Game Off

My opponent was already as good as dead; they just didn't know it. I carefully hid myself behind the skeletal remains of a building, years of practice blending into the shadows. This was the world now, after a thousand years of toil and destruction. At least, that was what I was told. But I never questioned it.

I could hear them creeping up behind me. I smirked to myself. Noob. If they had a gun or arrows, they should have just shot me, so they obviously had a short-range weapon. They also thought they were being super quiet and sneaky, but in this desolate world, their clanking and shuffling would kill them.

I carefully cocked my bow and loosened my knife in its sheath on my leg. I looked down on swords, clubs and guns because they were too noisy and crude. In this game, those who were silent lived the longest. Carefully, I turned around to face the noob. They were obviously male, with a long katana in need of sharpening. Obviously from a care package we sometimes found. I smirked at him, then loosed my arrow. It struck true. My arrow flew straight through his ribcage and out his back, thunking into a pole behind him. It stayed there, quivering. He fell to his knees and stared at me with a blank look before falling on the ground. I softly smiled, then pulled out a reed flute.

This part always confused others. If I killed them, why did I have to play a song commemorating their death? My answer was that if they died, at least they'd get some music on their way to the afterlife. This is why I was called Requiem. Song of the dead.

The flute played hauntingly, weaving a tale of the person that I had killed. A young one cut off in his prime. But he'd be back, albeit in a different form. My ritual completed, I stashed my flute away in my many packs. I sauntered over to my arrow and pulled it out of its resting post. Still straight, still true.

Suddenly, a harsh ringing sounded in my ear. I paused, then, groaning, pulled off my Chimera headset. I carefully detached myself from my Chimera game console, then grudgingly answered the call.

My friend, Nova, appeared in a holographic state about three feet in front of me. She squealed. "Req, you will not believe what's happening!!!"

I rubbed my face, temporarily moving my glasses from my eyes. Nova's hologram flickered out of existence before steadying as my glasses readjusted themselves. "What is it, Nov? This better be important. I was right in the middle of DeltaBlade!" She rolled her eyes.

"I still don't understand why you play that game, Req. It's boring and doesn't even have a plot line!" I rolled my eyes in return.

"I'm not going to even open that program, Nova. What's up? And it better be good," I groaned and glanced at the digital clock floating near Nova's hologram. 23:45. I had been gaming for almost twelve hours. A new record for me. But nowhere near as good as Marley Manson, the founder of DisPlay. He had gamed for almost four days straight. That was my dream too. But I had these annoying things called friends that always interrupted my gaming.

"You're going to have to come outside to find out, Req. Meet us by DisPlay HQ as fast as you can. Okay? Okay. See ya in another life!" Nova squealed, then her hologram flickered out. I groaned good naturedly before summoning my personal assistant, though he resented being called that. He flickered in front of me much like Nova had and crossed his arms.

"Holmes, we're heading out. Please send a message to my parents letting them know where I am," I said distractedly as I tried to make myself look like I hadn't spent twelve hours gaming. He sighed, then flashed, letting me know that he was done.

"You know, why can't you ever make me a real body?" he grumbled, I groaned.

"Holmes, we're not having this discussion again. I need my money in case Nova decides to splurge and go on a shopping trip with lunch at the Lotus. Again."