I woke slowly. Soft light hit my eyes, green tinted from the gel in which I lay. It took a moment for me to realize just where I was. -- in my capsule. I had just finished character creation and had been left behind in limbo by the ideal woman. Well, nearly ideal. Historically, fidelity wasn’t Helen of Troy’s strong suit. But the A.I. was just representing her so. . . I stopped myself. That line of thought had no point. It was just a pleasant illusion to guide me through the character creation process. The corner of my mouth twitched upward. Very pleasant.

The capsule confused me. It was impossible that character creation had taken a week. There was supposed to be some serious time dilation, which meant at best the time I had spent with Helen should have barely been a blink of the eye in the real world.

“Hello?” I called out, hoping my assigned CNA was around. There was no response.

I took a couple of deep breaths to collect myself, then began disconnecting tubes from various parts of my body. My mouth tasted like I had gone to bed after eating some horrible combination of pickles, smoked oysters, garlic and Funyuns. It had to be the worst case of dragon’s breath I had ever had. As much as I wanted to get back into the game, I wanted a shower and a good five minutes with my toothbrush first.

The lid opened slowly but smoothly as I pushed it upward, like a pneumatic lever on the trunk of a well-built car. It was night out and the room was dark, but I could make out the furniture in the light coming from the various LEDs and such in the capsule’s workings. Everything was as I left it, with the couch pushed off against the wall to one side. Another LED flashed on and off from the TV, meaning it was in sleep mode. I hadn’t used it, so it must have been the caregiver. I made way into the bathroom, flipping on the light and hopping into the shower as soon as the water had warmed up. As I stood under the hot water with my eyes closed, the sleepiness washed away and I realized I felt really good. Amazing, even. I had more energy than I could remember, almost to the point I could almost feel a charge running through me. My left wrist itched, but when I went to scratch it, my fingernails ran over a strange, smooth surface. I looked down and stared.

There, embedded in my wrist was a one and a half inch wide, two inch long screen. On contact it glowed a pale blue with white lettering. At the top was my name, then the time and date, the temperature and four icons; one for email, one for messaging, a browser, and something else that looked like Leonardo DaVinci’s Vitruvian Man. That had definitely not been there before I went under. It had also definitely not been in the contract. I looked closely at the skin around it. The epidermis wasn’t red or inflammed, and somehow blended almost seamlessly with the screen. Which meant it wasn’t new. Maybe I had been in the capsule longer than I thought.

Absentmindedly, I turned up the heat of the water while staring at my wrist. Water beaded on the screen but it remained clear and easy to read as the room steamed up. I pushed the email button. I jumped and almost slipped when four short beams of light shot up from my wrist and formed a tablet-sized holographic screen similar to the one Helen had shown me in Purgatory. At first glance it looked like the screen showed me my typical Infinite email app. When I looked a little closer, the tabs were named a little differently. I still had Inbox, but it was followed by tabs for Tasks, and Market instead of the usual Social, and Promotions. All the tabs were empty.

The messaging icon looked like the typical cell phone messaging system, no big deal. I had no contacts, but didn’t have any reason to have them in a strange device. IN MY WRIST. Cybernetically enhancing myself had never been particularly appealing, but apparently that choice had been taken from me. The browser opened a typical Infinite browser, and a couple quick searches brought up completely normal pages for the things I was used to. I turned up the water again, since I was slowly running out of hot water, and pressed the Vitruvian Man.

Name: Jack McNamara Level: 1

Class: Omnimagus Exp: 1/1000

Life: 180/180 Metawell Capacity: 200/200

STR: 12 DEX: 14

VIT: 18 INT: 22

WIL: 18 CHA: 14

Points Available: 0

Resistances [Press here to reveal.]

Traits [Press here to reveal.]

Skills [Press here to reveal.]

Spells/Abilities [Press here to reveal.]

I was confused. Here I was, in my own shower, in my own home. The shampoo bottle was a quarter of the way from empty, just as it had been yesterday. I had agreed to beta test a video game. I couldn’t come up with a reason I would need my stat screen in my wrist in real life, but couldn’t conceive of a video game THIS real, regardless of its subtitle. The only differences I could detect between the world I was used too and the one I was living right now were the wrist device and the strange energy thrilling through me. The unusual tabs in my Infinite mail account were off too, but that could easily be explained in relation to the new holographic user interface. Was I inside a game or not? I didn’t have an answer, so I just gave in to the soothing hot water of the shower until it ran out.

A small window looked out the bathroom on a fenced backyard with a large raised planting box. The window was opaque, but the bathroom fan was old so I kept it open when I was showering to let some of the steam escape. I took a look outside as I toweled off. The spear of light from the window revealed a jackalope sitting in the middle of the box and eating the lettuce I had planted. It was about two and a half feet tall sitting on its haunches and its antlers had six points. Clearly a decent stag that any hunter wouldn’t be embarrassed to mount. Not a lot for a deer, but this was a giant hare with antlers.

I did a double take. Blinked a few times. Clearly I had spent too much time reading folklore and mythology because my reaction to seeing my first cryptozoological animal was to have rational thoughts. I had to be in the game. I was sure now. Mostly. Because jackalopes don’t exist. The creature was not having the same existential crisis I was, as it just continued to contentedly eat my lettuce, unaware that it had a witness. Light reflected off its eyes, making them glow and making the overgrown rabbit seem more fierce than it probably was. My wrist beeped and the jackalope whipped its head toward the direction of the noise. It took off, bounded across the garden box and cleared the four foot fence in a single leap. I caught a hint of its shadowy form racing through a pool of light given off by a streetlamp and then it was gone into the darkness. I finished toweling off and went into my room for some clothing.

The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

The felt of my favorite pajamas pants was as soft and warm as it always was, and the elastic band just as worn out as it had been for years. I slipped on one of my favorite gaming t-shirts and it fit as snugly as usual. There wasn’t a single sensation I experienced that did not exactly live up to my expectations, conscious or unconscious. The technology in the Delusional Reality capsule was astounding, or my mind was just playing tricks on me. Or part of the technology worked on the fact that the human mind was good at playing tricks on itself. I wasn’t sure how I felt about that possibility.

In spite of the fact that it was dark out, I felt refreshed after the shower. I wasn’t sure what to do, so I went with a classic and turned on my TV. A news program with a pretty female anchor came on, talking about local events.

“In other news, werewolves have been sighted in the Coeur D’Alene national forest, so the Forest Service has released a warning for hikers in the area. Zombies have once again sprung up in the St. Thomas cemetery so be careful if you’re going to visit your loved ones. Bounties have been posted for both zombies and jackalopes, and don’t forget to hit up Fredslist to find gigs from private parties. Remember to stick to legal jobs!”

I hit mute and just watched the images flash by. They showed corpses in various states of decay wandering about the local graveyard and a husk of jackalopes ruining a beautiful garden. Other scenes showed more typical news stories, like car accidents and county rodeo winners. My wrist beeped twice. When I glanced at it, a small number 2 rested at the corner of the email button. I tapped it and discovered I had two entries in my Tasks menu.

Taskmaster Plus | Pest Control: Zombies | Zombies are cropping up in a neighboring graveyard, help take them out!

Taskmaster Plus | Pest Control: Jackalopes | These horny beasts breed like rabbits. See what you can do to help stop the spread.

I snorted. The zombies sounded far more interesting than what amounted to a “Kill 10 Rats” quest. Maybe jackalopes would be a good quest for a frost mage, but I didn’t plan on chasing glorified rabbits around while they ran about. The one in my garden was already too fast for me.

Since I had woken feeling rested and it was only about 10 pm, I decided to check out the Zombies task. Jackalopes went straight to the trash. I clicked on the link for the former and the email opened.

Pest Control: Zombies

To: [email protected]

From: [email protected]

Zombies are cropping up in the St. Thomas graveyard in Coeur D’Alene, Idaho in the USA. A bounty is offered by The Department of Paranormal Security for putting 10 of the creatures to rest.

Rewards: $150, 150 xp

Find it on InfiniteMap!

Satisfied with Taskmaster? Fill out this 5 minute survey for a chance to win a $50 gift card! Tap HERE!

I tapped the InfiniteMap link and the program plotted the course from my location to the cemetery. Walking around with a glowing screen coming out of my arm seemed excessively conspicuous, so I searched for and found a minimize button. The screen retracted into my wrist, the display now showing the typical map. It was so hard to believe I was just playing a game. The truth was, it no longer mattered that it was a game. I would be living this life for a real world week, and who knew how long in game. It was time to saddle up and make the most of it.

The first thing to do was get ready. There was no way I was going to fight zombies in pajamas. For pants I was stuck with jeans. I pulled on an old gaming shirt with a shield and sword bearing silhouette from one of my favorite multiplayer online battle arenas. Tucked in the back of my closet was an old German motorcycle jacket made of thick, stiff leather. It had belonged to my dad, leftover from his Harley riding days. I figured it would hold up well against the teeth and grasping fingers of the undead if it came down to that. Once upon a time I had had the pants that went with the jacket, but I had let those go along with my youth. I regretted it, now. I would have been much more comfortable going out to face monsters in leather. My final touches were thick socks and steel toed hiking boots. Not my normal wear, which leaned toward dress shoes and shirts with jeans, but I was always prepared for practical moments.

In the interest of that Boy Scout practicality, I pulled a 9mm pistol from my nightstand and holstered it so I could cross draw it. I wasn’t sure if that was the right way to wear it or not, but I was raised on the Back to the Future and the scene where Marty won a duel because he cross drew always made sense to me. There was a single small box of ammunition in the drawer, which I tucked into a pocket on my jacket. In the medicine cabinet in the bathroom I found two nearly empty prescription bottles, one with a couple red pills and one with three blue ones. I slipped those into another pocket. That done, I took a look in the full length mirror in the hall. I looked more like a fresh Mad Max than a scholarly mage, but I was satisfied. It was time for adventure.

*****

My SUV bounced as I turned into the parking lot of a diner across the street from the cemetery and got my first look. Whatever it looked like in my world, I was certain it was a little different than this. Nine foot tall cement walls topped with barbed wire surrounded the whole lot. The tops of deciduous trees rose far above the walls on the southern plot and lined the perimeter of the entire graveyard just inside the fortifications. I could see their branches swaying in a light wind. A paved street separated it from the northern plot, which had only open sky above it. A decorative but solid wrought iron gate barred entry to the road between the plots. I got out of the car and grabbed a flashlight before making my way to the entrance. On the way over I switched my map back over to the default display.

The concrete was still smooth and the barbed wire was just beginning to show signs of rust, suggesting the wall wasn’t very old. It was warm to the touch as I put one hand on it and leaned forward to look through the gate. The night was quiet and cool, a common enough Idaho summer phenomenon, where temperatures went from 80s and 90s in the day to 60 in the evening. Occasionally a car went by, but otherwise the only sounds were typical night sounds. I was surprised. I expected a zombie infested graveyard to be filled with the moaning undead. As they say, expectations are the key to disappointment.

I took the bars of the gate between two hands and shook it to make sure it was sturdy. Flashlight between my teeth, I began to climb. One leg was half over when I heard something behind me. I turned my head and there was a man who looked like he might be a young 60 shining a flashlight on me.

“What are you doing, son?”

I maneuvered my flashlight into my hand so I could talk. “I’m here for the bounty on the zombies.”

“Ah,” he nodded. “I thought you might be. It’s unlocked. The zombies can’t use doorknobs.”

I slid back down, embarrassed. The doorknob in the middle of the gate turned easily when I tried it. I smiled sheepishly. “Thanks.”

“No problem. Just leave the bodies where they fall. The boys will put them back in the graves where they belong in the morning. Makes the families feel a little better. No explosives, you hear?”

“No explosives on me,” I replied with a nod.

“Good luck then,” he said, turning to leave. “Close the gate behind you so they can’t get out if you die.”

I blinked. The old man was entirely too nonchalant about all of this. He walked away, and I slipped into the graveyard, ready for my first quest.

I shut the gate behind me.