Music thrummed throughout the crevices of my ears; my foot tapped absentmindedly at the cement curb as I waited at the sidewalk. It was mid-summer, and it was a rather warm day, so I felt a small amount of sweat build upon my brow. I only lived a couple of blocks away from the local hobby shop, a nerdy store that was hidden away between a trendy café and a rather low-end fashion boutique.
I tugged at the straps of my backpack; a childish excitement rushed throughout my veins as I awaited that red light to turn green. All that stopped me from having a couple of hours of fun as I roleplay as my Cyberpunk 2020 PC was the busy street before me. The traffic was hectic, cars speeding along the main street of my rather large country town, so much so that even the thought of jaywalking was a one-way ticket to the pearly gates above.
It was the busy tourist season, with sight-seekers all around me, but with my headphones plugged in, I couldn't even hear the zooming cars before me, let alone the voices of the busy crowd around me. All that nonsense was blocked out by Nickel Back's greatest hits. The light ahead of me finally turned green, the green man walking stationary and all I had to do was follow his lead. I walked onto the street without hesitation, never really thinking anything about it.
It never really occurred to me that I was only allowed safe passage by the whims of the drivers around me. It was the kind of trust that was built up over my rather short life, born from the laws that protected me and the kindness of the people behind the wheel. It never really occurred to me that I had a chance of being ran over whenever I mimicked the little green man within the traffic lights.
It never occurred to me that I could die. I had waited for the light to turn green, and looked both ways, so I didn't really understand why I felt something round and hard slam into my knees at a tremendous speed. I felt something crack within my legs before I felt that my legs were swept up from under me. I didn't hear any sounds of bones breaking, because why would I? I had Nickle back singing Some Day loudly through my ears.
The pain hit me like a fucking truck, and I screamed that very instant. It was a primal sound that threatened to rip open the back of my throat, the pain at the back of my throat only added to my suffering. The pain from my legs was far too much to handle- it felt like some kind of molten liquid was trapped within my legs, burning everything around my legs. I didn't really understand the situation, nor what had happened to my legs. I turned my head and spied the glint of red paint, and the face of a young adult before a brown leather wheel, and what looked like a woman bent over at his lap. It was then that it had hit my brain full force that I had been ran over.
'How the hell'd we end up like this?
And why weren't we able.'
Despite my broken legs and girlish screams, it seemed that the driver of the car had decided to keep moving forward- his expression panicked and full of fear. They picked up the speed and I rolled over the bonnet, slamming into the glass with all my momentum, screaming all the while. Whilst the world around me was spinning around my eyes, my brain bouncing wildly within my skull, I felt a sudden pain within my chest not unfamiliar from the one currently coming from my legs. I was pretty sure that it was one of my many ribs breaking under the force of slamming into the windshield, but I was already in so much pain that a few more broken bones couldn't really make me scream any harder.
The car didn't stop, though, despite my cries and what I had thought to be a slightly cracked windshield. They young man pushed the gas pedal some more, and I was flung over their small car roof, rolling down back of the car and bouncing off the car trunk before I slammed into the asphalt below headfirst. My world went dark, and so did my mind. Only for a moment though, so the black out I had experienced seemed to be only a few seconds at most. I had thought that I had died, but it seemed that despite the pain I was in, I was still alive.
Sure, I was pretty sure that I was still screaming, but I couldn't be sure since Chad Kroeger was halfway through his tune, singing about someday making it up to some random girl. However, despite having found solid ground at last, I couldn't move a muscle- not so much as my pinkie followed my command. In fact, I didn't know why I was still screaming, since I couldn't feel anything below my neck….Oh shit. Oh fuck.
I tried to not panic and pushed that dangerous line of thought deep into the back of my mind. I could barely see, since half my vision was dark, and the other half was dyed as red as fresh blood. However, despite the tinted vision, I could make out that there was a small red, meaty object just half a foot away. All I could move was my head, and not very much, since I had landed facedown, so I tried to make out what that object with what little vision I had left. My head was numb, as if my brain had been covered by a heavy blanket- the type designed to deal with fires. The lack of pain allowed me to solely focus on that object of my inquiries, so my paralysis seemed to be a small mercy. At least, for the short term. That's when I realised what this dark red, meaty object truly was- and the consequences of it.
Oh, that's my tongue. OH SHIT! THAT'S MY FUCKING TONGUE!
It had seemed that in my impact with the ground after getting ran over, that I had bitten down on my tongue a tad too hard and severed it. Now that I was aware of it, I noticed that there was a bright red foam that had dribbled from my mouth to the asphalt, creating a small pool of red foam. The reason why I had stopped screaming wasn't because of the lack of pain, but because I wasn't able to make an audible sound.
Ah, I'm fucked.
Nickel Back finished their song, and my vision became clouded by dark spots. It was almost poetic, that my life was destined to end the moment my favourite song had finished. I had never really thought about death, and I most definitely didn't want to die. However, with my ability to speak and move normally ruined, I had no choice but to accept my death. I couldn't beg for help, and I couldn't crawl to safety- there was no escaping this. Death had his scythe ready at my throat and I was only a few moments from an untimely death. I had never felt so defenceless.
I had never felt so pathetic.
Plea… Please…. I… I… I… don… don't… die….
"What a saddening sight. An absolute tragedy, for one such as young as you are, child."
Before I was greeted by what laid after life, I heard a quiet voice that I could only describe as cold. The air around me had turned chilly and I found that I couldn't even move my mouth. The foamy blood that left my mouth like a river halted, and the dark blotches around my vision stopped in their place. It was almost impossible to hear my own thoughts, mostly due to the sheer amount of blood I had lost, and mostly due to whatever supernatural occurrence that had taken place. I couldn't really think, speak nor could I hear very well- I felt like I was somewhere in between life and death. Hell, even Nickle Halted there tunes whilst in the presence of this cold being.
I felt the chilly air get close, and even though I couldn't move an inch, I wanted to shiver from the coldness that pierced through my clothes. A heard the sound of my backpack zipper being pulled open, and I felt a pair of ghastly hands ruffle throughout my backpack. I heard my drink bottle fall from its cage and smash into the ground; the dull, muted metal echoed throughout the deathly quiet environment. A pencil case followed, and after a few moments, the hands suddenly stopped and gripped the stack of old, print on demand Cyberpunk 2020 rulebooks and Supplements that I had stuffed within the backpack for today's campaign. Despite lack of thoughts and dulled world around me, I heard the sound of a couple thousand pages of paper when sifted through within only a few seconds.
"Hmm, yes. This could be quite interesting world to see play out. So many interesting characters, and a grounded system of power that I haven't seen before. Children from worlds like yours often desire fantastical worlds of swords and sorcery at best, or something ordinary like the world you were born in at worst. Naturally, worlds such as those I rarely create at present, you can only watch so many high school dramas or magical adventures before they all become dull, for lack of a better word. But it seems that this 'Cyberpunk 2020' could be a lot of fun, at least, for the foreseeable future.
"Better yet, it's based off your own world's history, only diverging two hundred years ago, so it shouldn't take me too long to build it, and that time can be shortened because of the lore these 'rulebooks' provide as a template. Yes, yes- this could work, this could quell my boredom for a little while. It is fascinating, I can hardly wait, Oh… I almost forgot about you in my excitement. What should be done with you?
"Hmm. Our meeting was one of chance, but you have brought forth something so grand that it could entertain someone as long lived as I. An impressive feat, to be sure- even if made possible by the negligence cast by fate and destiny upon peoples as insignificant as you. Yes, one by chance, but it is a fruitful one, nonetheless. How shall I reward you? A second life is a guarantee, and an easy feat for someone wielding as much power as I, but with the greatness you have gifted me, as miniscule as it is, that only brings us to a less than equal standing. My pride shall not have that, so I believe that an additional reward is required, but what shall be done.
"There are an infinite number of rewards I could bequeath. However, I can't give someone as weak-willed as you godlike power, nor could I give some random mortal I found in some backwater world too large a boon. I have a reputation amongst my peers to uphold after all. Hm. A tricky situation indeed. Well, children of the vast worlds I had visited that are just like your own often wish to be teleported to another world. So, just planting your mind in an newly-created, genetically identical body within the setting of this 'Cyberpunk 2020' shall allow you your second chance at life, and of course, allowing you access to the 'rules' of this to-be-created world shall be you second boon.
"It's ironic, isn't it- you played this world through pen and paper, creating an infinite number of realities and stories within this 'game', and now you get to live your second life within the world that was written within your little rulebooks. I shall use the character sheet you had only just forged a couple of nights ago as the spiritual code of you new body, to allow the 'summoning' to be easy on both your mind and soul. Although child, my boons aren't without a cost to preserve the grand tasks that my peers and I partake, I cannot allow you to retain the knowledge of our existence. Naturally, the memories of both your untimely death and our subsequent meeting shall be purged from your mortal coil.
"I hope that we never met like this again, Elijah Hobbs, because you won't be so lucky once more. I will, of course, occasional check in on my latest creation to amuse myself, so your progress, whether awesome or lame, shall be of some…
minorinterest. So, for the sake of my entertainment I wish you well. After all, it would dampen the fun ever so slightly if you were to perish too soon."
I could barely comprehend him, I could barely hear him- I had lost to much blood, and whatever miracle that had keep me alive was beginning to end. I could feel the wind blow through my dirty brown locks of hair, and the blood from my mouth continued to flow onto the ground once more. The darkness began its cruel campaign against my vision, and the numbness within my head became too much.
Before I lost consciousness, I felt that same chilly hand reach into my pocket and place something within.
The very next second, I felt myself fall upwards.