Chapter II
Eric trudged through his virtual wonderland, losing himself in the total fantasy offered by an unreal world. Two hours later, the hunger pangs were hitting a level again and he was bored out of his skull. Going downstairs, he munched on some cereal before going back upstairs to get his contacts off and go to bed finally. By the time his contacts were out, it was 2:30 in the morning and Eric was so tired it was all he could do to keep walking. Tripping on his own feet, he thanked Destiny for the soundproof doors his dad had installed after being woken up one too many times by a victory dance.
Tiptoeing into his room by way of habit, he moved his covers up and tried to get to sleep. He could still hear whatever gang that had tried to kill him the few hours ago out there yelling. New York City isn't the only never-sleeping urban land…
Sheer exhaustion dropped him not five minutes after his head touched the pillow. Spinning through endless nightmares, he landed on one that had the haunting ability to cause him to awake, screaming.
He felt, on his back, not his rather cozy bed but a rather comfortless snooze-box of sharp, pointy rocks. Getting up, a dinosaur-istic creature was sprawled on the ground, burn wound in the head. Eric ached in the stomach, and looking at himself he realized he was not in his usual garb. A blackish cloak or a leather vest… he couldn't tell. A hood was on his head with what seemed like an empty scabbard on his back, and he felt gun holsters inside the leatherish vest. A battle was raging around him, like it was every time…
On both sides, there were beings that looked like they were four-fifths human, one fifth another animal. Furries, Eric would call them. Or would, if he was in a better situation. Some of the reptilian creatures were with clubs on the side of a group of the furriess, of which were much more diverse. Bears, wolves, lizards… on the other side it just looked to be cats, foxes, and other species of dogs.
Shrapnel of whatever energy explosives were rocking his world. Diving beside a rock, he searched around desperately for a way out. He never was able to wake up from this, not until later…
One of the scaly lizard furries was ripping the throat out of a now-dead St. Bernard soldier, basking in the glory of savage gluttony. Grabbing a rock off of the battle-scarred ground, Eric hugged the ground as he leapt for the dinosaur. Bringing it down on the creature's head, green blood spewed from the back of its cranium. Diving back to his hiding place, the two armies rolled into each other and the shudder rocked Eric's world. Trying to flee, he looked into the sky and noticed a sky battle going on above him. Several different ships were duking it out in a heated dogfight as Eric scrambled to safer ground.
Out of nowhere, a bomb, fired from some ship or another, took out an engine and both wings of one of the ships flying sky-high. Shrapnel fell around Eric, who took two shards and jumped behind a burned tree for safety. Peering around the tree, the ship that had gotten hit was now flying straight at him! At point blank range, connection was inevitable.
Eric could only do so much as turn and run before being cut down by the metallic bird. He managed to catch a glimpse of a fox-like furry before being struck, knocked out of this reality and into his own.
"Gaah!" Eric cried out upon awakening. Half of his bed was soaked in an icy sweat. Shoving the covers away from him, he staggered out of bed and almost tripped over his computer table. Feeling his way to the bathroom, he managed to find his contact lenses and squeeze them back in.
Adrenaline coursing through his body, he was barely able stop himself from poking his eyes out with his jittery hands. Finally done, he tromped downstairs. The sun was barely peeking over the horizon, but still not enough to be considered sunrise. He didn't really feel like eating anything, so after several minutes of wandering aimlessly through the house he finally went back upstairs to sleep for another hour or so.
Getting under the covers, he stared at the many game paraphernalia throughout his room. Twisting and turning to avoid the cold sweat puddle, he tried to escape on the side closest to the wall. No sale. Rolling to the part far away from the wall, he squirmed too far.
He fell off of the bed, cracking his skull on the corner of his dresser. He heard a snap like something breaking before sliding off of the bed, a blood haze clouding his view as he relapsed into unconsciousness.