Chapter 2: Ready Player One
Where the fuck am I? Was the first question to register in the mind of the 14 year old boy currently lying facedown on the cold forest floor. He sat up while rubbing the sleep from his tired eyes.
Got to think. Got to think. What happened last? School. Ah yes, I was at school. Gunfire. Panic. Vengeance. Vengeance for a fallen friend. A fallen brother. A blood curdling scream. A bloody scissors grasped tightly in a trembling hand.
Memories came rushing back as screams of agony flowed from the boy filling the previously still forest air. The screaming slowly subsided as black began to obscure the boy's vision and the unnatural silence again overtook the surrounding forest.
The boy regained consciousness several hours later with the once glowing skyline now beginning to fade vaguely hinting at the impending dark now poised to overtake the land.
I need to find shelter. The boy thought as he crawled to his feet and began to observe his surroundings, all thoughts of the past now muted as his instincts to survive kicked in. He soon realized he was in a lush, green forest filled with inconceivably tall trees. The forest floor was covered in tall grass not unlike that of which covered the plains and valleys where he grew up.
Amidst his gazing through the thick underbrush, the boy noticed a clearing less than 250 feet ahead. As he made his way through the foliage he could make out the purple outline of what appears to be...what the hell is that doing here.
The boy, moving quickly now in order to confirm a suspicion he now had in the quickest possible manner, was now sprinting through the leaves and grass at top speed.
As he hurdled over bush upon bush and low hanging tree branch upon low hanging tree branch at the break neck speed initially set at the start of his little run, he soon began closing in on his intended destination.
Now only a mere 20 feet from his intended target, one last jump to make and….his foot snagged on a tree branch and sent him tumbling out of the dim forest and into the light filled clearing.
Quickly getting to his feet after that suave display of agility, the boy was filled him with delight mixed with a subtle hint of confusion towards the subject of his gaze.
A purple pickup sat in the center of the clearing. HIS purple quarter ton pickup sat in the center of the clearing.
So that's here with me now too, apparently. I guess you decided to not totally screw me today, huh universe?
At that moment, as if out of sheer spite for the boy, a creature vaguely resembling a werewolf stalks out of the trees on the other side of the clearing smelling for a scent still not aware of the boy's presence. Now crouching low to avoid being scene, the boy takes a closer look at the creature.
Jet black fur, a bonelike mask on its face along with multiple spines of the same material along its body, and worst of all, those beady, red, soulless eyes filled with enough raw hatred to send a chill through his spine.
One day of football practice don't fail me now! The boy thinking as his impulses took over and he grabbed a rock from the ground and chucked it as high and as far as he could into the woods beyond the terrifying wolf monster.
The rock smacked with a loud *crack* high in a tree a solid 30 feet deep within the trees. The beast quickly turned in the direction of the sounds before dashing off to investigate leaving the quick witted boy alone in the clearing now cringing from a sudden soreness in his shoulder.
Pulling up his shirt sleeve he discovered a scarred over bullet entry wound on the front side of his body and a bullet exit wound on the opposite side near his shoulder blade. Well that's new. He thought to himself before quickly pushing the thought out of his head and returning his attention to the matter at hand. Survival.
The boy slowly made his way to the driver's side door of the pickup while still maintain his crouched form. Just as he made it to the side of the truck, he quickly inches his eyes above the side so he was now looking where the monster had previously been. No sign of him, good.
Slinking back down into a crouched position, the boy tried the door handle. To his dismay, it was locked. Panic began to set in as the boy realized he may have no silent way to ever ent-...oh wait keys.
He again crawled towards the back of the truck, glancing over at the tree line again before opening up the gas tank cover and retrieving a single chrome key sealed in a ziplock bag and taped to the inside of the cover. Grabbing the key, the boy then crawled back to the door, inserted the key, and unlocked the door with a satisfying *click*.
After unlocking the vehicle the boy quickly scanned his surroundings before quickly opening the door, throwing himself into the seat and pressing the lock button with a content sigh. Safe at last.