That nauseating red message flashed about in my VR headset, reminding me how much I "loved" my husband. I cursed. How could I not when my husband's habit of turning off the internet router had become more invasive than a smoker's secondhand smoke?
"Honey… I've been calling you for how long now?" as I slipped the VR headset off, a tall-ish, somewhat chubby, 24-year-old man greeted my strained eyes. And even with only seeing his silhouette in front of the game room's door, it was clear as day. He was anything but unagitated, and for what reason? I'd only been what? Ten minutes late?
"Dinner's been ready for over an hour… and you've been stuck in that fake world all day!" "You game all the time, too! Are you even hearing yourse-"
"Playing on a PS8 is not the same as sticking your head in a virtual reality for days! Serenity literally warns you not to do that! Why don't yo-"
"Why don't I what? Why don't you get off my ass already!?" My hand, as if controlled by rage, slammed the headset on the small desk near the couch. As old as it was, the tech sure held up to a fair share of abuse. Well, it was custom made for me, anyway.
"Wh- whatever. Dinner's ready…" He shuffled out of our game room, letting the door lightly swing in behind him.
"Not like you let me get on your ass to get off it,anyway… women are so…" he mumbled under his breath, stumbling down the staircase and into our, sorry, his kitchen, probably to spit in my food. You'd think I'm exaggerating here, but I've seen him go that far in the restaurant he worked in. At this point I guess you'd be wondering why I married him or if I even loved him…
"I hate you…" under the cover of the game room's humming darkness, the song of my heavy breathing, and the squeaking and clicking of my shutting the door behind me, I couldn't help but let my heartache loose as I made my way towards the dining room.
"…"
"..."
If not for the sound of our chewing and the occasional hesitant gulping, one would surely have thought they'd gone deaf in our dining room.
"…"
"…..It's good. What's the occasion?" He clearly hadn't made such amazing curry himself. I mean, he worked in a restaurant, but he's no grade A chef. His role was being a grade A-sshole, or well, I think it's called being a manager.
"Glad you like it. And yes, I made it myself."
"No way! It's so… good.." Curse that uncontrollable excitement of mine!
"Yeah… well, I figured since I'm finally getting some time off, I'd do some cooking. And well, curry is your favorite food… so…"
Wait, was he being… considerate? The same husband who's always been too busy to talk with me, or go out, was cooking? And my favorite food? And GOOD food, at that? I must have still been in Serenity. Serenity… I missed the game already. My girlfriend, the atmosphere, freedom and… the food. But credit where credit's due; the rice, dhal and curried chicken he cooked up just about topped the doubles Underworldquen04 and I had in Serenity earlier that night. Speaking of Unerwordqueen04, my train of thought threaded on to if she'd have panicked because of my sudden disconnection. Was she waiting for me to come back online? I wondered if she was mad about the gift I got her. Probably not. She was the most ge-
"ything?"
"What was that?""I'm heading to bed. Do you need anything?"
"Oh, no. I'll pack the food."
"Already packed. By the way, do you wanna, uh…"
"Hmm?"
"Nevermind. Sleep well, whenever you do." he slouched up the staircase, having given up on asking what we both knew he wanted to ask... we both knew what I'd say.
After dinner, I'd usually bury my face in a book while relaxing in our yard for a couple of minutes, but for most of 2032, crime rates have gone up over thirty percent. Sure, everyone has cameras and alarms, but hackers bypass those with little to no effort; and with everyone wired up to Serenity, the neighborhood watch wouldn't exactly be on the clock. Now, if I were playing Serenity, this wouldn't have been an issue; devs digitally stored the entirety of thousands of books in the game's library, and go figure, "T.I.S Trapped in school", my latest read, was no exception. But "Mr. Chef" would cook up a storm whenever he saw me online past midnight, even if reading was on the agenda; but let's be real… I'd have been spending the night with my girlfriend, Underworldquene04.
On my way up the staircase and through the carpeted hall, my eyes couldn't help but glance towards the game room I'd just passed. Not that temptation's call to wire up to Serenity had finally gotten to me…
"Did someone… leave the door open?"my heart slipped.
With the sound of a hippopotamus's snoring coming from the darkness of our room, there was no doubt "Mr. chef" had been asleep. And I'd never EVER leave the game room's door open. Had someone… broken into our house? A trickle of sweat crept down the corner of my neck, doing a horrible job of hiding from my vigilant nerves, as a slow, pulsating red light seeped out from the door's crack, like blood gushing from an open wound; lighting up the dark hallway in crimson, gradually matching the pace of my restless heart.
Creeeeaaaaaaakkkk!
Grabbing the nearest weapon- uh.. a cushion, I slowly pressed the door open, just enough to peek inside. The sweat trudging down my neck clearly paid no mind to being subtle at that point. Suddenly, I dropped my heart as the shadow of a massively overweight man with a- wait. Oh… Suddenly, I picked up my heart and dropped my weapon, or well, cushion, as the shadow of the game room's couch danced in rhythm with the pulsating red light emitting from my VR headset.
"Damn it! I know I turned you off…" But the pulsating light of a notification claimed otherwise; though, with the sudden burst of relief and sleep on the line, I didn't have the luxury of checking what the notification said, then. And so, I definitely switched off the headset and shut the door before making my way to bed.
"Was dinner with your husband as tragic as I'd imagine?" Underworldqueen04, my girlfriend, asked as her eyes effortlessly swallowed mine. Well, considering the rest of her nude, digitalized, in-game body remained covered by the silky white digital sheets in our in-game house, my eyes had little else to run to. The warmth of her body resting upon my own… her usual aroma of fruit, and the soothing rhythm of her chest against mine… all made up a dream to be lost in. But for once, my mind was anything but lost on her…
"Wha- what did you… say?"
"Dinner? With your annoying husband? Was it worth leaving me allllll alone yesterday?"
It couldn't be.
"Oh! My wife! Haha. Yeah, it was just as bad as you thi-"
"No. Your husssband, silly! I know. I've always known. But it's all good." She crawled atop my paralyzed body in a manner I could only describe as… snake-like. Wrapping her arms around my torso, breathing along my neck, her once pleasantly soft breaths, now anxiety-invoking. No, she couldn't have known. She couldn't have known I had a husband…or… that I'm… a woman. No… No..
"No! Get o-" Her grip tightened, constricting my torso, while her tongue gently flickered along the side of my neck, making its way towards my face. Her damning whispers crawling their way into my ear all the while.
"I know. I know. I've always known. I knowwwwww. I know! IKNOW IKNOW I KNWO IWKNO IKNOW I KNOW IIIII KNOWWWWW I KNOW IKNOW"
BANG!!
Suddenly, at the height of her constricting, yells and shrieks; a tall, dark-skinned man dressed up in an all black trench coat with shades, barged in through our bedroom door, breaking it off of its hinges.
"AAAAAGGHHH!!! What the fu-" I couldn't help but scream out.
"CATCH IT NOW ON ALL PLATFORMS!!! THE RED PILLLLLLL?!! NOPEEE. BLUE PILL? HELLLLL NO!" the shady man strained his vocal cords.
"Well, is there a black pill, then?" my lips, gaining a mind of their own, asked the man.
"FUNNY YOU SHOULD ASK!! WHY YES! YES THERE IS!! CHECK IT OUT NOW ON ALL PLATFORMS! THE 'IS THERE A BLACK PILL?' PODCAST. FREE! FREE!!! FREE!! ALIENS, DEMONS like your girlfriend over there-" He pointed at Underworldqueen04, who'd been in the process of constricting me, seemingly with intent to kill.
"-AND ANGELS! THIS PODCAST HAS IT ALL! CHECK IT OUT WHEN YOU WA-" Again. What the…fu-
c… Huh? Oh… A dream. Of course it was. Of course, there was no way she'd have… she'd… I couldn't remember. Those damned shameless ads had a reputation for being more obnoxious at the height of nightmares, making it much more difficult to remember them.
Sweat streamed down my neck, journeying past the canyon between my breasts, and down my stomach, bringing my mind to consider if, with all the sweating lately, I'd sprouted a leak. But it wasn't anxiety this time, or even the fear of a nightmare, drenching my clothes. There was no dream to remember, with those ads invading my sleep and all. The sweat just served as a reminder of how unbearably hot the world had gotten. Thanks to our not-so-distant ancestors, or so they say. Breathe… Just breathe. And when the breathing techniques didn't quench the pulsating headache that obnoxious ad had gifted me, I peered to my left before unlocking my omniscient phone. "Mr. Chef" still snored away, like a rooster giving its morning call. Desperately scrolling through the apps with one hand and pinching my throbbing head with the other, I finally found it. The Waiter fridge app, which would let you know what your linked fridge has in it, only to send a small android with your requested beverage over to your O-phone's location, within reason, of course. And luckily, we had the exact prescription for a headache. In a couple of minutes, the two-feet tall android forced its squeaky joints into our room, offered me the medication vodka and took its leave as quietly as its oil-demanding joints would tolerate. Not that it needed to worry about waking anyone with the snoring of a hippo already erupting the room. Honestly, no one could have convinced me of atheism when the clear miracle of anyone sleeping through that easily proved otherwise.
The rum didn't clear up the headache problem, and may have actually made the heat more prominent. But, breakfast? As good as any other, so check. Sleeping husband? Even as I stepped halfway into the darkness of the game room, I could easily make out his-
"Snorrrrrrrrrrr! Cough! Cough! Snorrrr!"
So yes, a resounding check. Shower? I wouldn't pass that up, so I swore up and down to myself the second I wired into Serenity, I'd have taken an in-game shower. Check.
"Again?! I'm sure I turned you off last night. You really must be aging up on me." And as if responding in Morse code to my concerns, the VR headset, no larger than a construction worker's helmet, flared its red blinking light.
After hopping on the couch and covering up with the sensation blanket used to help you feel in-game moments, I fitted the VR helmet onto my head of unattended hair.
"DO NOT USE THIS DEVICE WITHIN TWO HOURS OF WAKING UP, OR IF YOU ARE TIRED. DO NOT USE IF YOU ARE INTOXICATED, STRESSED OR-"
You couldn't pay me to remember the paragraphs of warnings the headset gave before logging on. Or well, before waiting to log on. Unlike the latest VR instant-loading headsets, the one I owned usually took about five minutes to wire you into Serenity. A drag, I know. But at the very least, while waiting, you could go through your messages, online friends, missions, updates and so on. Odd. My device must have been glitching on me after all, claiming I was online minutes prior. Unless… someone hacked my acco- Oh thank God. My crypto sat perfectly still in my wallet. No hacker would leave any account without stealing currency. And so settling on my it's-just-a-glitch theory, I counted down the minutes while scrolling through my dozens long friend list.
37 Friends. 36 Online.
And as you'd probably have guessed, Underwordlqueen04 had the honor of being my one offline friend. In a romantic sort of way, it was fitting. She'd been more than just a friend to me, and so she wouldn't have been on the list of online friends. Virtual or not, our lov-
"I KNOW!!" The worst parts of some distant dream forced their way back into my mind moments after Serenity booted me into our in-game bedroom. Being practically naked, and in bed, I couldn't help but wonder…was it… really just a dream? Without warning, my eyes shot across the room, aiming directly at a brownish door, still very much bolted to its hinges. A sense of relief reassured me it definitely was just a dream, or, well, night terror. And of course it was! Serenity typically used your virtual house, if you were lucky enough to afford one, as a spawn point, so it was all just a coincidence.
"I really should listen to those warnings, haha…ha…" I let out a nervous laugh of false security as I scrolled through my notifications. All two of them.
"Oh. He's online. Well, might as well, I guess." I convinced myself to get to work as the moment couldn't have been better, and I didn't mind the extra cash. Not to mention it'd have gotten my-
"I KNOW! IKNOW!!!"
-mind off of things…
"She doesn't kno-" I revved the engine of my red Akira-like motorcycle, cutting off my mouth's poor attempt at comforting me as I darted onto the highway. With how early it was, one would have expected little to no players to be in Serenity, especially on a weekday. One would be wrong. Serenity's in-game money, while troublesome to attain for most, had real-world CBDC conversion rates. So to millions of players, this fake world wasn't just about escaping the horrors of reality, or committing acts you'd never be able to do out there… No. To most of us, Serenity was more than that. It was lif-
"Are yah tryin' tah kill me?! Watch where yah going, DUMBASSSSSSS!!" An overly pissed off truck driver let me have it for losing my train of thought and drifting into the wrong lane.
"It's just a game..." I stumbled to regain my long-lost composure.
"I know… I KNOW! I KNOWWWW!!!"
"She doesn't know." If not for having been moments away from the destination, I would have revved my engine to shut myself up again. But this mission demanded a bit of…
"Shhhhh…" My motorbike, once a bright and bloody roaring beast, shifted into a gloomy and silenced serpent of a bike; allowing me a smooth, unnoticed entrance into the construction site. As my bike silently crawled through the deserted underground parking lot, I stalked the bounty tracker app for my target; and it's not against the law to drive with a phone in hand in video games, so don't bother judging me, your honor.
"Fourth floor, huh." Silently making my way up the concrete staircase, I scrolled through the hacker's reported information the game devs sent over to me.
"Hacked into various accounts and transferred thousands of gigaroos to his own account… blah blah… Also transferred weapons and blah blah blah…Reward money: 2000 gigaroo-" Bingo. I'd found my actual target and at that point, you could have colored me focused. Red. The name of my favorite gun. High-capacity mag with lightning fast reload time, high distance and accuracy, all for the price of a heavy toll on handling and on my wallet, or well, not exactly my wallet. Someone else bought it for me-
"I know you're a woman… I KNOW! IKNOWWW!!"
"Focus! On… any- anything else." It's fascinating, really. The bizarre attention to detail in Serenity. Like how as I walked up the staircases, running my fingers against the concrete wall, dust collected on my black leather gloves.
"Realistic enough to be your real life." The tagline Serenity used to hook millions of players, and it wasn't just clickbait. It's impressive, or frightening even, how real the world of Serenity felt. Makes you wonder if the life we call real is even really…real, or just another simulation. Another Matrix. For all we know, we're living in an endless cycle of the exact same day, carrying false memories of a past that never really happened. Even The Sims games have been using sentient AI since 2027, I think. Oh, God…for all we know, we're just si- BEEP BEEP BEEP!!
The first of up to three warnings blared off within my mind. Seeing as how realistic the developers made serenity, they intended the anxiety indicator as a sort of ejector, booting any player out of the game should their anxiety spike a little too much. Luckily for me, though, it'd have taken a lot more anxiety to kick me out, seeing as I went above and beyond most players when making my account. Usually, choosing another gender when setting up an account would have been totally fine, but the game and every player would know your true gender. But, as the genius I've always been, I forced bargained with my husband, so he'd scan his body with the headset, tricking the game into believing I was a man, which highly rose the built-in anxiety threshold for me. Nature is sexist, what can I say?
"You're a woman. I know you are… IKNOWWWW!!" My girlfriend's once welcomed voice now barged its way into my mind, leaving cracks in my focus, and giving me no choice but to address my train of thought, again.
"Didn't you hear what I said?! There's no way she could know! My account shows a ma- male player… damn it. Focus! F-""Wh- who are you?!"
"-ocus…Shit." He got me… I'd been so out of it I hadn't even noticed I was smack dab in the middle of the fourth floor.
"I'm a beta tester, they sent me to-"
"Don't turn around!" the raspy male voice yelled out from maybe three, no, two feet behind me.
"They sent me to check out some issues in this new location they've been working on…" A lie worthy of even convincing my girlfriend.
"What about the Eye Bots?"
"What?"
"The EYE BOTS! They send those to check problems!" This imbecile really called himself a hacker?
"You mean… A.I. bots? Look, we sent some in, but they came up empty-handed." That's it. Keep him distracted. He'd still need time to transfer the funds, so he wouldn't have logged out.
"Well, if you're really a beta teaser-"
"Tester…" Definitely not a hacker; he more than likely got lucky accessing accounts using "1234" as passwords.
"-You wouldn't mind if I help you out."
"Help me? How?" Was he the one buying time? If I could have just turned aroun-
"By logging you off!" The gun, probably an unimaginably pricey pistol, behind my head, barked as it readied itself to bite… or well, as I braced myself to bite the bullet, so to speak.
BANG!!…..BANG!