Short Story

Death Plays Video Games to Pass the Time

It looked like a bird cage, golden in color, but I knew better. Wall to ceiling bookshelves held places and timelines, both real and fake. I felt like I could go anywhere. I had a cuff and chain on my ankle though. The door was always locked. I couldn't leave.

It was beauty and pain. An inverted rose bush made more to hurt than help. At first glance, it just looks like a bush. As you get closer, you begin to feel the thorns. Three inches long and looking for blood. The roses, so vibrant in color, grow behind their knives. They protect their own.

It actually was a crater surrounded by nothing. Volcanic rock stretches as far as the eye can see in every direction. There is a jungle flourishing inside. An open field of grass in the middle. However, there is a maze. High hedge walls. Red brick dead ends. All of this to reach a glass dome. Hit it. Yell at it. Scream to be let in. I won't let you in.

This is my custom game. Vita gave it to me. She's giving, but not always forgiving. Her brother Mortem, on the other hand, is friendly and plays my game with me. He has cheat codes and knows secrets. He tells me that Vita wants me to play fair, so I can be around longer. Mortem also tells me that no matter where I go, or for how long, he'll always wait for me. He'll be there when I come home.