Load Custom Character

by Tyler R Lee

  Peter then remembered how it always went when he was shoved hard from behind. This time, he smashed his head into the lockers, which brought a few tears of pain to his eyes as he clutched his head. Out of the corner of one of his tear filled eyes, he thought he saw Ariel in the crowd, a look of concern for him, and disgust for his assailants. He only caught a glimpse, however, before he felt Tucker punch him in the stomach, forcing the air out of him.

  Peter went down to his knees gasping for breath, a mixture of ringing in his head from the lockers, and from the cheers from the crowd at the public display of violence they were getting to enjoy. He hated all of them. As he hated them, he felt a fist connect with the side of his face, spinning him completely to the ground. Then, everything happening so quickly He felt several kicks to his ribs and head as he tried to cover up.

  “Hey! Hey! Knock it off! All of ya!” Peter heard as he tasted blood and saw nothing but blurry colors through teary eyes. “All of ya!?” Really!? he thought.

  “Detention, today, for all three of ya!” he heard again.

  “You’ve got to be kidding me,” he blubbered as he tried to stand but just made it to his knees.

  “Don’t give me any lip, Mr. Robinson,” he heard Mr. Karlig, the vice principal say. “I saw you throw Mr. Stevens to the ground. All three of you were fighting.”

  “Such bullshit,” Peter thought he said under his breath.

  “Wanna make it a week, Mr. Robinson?”

  “No.”

  “Good.” Mr. Karlig released both Stevens boys from his grasp and stormed off. Both Tucker and Travis just laughed as they walked away.

  Peter just sat on the floor trying to catch his breath. Last period had already started, but he could not have cared less at this point. It was like this everyday, but it never got any easier. Often he would come home with bumps or bruises from fighting, yet his parents didn’t seem to care. All they would say is “fight back” or “don’t let them walk all over you.” They treated it like it was his fault. But the only thing he was at fault for was trying to get by being himself. He was the “nerd” in the eyes of his classmates. He enjoyed his school work, and was also a fan of things that most students in his small minded school felt were nothing more than geeky hobbies.

  As he sat on the cold floor of the hallway, no sounds, no students, all by himself, he thought it was fitting how alone he was. After all, this was how he felt all the time, inside. Every fight he was forced to be in, every time he was forced to defend himself against unwarranted bullying, he felt himself die a little inside. Everytime he heard others laughing while he failed to defend himself against too many to fight off, he wished he could just fade away. Everytime he had to pick himself up off the ground after everyone had got their laughs in, seeing that no one really cared how he was, he wondered if it would be better if he were dead.

  He slammed a fist into the cold floor of the hallway and cursed, “Goddammit! I hate them. I hate all of them.”

  “I know the feeling,” he heard a familiar voice say. This startled him, as he thought he was having a private outburst. If his face hadn’t already been red, Ariel would have noticed him blushing from embarrassment.

  “What...I--”

  “They’re all jerks, I know,” she offered as she knelt beside him and made to help him to his feet. “Travis and Tucker are assholes, but so are the rest of them for cheering the fight on. Like they have nothing better to do than to watch bullies do their thing.”

  “Yeah,” he answered, not really knowing how to respond. He was so angry and miserable at that moment, but, at the same time, he had never heard someone relate to him like she was. Again, he thought she was beautiful in the moment. And again, he shook the thought away before he stared too long.

  “Well, other than a red face and a bloody lip, doesn’t look like they did anything noticeable to you.”

  “No?” Peter touched his face, then felt the blood on his lip. He looked at it, then rubbed the blood between his thumb and forefinger. “Guess that’s something. Wouldn’t want them to wreck my pretty face.”

  He hadn’t expected her to laugh, but she giggled at his lame joke, his attempt at levity in this awkward moment for him, a socially awkward individual. He laughed back.

  “Well,” she started again, not seeming to know what to say, herself, “I better get to class.”

  “Same. Thanks for helping me. I appreciate it,” Peter stammered.

  “No problem,” she smiled, which made him blush again. He silently thanked fate for his red face.

  ***

  This wasn’t the first time Peter had gotten detention for simply defending himself. It happened more often than not when a fight broke out. At sixteen years old, he was used to it at this point. After he completed the little bit of homework he had, he spent the rest of the two hours reading his gaming magazines. He was particularly interested in the ones where Our World had made the cover--just a couple of the several times this revolutionary game had been the main feature of a gaming, tech, or science magazine. It was an article on the upcoming free weekend, which started on Friday, which was tomorrow. It wasn’t like most free weekends with online games where if you were not currently playing, you could try for free. No, this weekend was particularly special.

  “...excited for the highly anticipated free weekend for the critically acclaimed and multi-award winning online multiplayer game Our World--including Technological Achievement of the Decade. This upcoming weekend--starting on Friday, October 1, and going through Sunday, October 3--anyone who logs into Our World, be they first timers or those already enamored by the incredibly immersive experience, will get an entire month free, having the normal $29.99 a month price waived.”

  Peter gave such a downtrodden sigh that the teacher overseeing detention asked him what was wrong. After he assured her it was nothing, he went back to reading. He was extremely disappointed that this weekend, the only weekend he could actually give the game a try and get a whole month free, he had neither game nor system, couldn’t afford either, and was quite sure his parents wouldn’t be up for such a purchase. No, he would miss it.

  Most of the time Peter didn’t mind missing out on games. He had made peace with the fact long ago that he just couldn’t afford most, and knew he could save up and buy them cheaper later on. But Our World was different. Heralded as the most immersive experiences of all time, it took players to a completely different world and allowed them to be something completely different. It allowed them to be something powerful, strong, courageous, but most of all, it allowed them to escape the real world in a way that no other game could before.

  Peter continued reading the article. It went on to explain how Our World worked, which he already knew quite well. However, he read on, always enjoying anything he could get on the game so far out of his reach.

  “...many know, Our World is a Massively Multiplayer Online Role Playing Game that utilizes the most advanced virtual reality system ever, The Emerser. Set in a sprawling fantasy world, characters create their own unique and personalized avatar to explore the world. They have the ability to fully customize the appearance of their avatar, from height and weight, to skin color, eye color, hair color, all the way to giving them animalistic characteristics such as a wolf or cat-like face or hands. They also can choose from a variety of classes, which determine your approach to combat. Once in the game, the choice of what to do is up to them. Dungeon diving, treasure seeking, monster hunting, player versus player battlefields, and so many more options are at their disposal.”

  Peter continued to read until he heard the teacher say that they could all go home. As he was about to put the magazine in his bag, it was ripped from his hand, leaving him holding the pages he was reading while the rest of it was flung across the room. “See ya tomorrow, Pete,” he heard one of the twins say as they both laughed and walked out of the room.

  Looking at the torn magazine, then finally just tossing it in the trash as his hands shook, Peter mumbled, “per
fect end to a perfect day.”

  Chapter 2

  Even with detention, Peter still made it home before his parents. This wasn’t surprising, since they usually never made it home until late evening anyway. And, certainly, he preferred it when they weren’t there. During the few hours he had to himself, he wasn’t getting judged, told off, or yelled at for staying up in his room only to get yelled at while spending time with his mother and father.

  This day, however, he did have something waiting for him. On the front porch of their small townhouse Peter saw a sizeable package. He assumed it was for his parents; he rarely got any packages aside from when he ordered something online, which was hardly ever since his parents would always tell him what a waste of his money it was. When he approached to pick it up and take it inside, he saw that this package was addressed to him. Upon further inspection, he found no return address or anything that would give any hint to who this large package was from.

  “I’ve seen this on the news, plenty,” he said aloud, eyeing the box suspiciously. “Packages with no return address. Could be something dangerous. Might-as-well cap off this awesome day,” he said dryly as he unlocked the front door and carried the package inside.

  He quickly made his way upstairs to his room, shut the door, placed the box on his bed, pulled up his computer chair, sat down, and stared at it for several minutes, contemplating what to do. Finally, he muttered, “screw it,” and ripped it open. When he had fully unwrapped the package, he held it in his shaking hands, still staring, but with eyes so wide that they might have slid out of his skull and rolled under his bed. He held in his hands a brand new, never unboxed Emerser, complete with a copy of Our World.

  “Wh...wha...but...huh?” Peter stammered, not sure what to make of the situation. Certainly he hadn’t bought one. He could never afford the $799 price tag. Had his parents bought it for him? He quickly shook that preposterous thought away and couldn’t help but laugh aloud at its absurdity. Besides, if anyone had bought it, it would have showed up in packaging sporting a logo of some kind. But this one had nothing, almost like whoever had delivered it wanted it to stay a secret until Peter opened it. He shook away that unlikely thought as well. Why would anyone care about delivering an Emerser? Maybe they were worried about someone seeing it and stealing it before Peter got home? That thought brought everything back full circle to his first question: Why?

  One thing was happening inside of Peter while all of these questions rushed through his head. Something separate, but a part of him. Something that was stronger than all these questions and many more. Something stronger than anything he had ever felt. More than anything, more than finding out the answer to who sent this and why, Peter really wanted to use the Emerser.

  Realizing that was really the only thing that mattered, he tore open the box, gently unpacked the headgear that was The Emerser video game system, took a second to marvel at its sleek but sturdy design--he always thought it looked a little like a more stylish and sleeker version of the helmet Luke and Leia wore in Return of the Jedi when they met the Ewoks--and then hooked it up to his computer to initiate the setup and installation process. It took forever--at least, to him. In reality, it took about thirty minutes, including the shorter setup and installation time of Our World. When it was finally done, he crawled onto his bed, placed the helmet-like system on his head, laid down-- just as the instructions suggested was the safest way to use the system--and hit the power button on the side.

  After a couple of seconds, Peter saw the screen on the visor turn to a sky blue background, complete with clouds far in the distance. Then, in big, white letters, the message “Lie back and relax,” came up on the screen, complete with a soothing voice to read it aloud. Peter tried but found it hard to relax. Then, the sky started to rush past him, and he noticed that after a moment, he was seeing it rush past him in his peripherals as well. When he turned to look, he just saw more sky and clouds rushing past.

  He turned his head forward again just in time to see the sky disappear and a black room with a colorful grid display take its place. Now it was like he was rushing through the world of Tron on one of those bikes, and he could swear he felt the wind on his face.

  After only a few seconds, the grid disappeared and he came to an abrupt stop in an infinitely large white room. He looked around and all he could see was white. He walked a bit to his left, then looked around and walked back to his right as he listened to the echo of his footsteps. It was then that he realized he wasn’t on his bed anymore. Of course, he was still on his bed in the real world, but his virtual self was in this white room. When he examined himself, he noticed he was wearing a white shirt and white pants with no shoes. He stared at his hands, then to the infinite room, then his hands again, shifting his head back and forth, eyes wide, mind whirling with excitement and curiosity. It seemed so real.

  “That’s usually everyone’s initial reaction the first time they use The Emerser,” came a calm, kind voice from behind him. Peter spun, nearly jumping out of his paper-white clothes in the process. Standing not twenty feet from him where previously there had been infinite white was a man of average height, modest build, and a friendly, bespectacled face. He had dark hair like Peter’s, though his was neatly parted on the side. Instead of a plain white shirt and pants, he wore a long, white coat like that of scientist. Underneath was a blue tie and matching vest, black slacks, and shiny black shoes.

  “Um…,” was all Peter could think to say at the appearance of this visitor.

  “Hello, Peter,” the man said as he extended his hand. It was then that Peter realized why the man looked so familiar.

  “Alexander Yoshitsune?” he asked as he took the man’s hand and shook it. It actually felt like a real handshake--the man’s hand was warm and firm, contrasting Peter’s hand, which was far more sweaty from excitement and nervousness.

  “You recognize me.” The man’s smile widened as he released Peter’s hand.

  “Of course. I’m a big fan. Always have been. Well, at least, of the real Alexander Yoshitsune.”

  The man’s smile faded quickly and was replaced with a curious look as he cocked his head to the side. “Pardon?”

  “Oh,” Peter stammered, thinking he had offended whoever was running this avatar, if it was indeed more than a computer program. “I mean, you look just like him, but I’m not naive or arrogant enough to think that the real Alexander Yoshitsune would meet me here. So, what are you? Are you a welcoming program for all new users?”

  The man laughed, genuinely, which Peter thought was odd. “You are a very intelligent boy. Just as I thought. But, you are wrong about this,” he added as he raised a finger at Peter. “I am the real deal.” Peter raised an eyebrow and crossed his arms in front of him. “Don’t believe me?” the man asked, clearly amused.

  “No disrespect, but why would the creator of the greatest technological innovation of the 21st century pay me a visit?”

  “Very good question. I don’t suppose there is anything I could say to convince you?”

  “Well, no. If you are a program, I’m sure you have a multitude of responses to any question I could have concerning Alexander Yoshitsune.”

  “Very true. If I was a program I would certainly be programed with such.” The man continued to smile, enjoying the conversation. “Are you sure there isn’t anything you could ask me to prove I am who I say I am?”

  Peter thought about it. “Who sent me The Emerser and Our World?”

  “I did. But you can do better than that,” the man smiled.

  Peter huffed a bit at that. “Alright…” He thought long and hard about his next question. There was nothing he could ask that a program or representative wouldn’t know. However, maybe he could judge by how they answered the question. He had it, then. “Why me?”

  “That’s it,” the man answered, louder than Peter was expecting, as he smiled wide and pointed a finger at the boy. “That’s the question. Why you, out of everyone, would I send my system to, free o
f charge, I might add?”

  “Thank you,” Peter said, suddenly feeling he had rudely forgotten to show his gratitude, Yoshitsune or not.

  “Of course, Peter. But why? Why, indeed.” The man started to pace as he looked at Peter. “Do you remember last year, that paper you wrote about escapism in video games and other forms of entertainment?”

  “Yes,” Peter answered, eyes giving away his surprise. “How did you know--”

  “Oh, no big thing. My company has a system set up where we can detect when keywords pertaining to us are used frequently in said papers. It is a great system for spotting potential employment prospects, especially since most school papers are submitted online these days. Obviously, we have to ask permission to read these, but I am a somewhat well known individual.” Peter laughed aloud at that understatement, which Yoshitsune smiled at. “So, your school was happy to show me the paper.”