December 31st, 2019 -
You find yourself currently enveloped in a neat little switch package. A game that's become notorious for stripping away player's precious free time. A game that you so graciously received from the thrill-seeking Pearl, in a Christmas exchange. The high concentration, action crusade, dubbed Hollow Knight. A terrific adventure title about pillaging souls and slaying gruesome foes. You ignored the warnings of gamer withdrawal and made your way through the game's extensive set of labyrinths. Each batch of catacombs presented a new precarious challenge for you to sink your teeth into. You were hooked from the moment you booted up the title screen, and you found yourself unable to break the chains that bound you to the rubber grip.
You just reached the Mantis village and were preparing for a grand battle against the lords that inhabited the three high chairs. A frightful bunch, capable of quickly destroying any inexperienced players. You channel your inner warrior and challenge the menacing opponents to duel. Your fingers clasp the glass pad tightly, pressing the edge of the metallic box firmly against your chest — the sensation of flicking the controller's sticks and mashing the trigger buttons was nothing short of captivating. This boss battle was a real test of your reflexes and perfect parrying ability. Winning this dangerous confrontation would earn you a massive amount of respect from the game's community. However, it was only the beginning of the obstacles that were yet to come.
After numerous attempts, you finally reach the second phase of the fight where the two other mantises charge into the ring.
Suddenly, you can hear your phone ringing from across the room, releasing you from your video game trance. You place your foot against the dresser and kick off the furniture, flinging the swivel chair towards the loud robotic ringtone. You simultaneously pick up the phone as you input a jump command on the gamepad, dodging another deadly assault. After pressing the phone to your ear with your shoulder, a familiar voice interrupts your current gaming endeavor.
"Hey, what's up, Agent 4," Marie greets.
You're caught off guard by the identity of the caller, expecting the call to be from Callie. One of the enemy mantises seizes this opportunity of confusion and pierces through your healing armor.
"Are you excited about the party," Marie inquires.
What party?
You find yourself continually slipping during the course of the battle. You keep getting knocked around by the flurry of carefully planned lance blows. A surge of anxiety pulsates throughout your body, matching the unsteady thrashing of your heartbeat. Even the sweat from your fingers made it hard for you to hold the switch properly.
"You are coming to my new year's party, right?" Marie's voice echoes again.
You fumble with your letters and deliver a shaky answer to the now irritated Marie. "Good, because if you don't, I reveal to Callie some interesting trivia about you. Maybe, I'll even show her your prized video game collection," Marie bribes.
You pause the game, quickly snapping your attention to her voice. How does she know about that? You lay down the gaming tablet on the desk and clutch the phone with your other hand. If her statement carried any validity, there was no chance you would miss it.
"I searched through your switch library when you were to busy opening gifts and discovered some striking choices," Marie discloses.
No way, she's bluffing.
"What was it now, I think I saw something called Kawaii Neko School Festival 2."
No no no stop. Please don't do this to me.
"Bunny Girl Mecha Harem Deluxe Version"
You can't, don't make me remember my idiotic decisions.
"Tsundere Dragon Adventure Magic Edition"
Oh the humanity. Why in Cod's name do I have to be reminded of my past mistakes as a human being?
"Do you want me to keep going, we haven't even gotten to the ecchi section yet," Marie warns.
You plead to Marie, that was the old you. Shovel Knight and Dead Cells are your bread and butter. You've long disregarded such childish pastimes.
"What about the girl on your phone screen. What anime is she from?"
Dammit, Maho's beauty must be sheltered from the world.
"Trust me; I have much more dirt on you than you realize," Marie continues.
• You ask her why she's doing this.
"I want you to get out of that lonely room of yours and start flexing those social muscles, and a party is a great place to start. Just think of all the friends you could make," Marie adds.
Wouldn't a party be the final trial, not a starting point?
"How are you ever going to woo Callie if you sit around and play video games all day? Come on, be a man, and put yourself out there," Marie motivates.
You look over to the game console and stare blankly at the dimly lit screen. A sense of hesitation plagues your body, and you feel incredibly tempted to continue fighting. But if it had anything to do with Callie, you needed to put her first. You pick up the glowing device beckoning to be played, and turn off the system. You were about to die anyway, and It was useless to keep trying.
• You inform Marie that you were planning on meeting Callie at 11:30 on top of her apartment complex.
Marie ends the call with an optimistic tone, "Don't worry. You've got plenty of time to get over there. Trust me; this will be the best night of your life," Beep.
Maybe she had a point. Callie can't be the only person you hang out with daily. A party could be a great place to make some new friends. Eh screw it, you had nothing to lose. Let's get ready for this thing.
You shift your vision to a high wall clock positioned above your desk. The time displayed is easy to decipher due to the clock's towering stature. 6:00 PM, six hours left until the big date. You should probably wear your new spangled watch tonight; it would be awful for you to lose track of time.
You hop into the glass shower and take a few minutes fiddling with the nozzle's settings. You peer out the bathroom door and deposit your clothes on the ground. The wall clock catches your gaze once again; it almost possesses a foreboding atmosphere. 6:05 PM, wow, time sure flies when you're not thinking about it. You just turned on the shower, and it's already five minutes closer to New Years'. Going forward, you needed to be more careful about spending your time.
As your drenched in the shower's cold stream of moisture, you proceed to pop open the bottle of expensive shampoo you'd been saving for a special occasion. You then lather the gooey substance in your hair. After multiple scrubs and brushes, the merged pound of soap trickles down the side of your face. You attempt to multitask during this process by browsing old internet articles on mastering casual banter. The tips consist of maintaining a courteous attitude, talkative nature, bringing up fascinating topics, and other overly apparent ideas that anyone could figure out on their own. Also, your journey through popular squid forums proves fruitless.
The foamy material encased in your fingers leads the phone to slip out of your grasp and smash against the mosaic floor tile. Small glass pieces followed by an enormous crack emit on the right side of the screen. You frantically inspect the phone's solid frame, noticing slight indents along the rim.
Come on, come on, turn on. Don't fail me now, buddy.
But alas, the square screen remains devoid of any color.
Crap, just my luck, huh. The one time I need my phone more than ever.
You sigh and toss the fragmented device towards the sink, proceeding to end the cleaning session shortly after.
You style your hair with a comb and then apply a thick glob of gel to the base of your scalp. You ready your toothbrush and unleash the weapon in a fast turbulent motion, rotating the colorful paste in small circles around your gums. You fumble back to your room, stepping over various dirty belongings along the way. As you rifle through your dresser, you become enthralled with the potential equipment that could accompany you tonight.
Following your long search through messy bins and upturned drawers, you finally opt for a red cuttlegear LS and a pair of long blue jeans. You then use the front stairs as leverage to tie your trooper power stripes.
——————————————————
You're dropped off at Marie's house party by a close friend. The bright virescent hue of the car's clock still lingers within your mind — 7:00 PM.
"Eyyy, welcome to the party, Agent 4. I'm really glad you could make it. I promise that you won't regret it." Marie assures. "Pearl and Marina are around here somewhere. I swear I saw them a minute ago," Marie says, surveying the living room for the two fugitives.
Marie guides you through the entrance and uses the kitchen as a shortcut to the hallway. The parties' guests are embellished with decorative party hats and glittering air horns. Booze and other celebratory substances fill the cheaply constructed table in the corner of the room.
"We got coral races, kelp races, and a pool outback if you're interested. And I know if Callie were here, you'd be definitely involved in the pool scene", Marie teases.
Pool? It's the end of December, who the hell would be wearing a bathing suit in this weather.
"How about a quick round of barnacle pong Agent 4. I hear it's a real crowd-pleaser," Marie informs. The visitors face light-up once they overhear Marie's special request. The makings of a small crowd appear in front of you, cheering for the ball hurling competition to begin.
"Come on, play one round," Marie begs.
You could easily sneer at this situation of peer pressure and continue your good-intentioned romp. However, you felt more than compelled to join the match, as if some of this decision was apart of your own volition. You'd spent the past few months cooped up in a small dingy room, and you were itching for a chance to let loose. It was only natural for you to stumble upon a place to satisfy those desires.
You adorn the sacred tennis ball and arch the ammunition towards the group of plastic cups. The ball's trajectory was a little higher than you anticipated and spun along the rim before descending into the plastic abyss. Your opponent smirks at your loss and tosses the sports ball in the center of the ring.
This match presented the same aura as the one with the three mantises — a trade of swings back and forth between two highly skilled contestants. Unlike Marie had predicted, it appears that video games did have some real-life connotation, although it wasn't a good sign that you were far from succeeding in the mantis fight.
"Chug, chug, chug," The crowd repeatedly chants.
After a couple of rounds, you and your rival begin to feel the weight of your drinks. You even slip while chucking another shell into the fray of plastic. Unfortunately, the ball remains perfectly sandwiched between the two red monsters. Argh, not again. I gotta get out of here before I lose my lunch. The crowd acts as a barricade, preventing any escape from the game.
An expression of pain manifests onto Marie's face as she bestows upon you another deadly cocktail. As you tightly clutch the red substance, your mind begins to swell with regret.
I'm so stupid, why did I agree to this. I knew this wasn't a good idea, but I still went through with it. What kind of monster am I, jeopardizing my relationship with Callie over a stupid game.
I'm sorry, Callie.
You lift the cup skyward and chug the remains of the sloshy liquid down your throat. Your vision gradually dwindles, and you start losing feeling in your fingers. The room's colors fade together, concocting a blurry shade of pink and orange.
It looks like this is it. I'll probably miss my midnight date with Callie, and she'll never forgive me.
I wish that I could have another chance. Then I could make things right...
——————————————————
You wake up positioned on the sofa with several pillows covering your body. A sharpie stache also hangs over your mouth. You bring your watch up to your dazed eyes and examine the needles within the timepiece — 8:15 PM.
You shoot off the couch, tumbling onto your feet. YES, I still have a chance. It's only been an hour. I can do this. I can make this right.
You try to make a speedy retreat towards the exit, but a large gathering of people blocks your advancements, and you're forced you to squirm your way through the congestion. You also begin to take note of a large-scale fistfight occupying the center of the arena.
You gradually work your way through the pushing and shoving of rowdy onlookers, nearing the source of the commotion. Once you reach the middle of the area, the cause of the uproar is made apparent. There are two squid brutes with interlocked fists. They exchange powerful swings at each other's faces, releasing a spurt of blood with each passing punch. Their motives were clear. They were both fighting for the affection of mistress Marie.
Marie attempts to intervene with the battle by forcing herself between the two beasts. However, one of the contender's fist is already in motion, barreling towards an oblivious Marie.
You hurl your body forward at the punch and block the strike using your cheekbones. Your body immediately plummets to the ground after you take the massive impact against your face.
The last thing you hear before you pass out is the anxious voice of Marie calling out to you.
"Agent 4"
"Ag..ent..4"
"A...4"
——————————————————
You awake to the alarming scream of a party goer. "It's 9:30 PM, only a couple more hours left." Damn, you were losing time and quick. You needed to get out of this godforsaken place before you have a heart attack. You lift yourself off of the floor, realizing your body is farther from the door. There's a considerable amount of pain concentrated in your left cheek, and a nasty bruise placed a few inches away from your eyes. You also discover that your brand-new watch is missing from your wrist, some greedy asshole must've swiped it while you were unconscious. The brawl is absent from the room, but a large group of people still blocks the entrance. It was hopeless to try and get through there. You needed a different route, one that could get you out of this nightmare.
You dash up the stairwell that's hidden behind the excess of new year's banners, leaping over drunk corpses and shattered furniture. Pearl staggers out of the guest room, bearing a flashy cat outfit.
"Hey, nyah," Pearl playfully purrs.
Uh, what's going on with her. Maybe she's had one too many drinks tonight. It's best if I steer clear from this scenario and avoid encouraging this kind of behavior.
"I'm a helpless stray cat girl who requires a brave owner," Pearl says, nuzzling up against the side of your shoulder.
What the hell is even going on anymore? There's no tangible way to describe the bizarre events that have transpired tonight.
"Am I cute enough for you," Pearl queries as she raises one of her cat paws over her pointy ears.
You ignore her incessant babbling and plot a route towards the window. Departing from the roof seemed to be a treacherous peril, but could quickly be done with a few well-placed ink shots. You charge towards the glass exit, with a hope-filled mindset. Pearl jumps out in front of you and prevents your escape.
"Ufufu," Pearl laughs mischievously. "You're not getting out that window, not on my watch," Pearl says, spreading her arms from wall to wall.
You inspect the area, looking for any useful tools. You notice a small sewing kit sitting in the adjacent bedroom.
"Fuwafuwa, your all mine," Pearl mutters, wrestling with your arm once again.
You extend your arm and snag an item next to the assortment of needles and twine. You then lob your newly acquired ball of yarn at the floor. "Kyaa," Pearl cries, pouncing at the ball of fiber. "Dang, you outsmarted me nayh. You win this round."
You open the latch to the window and shuffle along the shingles, trying your best to maintain your balance. Suddenly, a pair of blue and red lights illuminate the night sky. Oh no, this wasn't good. If anything, you weren't going to spend the night in a cell. You gently spin your feet clockwise and scrape your shoes against the matte material, knocking off bits of gravel. You totter to the window and prop yourself up using the wooden frame. More hobbling ensues as you move to the edge of the roof.
Buried in the gutters are several volleyballs and pool floaties launched from party guests below. You peek over the archway and observe the surrounding backyard. There's a massive pool supplied with blaring lights and loud music.
Marina and the other partygoers are engaged in a heated volleyball tournament. Marina sports a revealing bikini and a pair of LED shutter glasses. However, her party animal attitude quickly diminishes as she spots you on top of the ledge. "Is that you Agent 4? What are you doing up there? I knew you were a fun guy, but I never expected you to be this crazy."
News of the police reaches the populated backyard and the people in the pool scramble into the forest.
"We can't stay here. Follow me; I know a great place we can hide," Marina proposes.
How am I going to get down from here in the first place?
"Just jump into the pool, imagine you were jumping from a diving board. Don't worry; it's a freshwater pool, so you won't disintegrate," Marina notifies.
Well, that's reassuring.
A wave of fear and hesitation leads you to rethink your current options. Maybe there's another way; there has to be another choice here.
Pearl emerges from behind you, "Kyun, my heartbeat longs for you, Agent 4."
Yep, the pool is the only option.
After taking in multiple large breaths, you proceed to drop off the edge of the house. You crunch your body into a small defensive ball, before plunging into the cold deep void.
"CANNONBALL," Marina shouts, admiring your courage.
"Splash." Your body sinks below the pool's chilly surface, and a dark figure promptly rescues you from the endless vacuum. Marina drags you to the pool ladder and props your body upon the concrete. You spit out a glob of water as she presses down her medically trained fingers on your chest.
"How did I do? I just learned how to perform CPR properly," Marina clarifies.
I'm sure she'll make a great nurse someday.
The squadron of police infiltrates the backyard. You and Marina book it into the nearby cluster of trees. The police's german shrimpherds swiftly leap over the fallen trees, giving hot pursuit to any sluggish party-goers. Marina pulls you aside to hide under an inclined rock. You wait for the police officers and sea dogs to disperse from the area before resuming your journey.
• You ask Marina for the time on her smartphone.
"Oh, it just hit 10:20 PM, why do you ask," Marina queries.
• You explain to Marina your mission to see Callie at her apartment.
"Okay, I'm sure I can get you there on time. But we should rest first. You look like you've been through quite a bit, judging by that big gash on the side of your face."
You forgot all about that unfortunate encounter; you were most likely blocking it from your memory. You start to reminisce with Marina about the odd occurrences that took place prior.
"Can we get out of here; you can inform me of your obscene party experience on the way. It's getting pretty cold, and this bathing suit isn't doing a great job of keeping me warm."
Oh yeah, sorry.
As your walking into the frozen depths of the isolated woodland, you delve into detail about the bizarre events that you witnessed earlier. A drinking game gone wrong, being knocked out in a fistfight, and even encountering a feline dressed acquaintance. Marina didn't seem phased by the odd incidents, laughing at the thought.
You'd finally met a sane person to interact with. Someone not pushing you into risky games or cat based endeavors. It was a nice change of pace to be taking a lovely stroll through the quiet groves and holding a friendly conversation with someone you knew.
Maybe this was what Marie meant by making more friends. Talking to Marina was the perfect way to alleviate the stress of this pitiful night. I guess going to this party wasn't pointless after all.
You eventually arrive at Marina's small apartment that's buried at the end of the street. Seeing the house from a distance brought back a sense of familiarity. It was a safe place you felt comfortable to take refuge in.
Marina opens the door and grants you passage into her residence. An ornate clock sitting above the fireplace depicts the current time - 10:40 PM. You sink into the old-fashioned love seat positioned to the right of the Christmas tree. The tree was in the same state from when you decorated it with Marie, Pearl, and Marina. The star retained it's beautiful fluorescent glow, drawing most guest's eyes to the center of the room.
Marina pops open a bottle of wine stored on the wine rack. She pours the crimson drink into a traditional glass and quickly downs the alcohol.
"Now, this is my kind of drink: no more gross beer or scotch," Marina discloses, as she gulps another shot.
Before long, Marina is utterly intoxicated by the sudden surge of liquor. Her cheeks bear a bright red hue, and her posture begins to waver. You realize you've made a grave mistake by not limiting her alcohol intake.
Who was going to drive you to Callie's place now?
"We don't... hic... have to go anywhere. Let's just stay hic... here."
She jiggles her car keys in your face as she wobbles into the kitchen, signaling for you to follow. She's still in her lime green bikini even after she's had plenty of opportunities to change into something more comfortable.
You don't have time for this. You have to get to Callie.
When you go into the kitchen, you try to enforce your desire to meet Callie and your lack of patience to play along with her shenanigans.
Marina takes a step towards you, staring intensely into your eyes. She plants her fingers on your shoulders and brings her body closer to yours.
Uh...what's she doing. No it can't be. Is she seriously trying to make a move on me? Maybe there's something in my hair that she's trying to pick out, or perhaps she's just cold.
She rubs her breasts together, "Do you wanna have a peek."
UHHH, what. What the fuck is happening. No, no, no, I gotta get out of this. She's just shitface drunk and doesn't know what she's doing. Yeah, she's probably just confused. Come on, alcohol makes people do weird things all the time; this is no different.
You attempt to wiggle your way out of her tight grasp, but she continues to push her breasts against your torso. You try your hardest not to look down at her chest.
Dammit man, what are you doing? You like Callie. You should've backed away the moment she touched you.
You force her body away from you, indicating your lack of interest.
"Oh no no, If you don't do this with me, I'll scream bloody murder to the whole neighborhood. I saw you checking me out earlier, so you're definitely going to enjoy this. Now close your eyes and pucker up those lips."
You're left in complete shock as you attempt to unravel your current predicament. Was she really doing this? A minute ago she was the kindest person in the world, but now she's...
You close your eyes.
This wouldn't mean anything. You liked Callie, and you wouldn't feel any joy from this kiss.
You're expecting a soft feeling to grace your lips, but instead...
A sharp pain pierces through your stomach.
Arrrggghhh, ahh, arrghh. The pain felt so immense that you struggled to breathe. You felt as if your insides were being twisted into multiple torturous knots.
You open your eyes and witness an unfathomable sight. There's a kitchen knife lodged in your chest. Marina is at the end of the weapon, with a demented smile plastered on her face. Was this real? Was this really happening? This scene was straight out of a nightmare.
"You had to go and break her heart," Marina mumbles, with her face hanging low.
Who the hell... argh... is she talking about?
"If it wasn't obvious, Pearl has a crush on you. She would try everything in her power to impress you; she'd wear cute outfits and act adorable in front of you. But you ignored her and chose Callie instead," Marina reveals.
You feel nauseous, as a red hot sensation swells around your abdomen. You examine the gaping wound with a level of caution. There are bits of flesh and bone that cover the region with a stream of blood trickling down the face of the blade.
"I was glad when you and Callie were avoiding each other. I thought it'd be the perfect opportunity for you and Pearl to get together. But you just had to go and make amends with Callie," Marina scorns.
"She just wanted to be with you. But you dashed her dreams to pieces."
She grips the hilt of the knife once more.
"You ruined my friend's life, you..."
She let's go of the blade, and her eyes become overtaken by tears.
You falter to the ground, coming in contact with a large pool of blood. Your vision begins to slowly deplete and the last thing you remember before blacking out is the unpleasant sensation of tasting your own blood.