DREAM

BANG! BANG! BANG! A thirty-something-year-old man entered the history classroom. He had a brown mop of hair, grimy fingernails, and was brandishing an AK-47; a line of students, his students, in front of him.

"You know why I'm here," he grinned, "to punish the person who hacked into my computer." I gulped. That would be me, and I wasn't even in the line. I was squatting in the bushes outside the open window, my jean pocket bulging with a gun; the same one I had last night.

"NOW WHO THE HECK DID IT?" he thundered, making eye contact with a girl who was shivering. Her name was Annika. "You cold?" the teacher taunted, "'Cause I think I'm getting warmer . . ."

Everything happened in the blink of an eye. Annika stepped forward out of fear, three of her friends backing her up.

POW! POW! BANG! POW!

As the four were shot down, there was utter pandemonium. The rest of the students scrambled to safety: which meant desks were upturned and chairs and textbooks knocked down. I slid through the large window in an attempt to assist Annika, my childhood crush, who was currently bleeding to death from a bullet wound to the head. The last thing I remember, as my feet left tracks on the blood-stained floor, was being hit in the head with the barrel of a gun. Plus 400 Life Points. Level One Complete.

THE REALITY

And then I actually awoke, sweat dripping down my forehead. The re-occurring dream was haunting me. Two weeks ago, I hacked into my history teacher's computer and have been playing a videogame on it ever since. The game consists of a teacher and a classroom of twenty-four students. The students sit in desks while the teacher shoots them down with his AK-47 until there are only four left. Then the points increase and the game ends once those four are dead as well. I'd forgotten about the whole situation until now. Today, September 10th, was the start of a new school year. According to my schedule, I would be taking an Egyptian Artifacts class with Mr. Gregory Scott who should be thrown in jail for having those games. This class would be nothing but pure horror, thanks to my dream. Annika's voice seemed to appear in my head.

"Don't worry, I'll be with you," she said. Gosh now I'm hearing voices as well? So much for the normal life I wanted. I'm screwed, I thought. I plundered out of bed and the mattress springs creaked. Need to fix those, I reminded myself. Oh boy, another day of college, I sighed, tossing on a t-shirt and sweatpants from my drawer. In another hour I would be sitting directly in front of Mr. Scott's desk. 'Never turn your back on your enemies,' my mother would always say. On the days that she was actually home. My mother had been diagnosed with lung cancer eight years ago, a month before her death. But what can you do when you know you only have a month left to live?

"I swear, that dream could have been real," I said aloud as one of my roommates, Bruno Constantin, walked into our bedroom.

"Yo dude, wassup?" he said. We shared a quick fist pump, as usual, and headed down to the kitchen. As he clomped down the stairs, I clung onto the rail in fear that something bad would happen today. What if Annika were there? Dead or alive, I didn't really wanna talk to her.