Three weeks later I had hammered the old house into a place that would likely sell in a hot minute. The decor, the Opnet connectivity, wiring, and pipes had all seen significant upgrades.

  Most of the rooms retained the original purpose. One of the rooms at the end of the hall that my mother and her mother had used as a crafts room had been converted to a basic VR workout studio and I had done some serious renovations to the master bedroom.

  The biggest change was fashioning the basement into a VR dive room with a set up comparable to my old one at the Myriad offices. The walls had been padded with egg carton-like black soundproofing and I had replaced the old brown carpet with simple stain resistant black matting. A pair of large flat screen monitors hung on the wall angled forward for optimum view from the rig chair hanging at the center of the room. The whole thing was a lot like a sensory deprivation chamber.

  The real estate agent said the dive room would likely add huge selling power to the property and some surprisingly generous deals offered by some tech specialist streamer friends had cut down on the overhead cost.

  Looking over the dark dive room from the top of the basement stairs and rolled my eyes as I muttered, “Wallow in your pit of despair chief. Welcome back to your mother’s basement.” I grimaced at that. How many times had I used that insult in game?

  The neighborhood was quiet and with the exception of a rager put on by one of the houses down the street during the second week. It was looking like I could count on adding ‘comfortable and isolated’ to the list of positives for my real estate agent.

  Sydney continued to call but after the third I asked Lydia to take the call politely and then delete the messages she left. It was time to close the door on that part of my life. It had to be what was best for Sydney.

  I wish I could say the same for my own mental health. After the renovations were done and I was left truly alone I tried to keep myself busy working out and scouring the Opnet for jobs that might provide a new avenue to live my life… The process didn’t go well. The image of that kid kept invading my thoughts… I could hear his voice, modified by his microphone begging me not to have my paid mercs kill him again. His crying haunted me in my waking hours and my nightmares.

  Deciding I could scare the phantoms away with liberal applications of alcohol, I got to know a regular cast of delivery drivers who brought me my food and bottles of alcohol on a regular basis. I should have been concerned when they started to recognize me.

  Over the course of the three weeks that passed in the house I spent a huge amount of my time on video calls. Most of that time was spent talking with my lawyer Cassandra. After the second or third I didn’t hesitate to drink during the calls. Cassie seemed put off by it at first and then eventually ignored it.

  The calls rarely had a positive tone.

  “The family says they feel like you are trying to pay them off, his mother in particular said that this will all be solved in court…”

  “This suit is being brought by one of your sponsors. They say that your actions negatively affected their brand. They are asking…”

  “This is a class action by a group of players…”

  –

  Three weeks in, the legal calls slowed and I found myself looking forward to the first call with my therapist. Hoping that my voice didn’t carry any hints of the two glasses of whiskey I had that morning I said, “To sum up Doc, things are going great up here.”

  Doctor Waters looked down at me from the giant big screen monitor with a look of concern. She was a middle aged woman with curly golden hair streaked with paler streaks that was barely contained by some binding behind her head. She was wearing a turtleneck sweater and holding a large steaming mug with both hands. She gave me a wry smile and shook her head slowly, “I think we need to talk about Sydney, Malcolm.”

  Wincing, I made a middling gesture with my hand as I offered up my best fake smile, “Do we though?”

  She shook her head and said, “Why would Sydney have done what she did at the tournament?”

  “Um, because I committed a crime and Sydney is a good person?”

  She tapped her chin with a thin finger and said, “Malcolm I have been your therapist for four years and I feel like I know Sydney as well as I’ve come to know you. In what world would Sydney Cross choose not to confront you directly about what was going on?”

  Slurring slightly, I added, “I suppose this one,... I mean this world.”

  She sighed and studied me with concern as she spoke gently, “She would have come to you Malcolm. Sydney has always been extremely direct. You yourself have told me that is one of the reasons you were originally drawn to her.”

  Waving a dismissive hand, I leaned back in my chair in the dive room looking up at her on the screen, “What exactly am I supposed to do about the fact that she was acting so out of character?”

  “Talk to her?”

  Scoffing at that, I shook my head, my eyes watering as I rasped, “She is better off without a killer like me in her life, Doc.”

  She looked at me with surprise and said, “Malcolm…”

  Blinking away the burgeoning tears I looked at the digital clock read-out on the wall hastily adding, “Oh, look at the time. I think our session is up.”

  She nodded and conceded the point spreading her hands as she said, “I am going to send you a prescription for amitriptyline, Malcolm. I want to see you next week.” She looked up at me through the lens and said, “Please think about what I said.”

  Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on the original website.

  Nodding, I offered her a cool smile as the connection clicked off and the background of my desktop appeared. It was a pair of golden birds entwined as they flew upward through a vortex. The coat of arms of my old guild.

  Staring at it for a long time in the darkened room I finally slid my hand into one of my haptic gloves. Reaching up I grabbed at the background, grasping at it and pulling it away. I tossed it into the desktop trash bin and then proceeded to scour my desktop for anything related to the guild, EO, or my former friends and destroy it.

  Muttering into the dark room, I said, “Lyd, order that medicine.”

  “You got it Mal. I’ve also got a message for ya from your lawyer.”

  “Play it for me.”

  “Malcolm, I hope everything is going well for you. I’ve talked to the financial advisors you passed along and the last I heard they were setting up your accounts and getting things in order.”

  There was a brief pause and then she continued, “I did what you suggested and blocked your former associates from contacting my office. Our people have gotten a ton of requests for interviews and even some bribes to suss out where you are or details about the tournament. We are redirecting the calls and it shouldn’t be a problem anymore.”

  There was a rustle of paper and she continued, “We did get one call that I think might be of interest to you. I am sending it along. Stay strong up there, kid.”

  The call cut out and I looked up at the monitor, “Lydia, throw up that message she attached.”

  A formal business-like email identical to the ones that I used to receive in my position as guildmaster and CEO splashed up on screen. This one was for a job as a playtester for a VR MMO game. I didn’t remember applying for a job with them.

  I scanned the message as I sipped my drink. Playtesting? I could playtest games. It might be nice to escape the real world for a while.

  Staring at the message for a long moment I opened the attached contract. Scanning it, I nodded and slurred out an order, “Lyd, send that legalese doc on to Cassandra to confirm our safety. We will give it a shot.”

  –

  That night I sat in the dark, soundproof basement and moved cables around to try and figure out a problem with my RIG sync’s latency. I scooped my glass of whiskey up and downed the remainder.

  Muttering, I grabbed another tool and peered into the tower’s innards, “Lydia, what the hell am I doing wrong?”

  She answered softly, “In general or right now?”

  Looking up at the ceiling, I slurred, “Alright young lady, I won’t have that sass from you.”

  She answered flatly, “Not sure what you’re talking about sugar.”

  Glancing up at the bottle on the nearby table, I winced when I noticed that it was empty, “Great.”

  After a brief pause where I bit my lip and cursed I said, “Lyd, put my usual on the grocery list and order it tomorrow morning.”

  She answered softly, “You got it sweetie.”

  Staggering up off the ground I pressed the heel of my palms to my eyes as I muttered, “I’m going upstairs Lyd. Lock down the house.”

  The locks on all the exterior doors and windows thunked hollowly throughout the house, followed by complete silence. Picking up my glass, I started toward the stairs.

  Lydia chimed in, “Babe, you asked me to remind you of the letter on the work table.”

  I looked down at the simple envelope, nodded and scooped it up with a sigh, “Oh yeah, thanks Lyd.”

  Climbing the stairs, I shuffled into a kitchen cast in blue light. Sliding the envelope onto the center island, I dumped the ice into the sink followed by the dirty glass.

  I leaned there looking out the windows overseeing the darkened backyard and blinked.

  The yard was suddenly cast in sunlight and I saw several young children running through the grass yelling and playing.

  It was me, and my cousin Chase. My father was laughing and tossing us a plush football as we roughhoused under the laundry lines.

  Was that what my dad had looked like? He had a thick beard that reached the top of his chest, dark eyes and short chestnut hair like mine. He had what people would call a dad bod and was wearing his work shirt and a pair of jeans. I vaguely remembered this day. It was three months before my dad left.

  “You were such a cute kid.”

  Tumbling away from the sink, I fell to the floor with a full bodied scream. The daylight was gone and I was sitting on the floor of my kitchen looking up at… my mother.

  My voice was a slurred panic, “Mom… mom you’re… you die… you’re dea...”

  The patch she had worn over her right eye the last time I saw her was gone. There was only a vacant space where the eye had last been. She smiled at me, her teeth impossibly white and straight as something shifted in that empty socket. It writhed as she said, “I’m so glad you came home sweetie.”

  Screaming, I threw myself back against the fridge shaking as I put my hands over my eyes muttering to myself, “What the fuck… what the fuck…”

  When I opened my eyes I was looking at an empty kitchen and nearly hyperventilating. Staggering to my feet, I sputtered, “Fucking… fucking booze. What the actual fuck?”

  Stumbling down the hall with only a quick glance over my shoulder and into the dark and blue cast kitchen I made my way toward the bathroom and my bedroom.

  Pushing open the bathroom door with a shaky hand, I grabbed my recently delivered medicine. Downing several I looked up and into my darkened eyes. Breathing in sharply, I studied my face in the dark, “That should do it.”

  Staring into my own eyes for several long moments I tried to calm myself down. When I felt relatively calm, I staggered my way across the hall from the bathroom shaking my head to dispel the dizziness. I flopped into my old twin bed, I still hadn’t been able to force myself to use my parent’s old room.

  Whispering to myself in a distant and drowsy voice I said, “Home is where the heart is, I said. Get back to where you feel safe, I said.”

  –

  Remembering Archmage Voss

  Memoriam Wall

  Please post a written or video response remembering one of the greatest players in Eternal Online’s history!

  The video began with a flicker of light and revealed a young woman with elven features sitting in a stone room surrounded by torch filled sconces. She was wearing white and silver robes with an ivory symbol hanging around her neck. A little goblin creature in leather armor and carrying a staff stood next to her fidgeting.

  Her smile was pensive, but after a long pause she spoke up, “My name is Carrie,” she gestured to the little goblin creature and said, “this is my little brother Joseph. We both started playing EO three years ago.”

  She looked down as she continued, “My brother started playing before me, when he was ten years old,” she stuttered and gave him a loving look, “he didn’t tell us at the time but he was having a lot of trouble at school, especially making friends.”

  The little goblin scuffed his boot and looked uncomfortable.

  Carrie beamed a smile and sighed, “He was struggling in a low level zone and kept dying. He asked a few people for help and kept getting ignored. He told me that he was ready to give up, but I asked him to give the game one more chance.”

  After a moment she sighed and looked into the camera, “Not long after a high level player found Joe struggling to quest and invited him into a group and spent the entire day grouping with him. Not only did he help him with quests he taught him how to play the game and was patient and kind.”

  “He helped Joe all day, and when he had to leave he sent him a friend request. Later, he even invited him into his guild and introduced him to other members. No matter how much time passed, if Joe was having a problem this player would take time when he could to listen and offer advice,” a tear ran down her cheek as she continued.

  “Later, when I was having problems of my own, Joe convinced me to try the game and the guild welcomed me as well. I met the man who helped Joe. He was kind and welcoming to me. He helped me just like he did Joe so many years before.”

  She sighed and then looked directly into the camera, “I know that Voss did some terrible things. All of us saw how obsessed he was becoming but Joe and I always just saw the man who had taken a lot of his own time to help us enjoy a game and introduce us to friends we still have today.”

  She offered a pained smile and nodded, “Joe and I left the guild when Voss left EO. A lot of the friends we made over the years came with us. We started a new guild to honor him, not for the horrible things he did, but for the man who helped us and brought us together.”

  Finally she smiled at the camera and added, “Malcolm, we hope you found the peace you deserve.”