I clicked the keys and moved the mouse rapidly, only serving to lose track again as the camera spun with the movement of the mouse.
I let go of the mouse, and the camera refocused around me.
The screen flashed red, and a warning tone sounded from the game. I ran forward, trying to remember the basic attack button as I went. The Bad Apples caught up with me and delivered the final blows.
Blaze collapsed to the grass, and the screen flared red.
[Mission failed. Try again?]
[YES] [NO]
I selected yes.
This time, I hid behind a rock, giving myself time to think and recall the attack key as the Bad Apples approached. They surrounded me, boxing me in. I pressed every button I could think of, finally selecting the correct one, the spacebar, to jump.
A Bad Apple was waiting on the other side, and delivered the final blow.
My hand clenched around the mouse, and I lifted it in the air to slam it back down as I recentered it on my mousepad. I leaned forward.
[Mission failed. Try again?]
[YES] [NO]
Once again, I selected yes.
A few minutes later, I received the same message.
[Mission failed. Try again?]
[YES] [NO]
I again slammed my pointer finger down on the left side, selecting [YES]. My fingers fell on the keys like a hammer onto nails as I struggled once again against the giggling and shrieking pack of Bad Apples.
They danced and cheered around Blaze’s body as I failed once again.
[Mission failed. Try again?]
[YES] [NO]
YES
[Mission failed. Try again?]
[YES] [NO]
I recentered my mouse, slamming it against the desk so hard I feared it broke for a second. The game started, and Blaze fell to the floor, dead.
I refused to be this bad at games.
Ani leaped up onto my desk, hungry for attention. He prowled in front of the monitor, racing a paw up to jab at my face.
Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
Behind him, Bad Apples swarmed Blaze.
Perhaps a bit too aggressively, I shoved Ani to the side, only for Blaze to fall once again. A growl built up deep in my throat.
[Mission failed. Try again?]
[YES] [NO]
YES!
They swarmed me once again, but this time–this time, I felt ready.
NO!
The plastic mouse beneath my hand creaked as Blaze collapsed to the ground once again. Ani swirled his tail happily at my feet, proud that he’d caught a mouse. Just not the right kind of mouse.
[Mission failed. Try again?]
[YES] [NO]
Again, and again, and again, and again I tried and failed to kill the most basic of monsters. My eyes burned, and I blinked. They only burned more. I tore my gaze away from the monitor, padding through the kitchen to procure eyedrops. Everything blurred before me as my eyes were dry from staring at the bright monitor in the dark room for so long.
The eye drops cleared my vision quickly, and I glanced in the mirror. The whites of my eyes were marijuana-pink in my reflection, and I cringed. Still, I would not back down. I entered the kitchen, intent on grabbing a quick snack to fuel my activities.
The clock light on the stove glared brightly at me, telling me it was far past my bedtime.
I was so close, however.
Figuring I’d go to sleep in a few minutes when I’d finally kill those Bad Apples, I sat back down at my desk and hunched over, ready to go again.
And so it continued. My eyes grew dry and blurry once more, and I looked away from my monitor, only to blink at the wall behind it.
It was brighter than it should be. I spun in my chair, and my dry eyes were hammered by the sunlight streaming in through the window. I’d done something I’d always sworn I was better than–stayed up late to play a ridiculous video game.
I spun back around to stare a the message on my screen, teasing me. Taunting me.
[Mission failed. Try again?]
[YES] [NO]
With a sigh, I selected “NO.”
[Are you sure?]
I selected yes, then closed out, turning my computer off. I spun my phone across my desk, letting the light turn on and checking the time. Training with Cove would begin in only a couple of hours. I groaned and leaned back against my office chair, pushing away from the computer to drift aimlessly in the middle of the room. From experience, I knew attempting to nap now would only exhaust me more later. Mustering my strength, I stood, shoving my chair back to my desk with perhaps more force than was necessary. My feet hit the floor with bangs, and I quickly heated up a large pot of coffee in the kitchen, trying to shift my thoughts from the game to the day.
I’d need the whole pot of coffee if I was going to stay awake and focused.
I scrambled some eggs as I waited for the pot to boil, then cool slightly, and sipped at the coffee with a sigh. Perhaps because of the placebo effect, some of my exhaustion cleared immediately, and I took a few more sips as I stared at my phone.
The temptation proved stronger than my will, and I found myself googling Zenith Online and clicking through the guides that popped up. I skimmed through them, absorbing the information like a sponge. Like physical pursuits, gaming had never been one of my strong suits. I hadn’t played any video games since middle school, and even back then, I wasn’t what I would consider a gamer, though my father had disagreed. Computers, however, were a strong suit of mine, and I absolutely refused to be so terrible with video games that I couldn’t defeat the first and most basic enemy.
The guides seemed to make fun of me as I read them, breezing past the first battle with comments such as “it’s simple,” “don’t sweat it too much,” “you can repeat it as many times as you need to,” with some going so far as to say “if you can’t beat these just quit. You suck.”
My hand tightened around my phone, and I breathed in deep through my nose. Video games, I decided, were a test of patience. A test I would pass.