Alternate Reality

There is a story in the news about a gruesome murder and I left to wonder if I am responsible.  Having returned from an alternate reality, my hands and clothes are covered in blood.  Removing the gaming device that I have used to transport me to that other reality, my mind is racing my heartbeat and I'm not sure which one will win the race and when the winner is declared, will I still be in this reality? .  Collapsing in my chair, I search my consciousness for answers I know I will never find.  I am aware of the clock ticking loudly on the wall, but I have no recollection of the past hours while I was in the alternate reality. 

Let me start from the beginning as I try to sort this whole thing out.  My name is Todd Turell, I am thirty three, and I am an account custodian at Mergontile Financial Inc.  In my spare time I play online games with friends.  I am not married and currently I am unattached, at least in this reality.  Where I belong.

About a month ago, I caught this ad for Vectors Alternate Reality.  It wasn't cheap, but it offered a challenge that appealed to my gaming heart.  Since I am unattached, I decided to dole out the money and check out this alternate reality.  I am sorry I did, because it was more-A lot more than I had bargained for. 

I washed my hands, scrubbed them until I began to bleed, but still I fear that there is blood under my fingernails. 

I distinctly remember when I purchased the Vector Alternate Reality game online.  When I removed the unit from the box it came with directions and a face mask.  Having played with virtual reality units, I was taken back when the Vector unit fit over my face like a mask.  As soon as I turned on the power, I began to smell the unpleasant aroma of burning sulfur or what some call brimstone.  Then I heard someone laugh.  When I blinked my eyes, a dark image appeared.

“Welcome to Hell.” He had a deep voice and wasn’t wearing very much.

“What am I doing here?” I asked.

“You tell me.” He laughed, “You appeared here.” 

I realized the game had taken me to this place.  If I was to believe Dante Alighieri, I had arrived at the ninth circle, but Virgil wasn’t there to guide me through the other levels. I began to wonder what would happen if I just pressed the “off” button.

“This is Limbo.  Welcome.” The dark image spoke, “Here are the souls who were non-believers, but lead a good life.”

In the distance I could see little houses with well kept gardens.  Even with the tidy yards, the overwhelming odor of brimstone hung in the air.  

“Come.” The dark man beckoned me.

I followed him through the gates, fighting the urge to press the off button. 

Walking past a couple of the houses, I saw Aristotle having a conversation with Gandhi over how justice is supposed to be intertwined into government.     

"The He'll that most people think of, does not start until the second circle where those ruled by sexual desire are placed." The dark guide said as we walked through the first circle.  Julius Caesar still dressed in his morning garb waved to us as he picked up his morning newspaper.

A multitude of colors splashed against the sky.  My guide led me to an elevator with doors made from gold.  When the golden opened A very tall man wearing A flaming red jacket bowed and said, "Morning boss."

"Morning." He nodded as he stepped in behind me, "Second circle, Mortimer."

"As you wish." He pressed the II  button with A nod.

With A whoosh we arrived at the second circle where those who let their lust control their lives were languishing in the misery of Hell.

"Their weakness was their desire." He leaned on the rail separating us from the multitude wading through the ashes and hot coals.  Many cried out or wailed in pain.  Seeing this made me cringe.   There was A ubiquitous sign every few steps that read, "Do not feed or give water to the souls." Despite the signs that seemed to be everywhere, the souls behind the wire still called out for relief.  

Their progression continued through gluttony where rotund souls walked and then put their hands on their knees to catch their breath after a few paces. In the fourth circle, greedy souls clamored for any shiny objects they found even if the objects were gilded. The fifth circle souls shouted at each other, calling each other names that were derogatory and shameful.  In the sixth circle the heretics were set up at a booth selling lies to anyone who’d listen, just like they did in life, but the crows circled from above and plucked their eyes out leaving them to stumble blindly about.  

When they got to the seventh circle my guide showed me souls engaged in violent and mortal combat. One soul armed with an ax removed the head from his opponent’s shoulders.  The headless opponent calmly walked over, took hold of his severed head and put it back in place in order to continue his hand to hand combat.  

“I need a break.” I requested.

“Ah, if you ever come back as a permanent party, you will not be allowed to take any breaks.  You realize that don’t you?” His smile was as sinister as any I had ever seen before and he added a slight chuckle just to send a chill down my spine.  

“I have no intention of returning.” I sat on a rock that was very warm. 

“I am a recruiter.” He laughed a full-belly laugh. “Mephistopheles is the name.”

“Mephis-who?” I attempted, but could not repeat it. 

“This is why I can move freely about in your world.  You have no idea who I am.” He shook his head still grinning like he was the only one who got the punchline. “It is such easy pickings these days.” 

In a few minutes, I was able to stand again and we continued our tour in the eighth circle where Charles Ponzi was holding a lecture to a group of prospective buyers.  Kenneth Lay was moving through the crowd selling junk bonds to suckers.  

“The ninth circle is the basement.” Mephistopheles warned, “It is not for the weak of heart…or stomach, I must warn you.” 

When the golden doors opened, I saw a frozen lake.  There were bumps in the ice and when we got closer, I saw that the bumps were heads.

“These are the souls who committed homicide.  They will spend eternity with their tears frozen into the lake.  Over there are the souls who have committed suicide.” He pointed to some scarecrows in the fields next to the lake.  Crows came down to feast on the straw these scarecrows were made of until they were consumed.  They would be reformed and eaten again. 

“It gets worse.” He warned as we walked on the ice.  I could hear the cracking moan of the ice beneath our feet.

I heard someone scream.  Then I heard someone else and finally a third scream joined in.  In the center of the lake was a three headed monster who was consuming three souls.

“Judas Iscariot, Cassius, and Brutus.  Each of their treacherous acts cost the life of a great leader.  The beast will eat them all alive.  They will reform and he will feast on them again.  Judas is the one who will suffer the most.”

I could not take it anymore, so I reached up and turned off the game.  A minute later, I was standing in my living room with the unit still hooked onto my face like a Kabuki mask. 

On my computer screen was a message from Marcus Dayton, one of my gaming friends, “Great game, dude.  You sure had it together tonight.” 

Confused, I checked the date and time on my laptop.  I had only been gone for about an hour.  I was amazed, a complete tour of Hell in an hour? But I did not remember being online playing with Marcus.

It took me almost an hour to clear my head. After that I stumbled into bed and slept for over twelve hours.  I don’t often remember my dreams, but during my prolonged nap, I remember dreaming about some of the souls I had seen on my tour. 

“You are one of us.” One of the souls from the seventh circle winked at me as my guide and I passed him.  Hands reached out and grabbed me.  

“Help me, Mephistopheles!” I felt myself being pulled by the swarming crowd.

“Sorry Todd, once they have you there is nothing I can do to rescue you.” His laughter filled my head, echoing off the walls of my skull. I shook my head and woke up.  

“Where have you been, dude?” Marcus messaged me.

“Asleep.” I answered.

“It’s almost three o’clock.” He messaged back. 

I told him about the Vector Alternate Reality Game.  

“I should go buy one.” He messaged me.

“No!  It costs a lot of money and it has some realistic graphics.” I pressed enter.  The screen went blank for several minutes.

“Sounds like a blast.” 

I closed my eyes.  I knew he was on his way to buy one of the games.

A few hours passed after I went out to get some fast food. When I got back, I inhaled my hamburger and fries.  

“Come play some more.” The mask said. 

“Who said that?” I stood up in horror.  

On the table next to my chair, the mask was calling me to play some more.

“I don’t want to.” I gasped.

“Yes you do.” It disagreed.

“You took me to Hell last night.” I could feel my heart try to bust through my ribs.

“So?”

“I do not want to go there again.” I walked over and picked up the mask.

“Put me on.  Life is short.  Life is boring.” The voice was seductive, promising me an exciting adventure.

In a robotic movement, I strapped the mask on.  Again I felt myself being jettisoned toward an alternate reality.  Colors exploded around me and I could hear voices calling my name.

When I felt my feet on solid ground, I was wearing heavy armor. Something heavy struck me in the head.  

“Ahhh.” I fell to my knees, the metal surrounding me clanged when I fell to my knees.

“Sir Turell, stand and continue the combat.” I heard someone saw.  I could not see because my visor was down, but I was able to get to my feet.  The man who struck me was wearing a suit of armor like I was wielding a mace.  He went to swing his weapon at my head again, but I was able to prevent him with my shield.  The blow created tremendous clang as it struck as the force sent me back a couple of steps, but I was able to stay on my feet.  There was cheering from the stands where the audience was seated with the Lord and Lady seated in a special box in the front.  

I saw the splinter remains of a couple of lances in the dirt and two horses ladened with armor being attended to by squires. We banged our maces on each other for the better part of an hour.  Moving in the heavy armor was exhausting.  

“Cease.” Someone demanded.  My opponent lifted his visor as did I and I discovered he was younger than I was.  He appeared to be about twenty years old with long blond hair surrounding his head and sweat pouring down his face.

“Well done, Sir Turell.” He said breathing heavily.

“And who might you be, sir?” I asked. 

A look of surprise overcame his face, “I am Sir Fowler, but you knew that when we started.” 

“Sorry, I took a few knocks to my head.” I tried to smile, but he strode off.  

“Excellent.” The lord was standing applauding.

The world went black.  

When I found myself in my chair, I saw Marcus had sent me another message. 

“Dude, you were on fire last night.” 

I tossed the mask on the table and waddled off to bed, exhausted.  

Once again my dreams were punctuated with riding off on medieval quests wearing heavy armor as we rode through the woods.  I remember actual fire breathing dragons and giants who all became victims to my mighty sword.  

The next thing I remember was my alarm going off.  I slammed my hand down over it and put my feet on the floor as the start of my morning routine getting ready to go to work in my confining cubicle at Mergontile Financial Inc.  Usually I despise Monday mornings, but after my adventures over the weekend, I was looking forward to getting back to my normal world with no more elevator rides down to the ninth circle of Hell or jousting with younger opponents. 

“Hey Todd, do anything exciting over the weekend?” Hal asked.  Hal Chiniski was my cubicle neighbor who was about my age and married.

“Nope, just sacked out on the couch.” I laughed listening to the lie as it left my lips. 

“Hey, my wife has this friend-” He began, but I ducked into my little corner of the world before he hooked me up with blind date. 

One thing I like about Mergontile Financial Inc. was the routine.  While most people hate a routine, I seemed to thrive on predictability.  Unlike my gaming world where I faced unpredictable obstacles and opponents, my life as a financial consultant was steady.  It was exactly what I needed after the weekend’s adventures in my alternate reality. 

When I got home with another fast food meal, I saw Marcus messaged me again. “Man this Vector game is something, ain’t it?” 

“Yes, it is.” I messaged him back.

“I’m going to try it again and see what happens.” 

Not me.  I was going to bed early after ingesting my dinner and watching the evening news.  Another murder down by main part of the city.  From what I had heard, crime was out of control after sundown.  I was sure glad I was in my apartment preparing for an early bedtime.  

“Todd, it’s me.” I heard the mask call me.

“Sorry, not tonight.” I shook my head.

“It will be a short jaunt.” 

“No, not tonight.” I removed my tie and put it on the hanger with the rest of the ties I owned. 

“C’mon.” 

“No.” I said firmly as I unbuttoned and removed my shirt. 

“It will just be for a few minutes.” 

I stared at my mask lying on the table.  I was not as sleepy as I thought, so I found myself walking toward the mask unit.  I picked it up and put the strap over the back of my head.  Instantly the colors began to swirl and I immediately began to regret my lapse of judgment. 

“We got to make a run over at Damon’s.” A man in a pinstripe suit was about to get into an old Ford coupe.  Two men dressed in similar fashion carrying violin cases nodded and got in the backseat. “Are you coming, Bugsy?” 

It took me a moment to realize he was talking to me. Someone opened the passenger seat door and I found myself cascading down the city street with three other other men dressed like gangsters.  When I looked down, I saw I was wearing the same attire.  In my hands, I held a cleaver.  

Why did I have a cleaver? 

“Remember Bugsy, you open the safe while we keep watch.” The man driving the car said out of the side of his mouth.  I nodded as we came to a screeching halt in front of a store front.  The two men in the back got out and opened fire with their Tommy guns on the glass door which was reduced to splinters of glass glittering like stars in the glow of a nearby streetlight.  

I got out and ran for the safe which was now visible even though the safe door was pocked with bullets. Somehow I knew how to crack a safe.

“You bums, I’m gonna send you to Hell where you belong.” A man came running from the back where I saw customers sitting at slot machines.  He had a shotgun which he aimed at the two men with machine guns, but they had emptied their ammunition on the glass door.  Without thinking, I put my cleaver right in the middle of his forehead.  He screamed as blood gushed from his wound.  I watched in horror as his knees buckled and he fell to the floor.  His blood ran like a river all over my hands and clothes. 

“Good job, Bugsy.” The driver said as he looked at the man I had just murdered, “So long Damon.  Nice knowing ya.” 

He tossed his cigarette down next to the dead man.  

The world went black.

When I arrived at my apartment, I was covered in blood.  I removed the mask, but before leaving, I had forgotten to turn off the television which now carried reports of a brutal murder in town.  The victim Vincent Damon was found with a cleaver wedged in his forehead. I am at the sink washing the blood off my hands when I hear a knock at the door, followed by, “Open up! Police!”