WilliamDArand
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Who Remains -CH1-
🕑 Added 2019-12-12 00:02:35 +0000 UTC
Paul didn’t really quite know how to handle the “end of the world” as it was.
A number of players ran around and got virtually drunk, stoned, or on murder-fests that left entire NPC locations devoid of a population.
None of that really appealed to Paul though. Not one bit of it.
For him, the end had happened so long ago that it didn’t matter anymore. None of it mattered. It was all the same
Sniffing once, Paul looked down to his hands and brought the tip of his wood chisel closer to the wood he was working on.
Digging the corner in slightly he curled it around and then tapped the butt of it with a thumb. The small chunk of wood he’d managed to peel out of the corner of the doll’s eye came free with a click.
Ignoring the timer that was eternally counting down to the left side of his screen, Paul continued going about his work.
That was all that was left to him anymore.
“-going to snort so much cocaine before we leave!” screamed a woman sprinting by him at full speed.
And that sums it up, doesn’t it?
Paul shook his head with a sigh that was more like a groan and stood up. Moving out of his front porch he went back inside where it was considerably more quiet.
It was also locked to any and every other player. He wouldn’t be bothered unless he felt like letting someone in.
Dropping his chisel down next to the rest of his tools Paul laid the nearly finished doll’s head in a basket near the table. There were a number of projects just like the one he’d been tending to there.
“Doesn’t even matter, does it,” Paul groused, stomping through his living room and into his hallway. He hesitated as he crossed the threshold of a bedroom and passed it.
Then he stopped and looked down to his feet.
Turning around he moved back to the door and opened it. Pushing it open slowly he peered inside.
It was exactly as his grand-daughter had left it the day she died.
From the mess of clothes on the ground, to the unmade bed, it was a shrine of sorts.
Paul hadn’t moved on.
Wouldn’t.
He’d simply chosen to become a grave-marker for her of sorts and let his timer run out. Lacking the bravery to end it himself, he was only waiting anymore.
Turning away from the empty room, Paul yanked the door shut, slamming it harder than he intended.
Growling he marched back into his living room and dropped into one of the wooden rocking chairs he’d made himself.
Finally, he turned his head and looked to the timer.
It had only twenty seconds left. When it hit zero, everyone would be able to log out of the game they’d been locked away on for the better part of five years. Trying to beat it or wait for the outside to hack their way into it.
In the end, that’s exactly what’d happened. No one beat the game. Some rather smart young woman had blasted through it and created a back-door into the programming.
No matter how smart you are, there’s always someone smarter.
Watching the timer, Paul did nothing as it hit zero.
Right at this moment, every player in the entirety of the game would be logging out during this window. This small opening in the code-locked software that would allow everyone to successfully get out.
Paul, did nothing still.
In fact, his plan was to let it go well beyond zero. To the point that he’d be lost when they unplugged it and sent him to his final destination.
Where-ever that might be.
Except the end never came.
Looking to the clock around the mini-map in the corner of his view, Paul saw it was now ten minutes past the exit gate’s timed opening.
Then twenty minutes.
Thirty.
An hour.
The end never came.
Nothing changed. Nothing happened.
Paul sat alone in his house, in the shrine dedicated to his dead grand-daughter, with nothing but his hand made dolls.
***
“Mr. Cooper?”
Startling awake, Paul looked around himself. He was sitting in his living room, in his rocking chair.
“Must’ve… dozed off,” Paul mumbled. “Did I miss the-”
Looking to the timer, he saw it was flashing a alternating red and blue set of zeros.
“Mr. Cooper. We need you to proceed to the exit gate,” said the same voice Paul had heard earlier.
“No,” Paul said, realizing he hadn’t slept through anything. He was exactly where he remembered himself to be. “You just go ahead and pull the plug now. I’m not going nowhere. This’ll be the end for me as easy as could be.
“You and your talking heads swore up and down that everyone who died just had their mind go blank, so, do that. Blank me already.”
“Uh… we can’t do that… Mr. Cooper. We really need you to proceed to the exit gate so we can shut down the entire server,” said the man.
“Then just shut it down already. Get your fingers out of your ears you damn loaf of bread. You can hear me, can’t you?” Paul asked irritably.
“Loaf of… what?” asked what could only be a government technician.
“Shut-the-game-off. You miserable excuse for your daddy’s waste. Your mom should have swallowed you. Shut-it-down,” Paul yelled at the ceiling.
“I… what?” asked the technician.
Sighing, Paul made a vague hand gesture at nothing and decided he’d just ignore the technician. Talking to him wouldn’t do him any good and it was only aggravating him.
“Mr. Cooper. We’ve been able to preserve you through all of this. I swear you’ll come back to a body just as you remember it,” said the technician.
“Look. You don’t get it. It’s not my body, or my age, or anything else. I just don’t care. So just… flip the switch already,” Paul said.
He’d been sixty five when he’d gone into the game and would be about seventy now.
Not like I really had much else to do.
Or family.
Just… just…
Paul’s mind made a strong u-turn and fled away from the mere thought of his grand-daughter.
The technician finally went silent.
Leaving Paul to contemplate how it was finally going to end. That he’d hit the great beyond and be absolutely nothing more.
Closing his eyes, Paul had only one regret. He had a number of dolls he wouldn’t be able to finish. Most of them never even having been able to experience anything.
“Pity about Tess,” Paul muttered aloud. “She was turning out real well.”
As if drawn to the thought of the doll, Paul turned his head and looked to the corner.
Sitting there on the ground was a life-sized female half-giant. Standing eight-foot tall with dark brown hair that came down to her shoulders, she looked almost as if she were sleeping. Her head resting against the wall, her body in a general state of lifelessness.
Originally she’d been commissioned by the head of the mage guild to act as a golem and body guard, but then the back-door had been made.
There was no point to even working at the game after that.
Having been fashioned from “Living Wood”, the golem would have become an actual living breathing NPC as soon as he finished her. Flesh, bone, blood, and all.
All it would have taken more was a “Living Soul” item.
Those were easy to obtain from most anything. The difficulty was getting a soul that matched the golem being made.
Right about the same time Paul over-spent to purchase a half-giant’s living soul was when everyone collectively gave up.
“Sorry,” Paul said with a shrug of his shoulders at Tess. She’d been the single most complicated golem he’d made so far. It’d taken a significant amount of time, materials, and actual expertise in his crafting skill to do it.
“Hello, Mr. Cooper,” said a new voice Paul didn’t recognize.
“Fuck you, pull the plug,” Paul growled.
“I… we cannot ‘pull the plug’ as it were, Mr. Cooper,” said whoever it was.
“Why the hell not? Seems simple. Walk over, kick over whatever computer this thing is on, and be done with it,” said Paul. “Or do you not have feet?”
“We can’t do that because we’d be killing you. That’d be murder,” said the man. “Self assisted suicide isn’t legally something we can do and… and the people overseeing the project know the name of every single user. They’re well aware you’re alive and haven’t left.”
“That’s nice. I’m giving you tacit approval. Just… go kick the server or whatever it is,” Paul said again, feeling slightly unnerved by the way the conversation was going.
“We can’t,” said the voice again. “As I said. It’d be… well, it’d be murder. And we can’t legally be responsible for that.”
“You can’t… you can’t… legally be responsible… for it,” repeated Paul. “Do you have any idea how idiotically insipid and simple that sounds given everything you’ve fucked up?”
“Be that as it may, Mr. Cooper, we cannot pull the plug. Please exit through the portal and we can then turn the game off,” said the voice.
“So you’re telling me, I have to get get eaten by something, or leave,” Paul said.
“I’m afraid that we can’t-”
“Right, eaten then. Or jump off a building or something,” Paul said.
Getting up out of his chair he walked over to the front door, catching a reflection of himself in the mirror next to the frame.
The young face of himself at twenty-five stared back at him. Short cropped black hair, dark brown eyes, and a face that could turn an eye if it smiled.
Paul looked away from himself and jerked the door open, marching outside.
“Mr. Cooper, if we could-”
“Shut the fuck up,” Paul growled as he started to walk down the street. “Or I’ll take the system volume down to zero and you can talk at dead air.”
Whoever the new technician was that he’d gotten went quiet now. They clearly didn’t want to push Paul any further than he was already.
Nodding his head Paul headed straight for the edge of the tutorial city.
Here, he’d spent almost all of his time. Before before and after everything went wrong. It was a simpler area, with simpler NPCs, and no requirements at any time for world questing.
Moving out the gate manned by a single guard and into the field beyond Paul kept stoking at his courage.
He’d been too afraid to do this before, but if he wanted to remain here, this’d be how he did it.
Walking right up to what was named “wolf” Paul slapped it across the face.
With a yelp it turned and promptly bit down on Paul’s arm.
Cursing at the sudden and rather sharp pain of being chewed on, Paul instinctively lashed out at the creature. Punching it repeatedly across the face.
As it was a tutorial area, it didn’t take more than three hits to actually end the stupid monster’s life.
Growling in annoyance Paul stamped his feet, kicked the corpse of the wolf and proceed to throw a bit of a tantrum.
“Mr. Cooper, if you could just-”
Paul yelled at the sky and opened up his options window. Before the man could say anything more Paul slid the bar to zero.
He heard nothing from anything in any way. He was deaf to everything now.
Okay, fine. Jump off of something.
Cursing under his breath, not being able to hear anything he actually said, Paul started toward the closest mountain. It was only a few hours walk away, he could make it in no time at all.
This was nothing compared to hauling wood to carve and work with.
***
Standing at the top of the cliff, Paul peered down the side of it. The distance looked like more than enough to simply kill him with it. There’d be no need for second attempts, the pain would be minimal, and he imagined that it’d be the definition of swift.
Kicking lightly at a rock Paul sent it soaring out over the edge toward the rocks below.
When it hit the bottom, he was denied the satisfaction of hearing it.
Nodding his head once he opened up his system window and turned on sound once more.
“-said what are you doing?” asked a voice from behind him.
Spinning in place Paul lost his footing and slammed into the cliff edge, his fingers digging into the grass and rocks.
Wide eyed, his heart pounding, Paul found himself staring up at a woman wearing little better than a very terribly uncomfortably looking linen woven baggy shirt and pants.
She had dark black hair, light green colored eyes, and a fair complexion.
Above her head floated a very unassuming name.
Mountain Hermit
“Oh, hello there,” said the very obvious NPC. “Are you alright? Do you need a hand?”
“Ah… yes? Yes I do,” Paul said. Then he realized what he was supposed to be doing here and suddenly realized he was about to get what he wanted. “Or no. No I don’t.”
“Hm. You sound confused,” said the woman. “Would you like to come in for some tea?”
“No, I’m quite well, thank you,” Paul said. He was still clinging to the side of the cliff, but in the same breath, he wanted to push away from it and let gravity take him.
He’d heard from a number of people about the Hermit. Knew that she typically wandered around up here on the mountain and offered a few quests for low level adventurers.
Mostly involving picking herbs or chasing off a wolf or two that would randomly attack her little homestead.
“Truly? Alright. I’m glad to hear it,” said the Hermit, giving him a wide smile. “Though, I apologize for troubling you. Could you possibly help me? I’m afraid my home has a number of wolves around it that I just can’t get to leave.”
Frowning, Paul was deeply concerned by the NPCs logic. He was clearly in a position where he couldn’t even help himself, yet the NPC wanted him to help her.
Then again, he’d never really interacted with much of the NPC side of things. He’d mostly stayed indoors and did his doll mage work.
“I uh… uh…I think I’m busy,” Paul said.
“Hm. Alright. I could really use the help though. I must go back to my home and I’m sure if I do so without an escort that those wolves will give me quite a fight,” said the Hermit.
“You could always just wait for them to go away,” Paul countered. Then he started to slide a bit off the edge of the cliff. The grass and dirt he was clinging to giving way.
Squeaking under his breath as it happened, Paul didn’t know what to do.
He wanted to die, but he didn’t want to die.
If he’d had the courage to do it himself he would have taken care of it a long time ago.
“Goodness you’re just sliding way,” said the Hermit.
Then she grabbed him by both shoulders and pulled him up and over the edge as if he weighed little more than a puppy.
Setting him down on his feet the Hermit lightly brushed her fingers down over Paul’s chest and stomach.
“You’re so very dirty,” the Hermit grumbled. “If you’re going to play such games you should at least have a mind for your clothing. If I had such fine garments, I don’t think I’d be doing the things you are.”
“Uh, yeah,” Paul said. He felt relieved that he wasn’t going to die but also forlorn.
If he didn’t make his exit soon, those damned engineers might find a way for him to be pulled from the game regardless of his wishes.
“Mr. Cooper, the window is closing in about five minutes. If you utilize your ‘Gate:home’ mechanic, you’ll be able to make it out of the game,” said a new person Paul hadn’t heard from up to this point.
“Guess you’ll just have to shut it down then, won’t you? Hm? Should have listened to me from the start,” Paul said, glaring up at the air above him.
“I beg your pardon?” asked the Hermit in a very confused voice.
“We can’t do that Mr. Cooper. As Ross and Michael both told you, they can’t simply ‘pull the plug’ as you called it,” said this new man.
“Well, you don’t really have any other option, now do ya? So you just run along and do it and we’ll be done won’t we,” Paul declared.
“I… well… I suppose. If that means you’ll help me, we can go right now,” the hermit said.
Looking at the NPC Paul narrowed his eyes and shook his head slightly.
They’re rather mindless aren’t they. Beholden to their programming and little else.
I wonder what their AI would be like if they were unleashed. Supposedly it’s start of the art and able to learn.
“Mr. Cooper, we just can’t do that. We can’t. Our legal team has advised us that we wouldn’t be able to cover something like that in court. Regardless of your wishes or statements,” said the engineer.
“Like I said. You just go and do that. It’d be a help to me because otherwise nothings going to happen. Nothing will change,” Paul said, nodding his head once. He wasn’t going to take anything from these damn technicians.
“If you’re sure then,” the Hermit said, turning away from Paul and starting to walk away.
Quest Accepted
Paul rolled his eyes and flicked a hand at the Hermit.
Go get eaten by wolves. I don’t care.
“Mr. Cooper… please. If you leave right now. You can make it before it closes. After this… after this we’re pretty sure we won’t be able to get back in,” said the supervising technician.
“That’s nice,” Paul said. Then for no other reason other than boredom he began to follow the Hermit. “You just run along now.”
The voice of the technician went silent at that.
Marching along, Paul was feeling quite proud of himself. He was getting exactly what he wanted in the end.
Don’t even have to do the dirty work myself.
Walking deeper into the mountains, following the Hermit, Paul was rather surprised at how quickly the sparse vegetation grew so much thicker.
“Goodbye and good-luck Mr. Cooper,” said the voice of the technician. “We’ll… we’ll keep working on a way to get you out. Do your best to survive until then, okay? We’ll keep the light on and the server running.”
There was a hard clack like noise that finished the statement.
“Uh, what?” Paul asked.
There was no response at all.
“Just uh… turn the server off. Okay?” Paul said.
Once more, there was no response.
“Oh fuck,” Paul muttered.
They’ll… keep the server on.
Keep it on? I just want them to turn it off so I can die.
Why is it that hard?
Unable to answer that, as well as why he was unable to actually kill himself either, Paul froze in place.
He was suddenly unsure of how to proceed or what to do with himself.
Screaming wildly the Hermit was torn apart by the wild wolves distantly up ahead.
Paul shook his head and looked down toward the bottom of the mountain.
So… what do I do then?
In moments the Hermit was quite dead, and the wolves resumed their watch of her home.
Quest restarted.
Maybe… go home and work on some things. But… then what? What do I do then?
Nothing. I guess. Nothing.
Maybe I’ll get lucky and a storm will hit the farm that’s hosting the server and I can just… go out. Like a light switch.
Closing his eyes, Paul pressed a hand over his face and let out a slow sigh.
“Whatever,” Paul mumbled and started his long walk back down the mountain.
Comments
Chase G Harstad
Wow. I really like this story so far.
William D. Arand
Was never in the vault? This is new.
Brian McDonald
Huh I wondered where this one went haven’t seen it in a while glad it’s back out of the vault
Avoid Shisnos
is this your improved version of SAO cuz knowing you it'll be a hell of a ride
Joshua Graybill
The rage one might feel in that situation. Being trapped, losing who you cared about. Then they are asking him to come away from it all, to make their lives easier, after everything.
Drew Risch
What an interesting concept; What happens after the Trapped-In-The-Game trope is over and everyone’s gone home? Cool!
Joshua Graybill
Well, %#*$! Already messing with our emotions I see. Wonderful angle to take, and absolutely inspired drop in point. I love it, would still punch you in the dick though. ;D
