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HC:Pacifist | Ch. 1 - Leaving Prison
🕑 Added 2023-04-24 15:34:35 +0000 UTCRoth squinted as he came out through the prison door. His eyes took a few seconds to adjust to the bright daylight.
“Hurry up, you dumb fatso!” screamed one of the guards that was behind him. He was half as tall as Roth but did not seem afraid of him.
“I’m sorry,” replied Roth as he got moving again.
“Whatever. Just hurry up. The faster you leave this joint, the faster you will be someone else’s problem.”
Roth had been given the clothes he had on when he was thrown in here. Simple jeans, and a white T-shirt. They were good quality but nothing fancy. An Autumn breeze was blowing, and he felt the hairs in his arms stand up and shivers down his back. The guards herded him out of prison. Turning, he said goodbye to them.
“Thank you for bringing me out here, wardens.”
“Tsk. Whatever, man. Just stay out of trouble, you hear me?”
“Yes, sir,” said Roth. He felt like singing at the prospect of being outside for the first time, but the guard stared at him awkwardly. Roth wondered if he was waiting for him to respond to his provocation or if there was some sort of protocol that was still left to go through. After a few more disconcerting silent moments, the older warden sighed and walked away, followed by his younger colleague.
Roth left his eyes lingering on the jail where he had lived for the last four years. It was a stark fortress with barbed wire around the whole perimeter. Strange. The sky out here was the same as the one he saw through the bars of the window in his cell or the one he could see when they had some time out in the playground. But it felt wider and bluer here. It was a trick played by his mind. How could the same sky have different colors or sizes depending on what side of a wall you were on?
Done with nostalgia, Roth started to look around, trying to find whoever was coming to pick him up. He had sent a letter to his mother, and she said she would make arrangements for him. Poor mom. She didn’t drive. Maybe she had called for a cab, or one of his brothers had taken a day off work to pick him up.
“Slayer! I’ll be darned. It’s been too long!” Roth looked around and found the person calling him out from a distance. He was dressed casually, with a blue blazer over a green T-shirt. The man was lean but looked older than Roth remembered. He used to have long hair but now had a longer forehead and a neatly trimmed haircut. This was his old squad’s lieutenant, Wilson. Before Roth was sent to jail, they had played New Earth together. Now that he thought about it, he had no idea if that was still the most played MMORPG or if it was as popular as it used to be. Wilson had been his buddy in school, and they had joined the game together when it first came out back in the day. They had fought many battles shoulder to shoulder and had been good friends. Had been. Not anymore.
“Wilson? It’s you.” Roth was shocked. He’d never thought that Wilson would have wanted to see him again after what he had done. They hadn’t parted ways on good terms years ago.
“Ahaha. Captain! Look at you! Still big and scary as always.”
“Wilson…” Roth took an agile step forward and hugged Wilson. “I'm sorry, Wilson. I'm sorry.”
“Slayer, what in the world, man? You…”
“I'm sorry, Wilson. Because of me, I threw away all that you and the guys built. I lost my temper. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry.”
“Let go of me, Slayer. Let go of me.” Roth backed off, straightening his clothes up and clearing his throat. “Slayer, what happened to you, man? Since when do you cry or apologize?”
“Please, don’t call me that. Just call me Roth. I don’t want to be called the Slayer anymore.”
Wilson’s eyes widened. Roth could see he was having a hard time putting the words together. “You realize that you once broke my nose for not calling you Slayer. Can you promise me you won’t do that today?” Roth nodded.
“Yeah… I remember that. That was uncalled for. Sorry, Wilson.”
“Captain, you seem… different.”
“I know. I know. Thank you for picking me up, Wilson.” Wilson turned abruptly when he heard him say thank you. For him to react so strongly to these little things just went on to show how much of a jerk he was. Roth tried to move the conversation along. “Did ma ask you to come?”
“Uhh... Come on. I'll explain it to you inside the car.”
“OK, Wilson. You lead the way.”
As the car took off, Roth noticed that Wilson avoided making eye contact. Was it because he had embarrassed him? Now that he thought about it, embracing him in tears might have been too much too soon. He sighed. The joy of leaving prison was fading too fast.
“Roth, your mother called and asked me to pick you up. She did that because she wanted me to tell you she doesn’t want to see you anymore.”
“What?” asked Roth with a sick feeling in his stomach. “What? Why? In her letters… in her letters, she said… she said it'd be OK if I moved in with her.” Roth felt dizzy and an unpleasant tingling in his skin.
“Well, what can I say, Roth? She’s changed her mind. What you've done to your father is something that she thought she could get over, but she can’t. She can’t forgive you. You know how upset he was when you were arrested.” Roth felt his world crumbling underneath him. He had thought that he had come to terms with his father’s passing and that he had made peace with his mom, even if only by letter. Even his brothers seemed to have forgiven him. Why would they build his hopes up only to destroy him like this? He started to sob.
“Hey. Hey. Don’t get angry. Calm down. Calm down. Don’t worry, Roth. You'll be taken care of. I got you covered. I did quite alright for myself, you see. I have rented a room for you and even bought a top-tier capsule for a new game that came out a couple of years ago. It’s kind of like New Earth but a bit more complex. Everyone’s playing it now. You can make a living in gaming just as you used to. Your life will return to what it was before you know it. Just don’t freak out. Remember that I'm driving.”
Roth was too broken to explain to Wilson that he wasn’t angry. These were tears of sadness, not of anger. What he said about his mother and father had hit him hard. He felt like a glass jar carefully pieced together after being broken, only to fall to the floor again and shatter into even smaller pieces.
“Hey, Slay… I mean, Roth. Don’t worry. Your mother probably needs some time. I'll get you all set up, and you'll see that everything will return to how it used to be.”
“I can’t accept your money, Wilson. I ruined the guild. What I did cost you millions od credits. I can’t in good conscience ask for anything else from you. Besides, I don’t think I have it in me to return to doing what I used to. It’s not good for my mental health.”
“What in the world are you talking about? What is this mental health nonsense?”
Roth didn’t reply, letting out a few more tears.
“Come on, Roth. It’s like riding a bike. Your gaming instincts are top-notch. You'll get back into it before you know it. You can make a decent living in the game.” Roth felt that what Wilson was saying was all being spoken underwater. He heard the words but couldn’t get their meaning.
“Listen, man, it’s fine. As I told you, I'm not having any money problems.” In the back of his mind, Roth found it strange that Wilson was saying this while still driving his crappy old car. It was all too much. Seeing Wilson, and being told about his mother, had opened up old wounds.
After ten minutes of driving, they made it to an apartment building. It was a cookie-cutter housing project that one could find in many of the poorer neighborhoods in town.
“I know it’s not much, but it'll do until you get back on your feet.”
Roth sheepishly followed Wilson as he took him into the apartment. It was dingy and moist, and it only had one bedroom. When Roth put his duffel bag on the bed, it squeaked loudly. Roth’s quarters in prison were nicer than this.
“Let me show you to the gaming pod!” said Wilson excitedly.
“Wilson, I’m not sure I even want to return to gaming, man. It did me no good to spend all those hours inside a VR environment.”
“Come on, Roth, you know how expensive this thing was. I went to great lengths to ensure you have what you need to get back on your feet. The very least you can do for me is to give it a go.”
“I don’t know, Wilson. I'm a different person now. I don’t want to play those violent games anymore.”
“What in the world has happened to you? Have you become a monk or something? You’re the Slayer! The bloodthirsty berserker!”
“I don’t want to, Wilson.”
“Come on, Roth. You owe me.” At the mention of owing, Roth looked up at Wilson and found him staring at him angrily. Roth gulped. He only knew how much debt he had left to his former squad. He could only imagine the hardships they had gone through because of him. He let out a deep sigh.
“Of course, Wilson. It’s the least I can do. I'll try the gaming pod.”
Wilson returned to his cheerful self. “Wonderful! Wait until you see these graphics, man. They are insane. The game that is on the rage right now is AstroTerra. It’s an MMORPG not too different from New Earth, but it has a cool new concept with alignments. You are going to love it, I promise you.
The gaming pods are also excellent. You can smell what’s around you and feel pain, just like in the real world. You can’t tell the difference between inside the game and outside. The cool thing is that you can sleep inside these new pods. You can sleep twenty-four hours a day with no problem!”
Roth didn’t feel like playing games now. Games had ruined his life and were a trigger for him. He just wanted to live peacefully and do some good in his life. But he had done unspeakable things to Wilson; the least he could do was humor him for a while. He had found him an apartment and everything.
“Step in, Roth!” Roth moved into the pod. The inside of the sleek metal pod was made of soft gel. Roth felt like he was hanging in the air. “You gotta admit. Cool, uh?”
“Yeah.”
“Create a quick character just to try things out. I've got a VR helmet in the car. I'll go get it quick and join you.” Roth remembered that VR helmets were portable devices that allowed one to play the game, albeit without the realism that a pod provided.
“Sure,” sighed Roth.
“Quick. What name will you give your character?”
“Just Roth.”
“OK. Choose Greenfield Village as a starting point. I'll come and show you the ropes.”
“Fine.”
“I'll see you soon, Roth.”
Wilson closed the lid of the pod and waited for all the lights to turn on. The pod was activated, and his sight went dark.
Wilson sighed in relief. He had been terrified for every second of the trip. He thought Roth would go on a rampage when he mentioned that his mom didn’t want to see him. The Roth he used to know would beat him into a pulp in the blink of an eye. But from now on, he was safe. Roth's nervous system had been linked to the capsule, and he could only move inside the game. He was locked out of reality and at their mercy. It was time for some payback.
Wilson picked up the phone.
“Gary, it’s done. I got him into the tampered capsule. He is all ours.”
