Video Games

Chapter Three

It doesn't surprise me how many stormtrooper men are surrounding the room, eyeing everything up and down as if each object could be a bomb that may diffuse at any given second. Their black outfits, shadow like, must intimidate the younger kids entering the room - I see one little boy begin to quake.

This isn't fair. Not a single one of us deserve to be here.

"Now," a voice booms; the same man from the screen earlier begins to talk yet again. "As you all know, we chose you lot for a reason, and we want you guys to work it out. If you think you've worked out the reason that you thirty were selected, ring a buzzer and someone will come along. If you're correct, you'll receive a little gift, something to aid you in your quest."

Other than all thirty of us having an obsession with video games, what do we have in common?

"Anyway," he continues, chuckling slightly. "The task. Here, thirty cubicles await you, set up with the Minecraft like building game for you to build your shelters. Some items will not be available for you to access, others may have a limit. Remember not to go overboard with what you build - time is money, and money will buy you crops so you can survive the basic nights you'll be living."

I don't know about you, but these games appear to be anything but basic.

My guard nudges my shoulder, causing me to twitch under the poke of his elbow - I assume. Turning to him, I see him point to a computer space, with walls between itself and the next terminal, blocking it off from the others. I think they call it a cubicle, but don't hold me to that. Just because I understand video games, it doesn't mean my general knowledge is up to speed.

It turns out that mine is very near the end; I'm computer twenty seven. Sitting down at the desk, I let myself sink into the leather chair accompanied with it - divine furniture like this just makes me question where they get the money from. The government? The richest man or woman in the world?

Suddenly, a large crackle is heard from above, causing me to look around. One girl behind me groans as the intercom sends a shrill squeaking sound through the air, piercing at our eardrums. I see Dexio being seated at his terminal; I guess he's at computer number eighteen, judging by the way they're lined up - he's two up and one to the right of me.

"Good afternoon, ladies and gentleman of the world!" A voice echoes, a lot chirpier than the organiser's voice. Wait, of the world? What the hell does that mean? "Welcome to the very first Video Games contest! We can't wait for you to see these thirty courageous volunteers fight their way to victory!"

Courageous volunteers? More like kidnapped victims. We're gonna lose any sanity we have by participating in these games. Then a thought enters my mind: why would they be advertising this? This just raises suspicion as to why thirty random kids disappeared from their towns, arrived in some deserted placed named Okunoshima to brawl it out.

"This is the building phase," the man's voice booms, a happy tone lingering within the man's speech. "The competitors have half an hour to build their homes on this Minecraft based software. Their designs shall be scanned onto the land they'll live on, ready for their first night of the games."

More like the first night of chaos. These people are callous, disgusting. Entwining my fingers in my jacket, I wait for the signal to start building. Half an hour is nothing; I know that from my speed run of Spyro the Dragon, where I currently sit at fourth in the world. I'm actually in contact with the world record holder. His name is Arezou and he lives around the Glasgow area; he's originally French born.

Turning on the computer, I stare at all the loading screens, blue, black, an alternate of the two colours as the pages load and switch. Part of me finds it creepy when it has my name plastered on the screen, a welcome message awaiting me. Of course it's programmed, but that doesn't ease the feeling of hesitation I've developed.