high score ✩ muke

0.1 - goddamn iceland

one; goddamn iceland

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michael was practically boiling, green eyes busy staring at the screen in front of him.

though he knew he had school tomorrow, the arcade was only an eight minute walk from his house. and yes, he had timed it once.

the words "game over" blinked in red on the screen, irritating michael almost more than the time his mother took away his gaming console for failing math freshman year. almost.

as you can see, michael gordon clifford was the kind of introverted teen who shut himself in his room for countless hours, playing video games until the sun leaked through his blinds.

it's not that michael clifford had no friends, cause he did. he had two best friends, actually. however, ashton and calum never really appreciated his video game playing, which michael considered an art.

and maybe michael just liked being alone.

ashton and calum seemed to respect michael enough to leave him alone when he didn't want company. but michael still wondered why his friends were superglued to him in the first place. he tended to think of himself as uninteresting. he was just a typical nerd, nothing special there.

obviously mr. and mrs. clifford had their hypotheses about their son. they had crammed numerous medical prescriptions down michael's throat over the years, claiming they would help him. "fix him," they said. but it's tremendously ironic how antidepressants can just make you more depressed.

michael was not depressed. or at least, he didn't think he was. more than anything, he just didn't have much tolerance towards many people. but this was just michael's way of seeing it.

furiously, michael pressed the restart button on the side of the machine. immersed in his seventh round of infection 2: bio war simulation, his cell phone began to vibrate in his pocket.

with a long sigh and a heavy heart, he paused his precious game and answered. "yeah?" he asked in annoyance.

"michael, where are you? it's eleven o'clock!" his mother's tinny voice poured from the receiver. michael practically jumped out of his own skin and immediately regretted picking up the phone.

"i know, mum, i'm coming home," he lied through his teeth. the truth was that michael had no idea whatsoever of the time, and wasn't going home until he broke his personal record. "don't wait up," he added quickly before ending the call, returning the phone to his pocket.

sometimes he seriously hated his mother. and this was one of those times.

thirty minutes later, michael was sweating. literally. his epidemic, which he creatively named "jane" after his mother, had infected and killed practically the whole world, apart from fucking iceland, and the hospitals had almost completed making a cure. he always always lost to iceland, and this time he was determined to win.

using most of his remaining DNA points, he bought every transmission he could buy, making jane as contagious as possible. the cure was 99% complete.

in a desperate attempt to destroy iceland, michael hastily spent his last 17 DNA points for obfuscating genes, increasing the work needed by doctors to cure jane. the percentage rate decreased to 86%.

michael turned away for a split second to raise his fists in the air as a sign of victory. however, the moment didn't last long. he still had a country to annihilate.

with jane's contagion level so dangerously high, it wasn't long before iceland succumbed to the disease. michael watched with pure triumph as everyone died.

a message lit up on the screen. "congratulations! you have killed every human being on earth!"

tears of conquest fell from michael's eyes, who had to cover his own mouth to avoid screaming. he did a weird victory dance, consisting of pumping fists and kicking his legs around. "fuck you, iceland!" michael yelled at the game, earning strange looks from those around him. but he was too happy to give a damn.

michael's name appeared on the screen, next to this new and beautiful record of 317. he was at the top of the list. although, one score was not very far behind.

directly under michael's name was hemmo1996, in second place with a score of 316. michael felt his eyes narrow. this 'hemmo1996' was too close for comfort.

michael would have to come back tomorrow to make sure he was still in first place.