The No End Game

A short story that I came up with after a very vivid dreams. This could possibly become an actual book, but that would take a lot more planning.

A massive crowd, too far away to see clearly, erupts in a deafening roar as I rise up into the Virtual Reality Arena, the VRA for short, on a smooth metal platform. All eyes are trained on me. I am only one person, and yet am I the center of attention of so many people, all at once. A familiar nervous feeling begins to rise in my stomach, and then I wonder… Will I ever get used to this?

“Greetings, ladies and gentlemen! Are you ready to watch another round?” A loud voice booms, buzzing in my ears even after it stops. I try to relax and stay calm as I always do, but it’s hard, just like it was hard all of the others times I went through this before today. The crowd cheers again in answer to the booming voice. I manage a smile.

“Then…let the game begin!” The voice exclaims loudly, and the crowd cheers again. A few seconds later, a buzzer, louder than all of the voices that fill the VRA, goes off and immediately after the ground begins to quake. I know what’s going to happen next, and yet I’m feelings more nervous than before, and even a little afraid. A rope and a miniature war hammer materialize at my side. And then, my enemy appears.

In an explosion of earth and dust, a massive centipede-like creature erupts from the earth a little ways away from me. It has no legs, so it slams down against the earth heavily making the ground shake, but I hold my ground. I hear the cheer of the crowd. I know they expect me to win.

Immediately, I run to the right. This enemy always chases directly after you, and due to its size and length, it isn’t very good at maneuvering.  I know first I must get behind it, but that means running a little ways out first. I hear it screech loudly behind me as I hurriedly continue on right and then straight down towards its rear, which is quickly following after the rest of the body.

“Wow! Look at him go, he looks like he knows what he’s doing, as usual!”  The loud voice’s words ring in my ears, and I instantly become more nervous, and I begin to sweat, not because I am running, but because I feel the expectations piling up already. If I don’t pull this off like I did all of those others time, if I loose, what will happen to me? I certainly won’t have this attention anymore, and maybe I’ll even be made fun of. And even if I do win, what if I take longer than I did last time? Will the crowd mock me as my Best Time on this particular enemy and my Current Time flash in bright red on the large screen that makes up the roof of the VRA, only to show I did worse than last time? I try to calm down and think clearly. If I don’t win this, I might be dead. It has always been that way.

Upon reaching the creature’s rear end, I take up the rope at my side and twirl it in the air almost on cue. I’ve done this a million times before, but then why is my heart pounding so loudly in my ears? Why do my hands threaten to loose their grip on the rope? Haven’t I done this enough times already to do this without a cinch? Even though I feel this way, my arm jerks forward and I expertly lasso onto one of the large spikes that protrude out of the beast’s squirming body. I pull once on the end of the rope still in my left hand and grab on with my right and I am pulled towards the spike at high speed, automatically.

After landing on its seemingly rock solid back, I hurriedly dash up the squirming body, leaving the rope behind, for I know I won’t be needing it anymore.

You have to be quick here, for if you take it slow and carefully pick your way across you will be thrown off immediately. The enemy shakes violently once every minute, and the only way to avoid falling off of its back is to run and jump at that moment and land again. It took me many tries to learn this method, but now I do it without having to think. But the voice in my head keeps whispering…What if I don’t land right next time? What if I just…fall off? What if I slip? What if I don’t succeed this time? And to not succeed is to ultimately die. This game means life or death. You could very well die in this game, but you play it knowing that fact, so even if you do die, there is no sympathy for you. You are a loser.

After landing from another jump, I finally reach the creature’s head. It is adorned in shining white spikes. It has one weakness on its entire body, and that is a soft patch on the back of its head, between two larger spikes which seem to be horns. That is where I will strike with the hammer. My hands grip the smooth cold handle of the weapon, and I feel beads of sweat gathering on my forehead immediately after. With just one movement I will defeat this enemy, and the crowd will cheer me on like every other time I have done this before. They will cheer my name, they will anticipate the next battle, and their expectations will become greater, as well as the increasingly unbearable weight on my shoulders.

The monster thrashes once more and screeches furiously. At that moment I jump one last time, war hammer gripped tightly, and as gravity forces my body back down, I swing the weapon directly at the weak spot between the horns at the back of the head, taking advantage of my own falling weight to drive the weapon in further.

“And he’s done it again! End game! We have a winner!” Shouts the voice noisily. The crowd erupts in a wild cheer of approval. They especially like it when you defeat your enemy with such precision and confidence. The more effortless you look, the more they will like you.

I hop off of the defeated beast and land heavily on the floor of the Arena. The virtual beast becomes pixilated and buzzes as if it is malfunctioning before exploding in a million pieces and disappearing in a flash. The crowd goes wild once more, and I raise my hand to wave at them with a friendly smile. The volume of their cheers increases.

 On the screen, it is revealed that I have beaten my record by two seconds. But that doesn't bring me joy, I only feel dread. Now they will expect me to beat this record next time, and if I beat it and get a new best record, they will expect me to beat that record as well. It’s not a relief for me anymore, only more weight added onto my shoulders. Maybe at one time in my career in this game I would have been just as happy as the people here to beat my own record, but not anymore, this game no longer brings me joy.

I am congratulated as I exit the arena to take my break before the next battle, where their expectations will rain down on me once more, and I will continue this never-ending game.

Author's Note

I don't think I really spent much time on this, but is it okay at least? Be brutally honest, I want to improve my sentence flow and writing skills. If you find any grammar mistakes, or find that something could be worded differently, let me know.