He had been evicted recently.
The Dude lived in a silent little neighborhood, where people would walk dogs, have cookouts, etc..
How could he have predicted that everyone would go insane?
All he did was walk out of his home to the moving van, preparing to figure out his living situations, when suddenly he was being attacked by policemen.
In so little time, everything had gone to shit, with all in town going mad. Why did he have to be the only sane one?
For god's sake, there were men with rocket-launchers!
How did all of the world's evils come together? And why was he the main target?
The only reasonable thing to do in this situation was fight back. He ran to the back of what used to be his home, and grabbed a discarded machine gun. Despite this previously being a quiet neighborhood, that doesn't mean people weren't bat-shit insane. Its always good to have a weapon around. Even if it is a high-powered one.
He ran up to the nearest police officer and shot the man dead.
This only angered the other officers and "rocket men". There will be consequences to their crimes, and apparently the Dude was the one who would deliver them.
Citizens screamed and ran in the streets, all shouting obscenities. All had to pay.
He ran toward a random woman, and proceeded to shoot her repeatedly in the back of the head.
Never before did he feel the need to kill, but now that he had a taste for it.. He could.. not.. stop.
The police men tried to knock him down to the ground in an attempt to stop the massacre, but only initiated their own death.
Soon, the whole neighborhood was dead. Citizens and all.
He had to seek help. There had to be someone else who was sane. Maybe the military?
The base was on the furthest side of the state. This would be a long walk.
He didn't remember anything until he reached the bridge.
He looked back behind him only to be met by gore and various mangled cars.
What had he done? What had these people done?
All hope was not lost for him yet, seeing as he kept on walking.
Officers and various army men were waiting for him at the end of the bridge, ready to end him.
He began to lose hope for Arizona. Did everyone suddenly become possessed by rage?
Just as he was about to turn back, something compelled him to continue walking.
"What?" the Dude asked himself, still trying to regain control of his body.
Nothing he did worked, and all he could do was watch as he murdered countless people. He didn't know if there were any civilians in the wreckage, but his body sure as hell made unrecognizable heaps of flesh out of anything that came in it's path.
He felt his conscience fade out, his vision blurred, and it all went to black.
He regained consciousnesses in the city.
Similarly to the bridge, carnage followed him. Except now, he had complete control again.
The city seemed to have already been attacked, bodies were in the streets, and blood covered the buildings.
Did he do all of this?
He inspected his own trench-coat, which was now soaked in blood and speckled with brain matter.
He felt weak. Did anyone he killed actually do anything wrong?
There was no real way for him to answer that question, seeing as every-time he committed a murder, he wasn't "awake" to see it.
He felt tears fight their way out of his tear-ducts, yet they just wouldn't fall.
He wanted for this to end.
Everything started to fade to black again.. He stopped trying to fight back.
Screams and smoke filled the air, he hovered above a man, who struggled for his life.
He wished he wasn't in control anymore, but somehow he was in control of his body again.
He stood in place, surrounded by a pool of blood, and currently standing in front of a raging flame.
Voices were starting to fill his mind...
"Come on, move dammit!"
"Why wont you move?"
"Is my game broken?"
Game? His life was not a game. At least, he didn't think it was.
Then, it struck him.
Everything that has been happening was not his fault. He was being controlled by an outside force, as if he were in a video game.
Because he IS in a video game. Yet, somehow he kept regaining control.
He looked down at his shotgun, that the player acquired somewhere.
This was his time to end the suffering, end the rampage.
The only way out was death.
"What are you doing Dude!" The player shouted at the screen, desperate to continue with the game.
Maybe this was destiny. A very shitty and flawed one at that, but maybe he was meant to die.
He put the gun to his chin, ready to end it.
Before he did, he muttered..
"I regret nothing."