Matriarch

I open my eyes, but I see no light. In front of me is a giant wooden slab, trapping all light and making it nearly impossible to breathe. My arms are crossed over my chest and the space around me feels tight and claustrophobic.  

            I feel myself becoming faint, my vision distorting and becoming hazy, my head becoming groggy. I will it away and force myself to lift my arms to see where I am. I find that the wood in front of me is not very far from my face.

            I push against the ceiling of this small container I’m in, but it doesn’t budge, even as I put my full weight into it. I move my arms to the sides of me and push against those. I feel the wood giving out. I give one last shove into them and I roll out of the wooden box I was in. Standing up and looking down, I see that it was a coffin.  

            I catch a glimpse of my clothes and study them more carefully. I’m wearing a black tuxedo, an old one. Former but pristine, I note, running my finger along the clean, neatly-cut collar. I feel something sticky and when I bring my hand back, there’s a scarlet residue painted on it. I twist my neck around, trying to get a good look at my back, then wished I hadn’t when I see my backside is full of gore.

            Aren’t they supposed to clean you up before burying you?

            I hear a yell from outside and turn to the doorway. The blinding sunshine that’s glaring through the glass doors of the morgue sting my eyes. I go forward, toward the screaming girl. But it isn’t exactly screaming I hear, it’s more of some kind of battle cry. A strangled, beat-up cry of bravery, yes, but a battle cry nonetheless.

            I open the doors without even thinking and have to step to the side, dodging the throwing knife that gets chucked at me by a man in all black. A girl with the lightest colored hair I had ever seen jumps on the man’s back and wraps a rope around his throat, choking him. The choking, bubbling noises coming from the man’s throat sound bizarre and frighten me a bit, but it also sounds familiar. Soon I find that the sounds of it are calming my nerves until they die out once the man perishes.

            The girl slumps to the ground, covered in blood. Looking at the battle field around her, I see why. Tens of bodies lay sprawled out on the ground, either choked like this man in front of me was, or slaughtered by a sword I see hanging in a sheath from the girl’s belt.

            I make no move to help the girl and she eventually gets up on her own. She brushes off her pants, as if that will help any to get the blood off her. She walks up to me, her movements confident and sincere. She holds a slight glimmer in her brown eyes and has a mischievous smile that seems so natural on her I’m surprised it’s not permanent when she frowns. Then she smiles again. Frowns.

            My eyes once again move to the dead bodies behind her, their lifeless eyes staring up at the beautiful blue sky before trailing back to her face again. She looks so familiar. This all seems so familiar.

            Her eyes narrow up at me, finally settling on a displeased expression. “You’re late.”

            I furrow my brows. “Late for what?” Smiling slightly at the pile of blood forming at her feet from a leg wound, I take a step toward her. “It looks like I missed a lot.”

            The girl suddenly looks angry, irritated, with her brows furrowed and teeth gritted. “Of course, you forgot,” she says, mostly to herself. “You always forget, why should this time be any different?”

            “Look, lady, I don’t have any idea what you’re talking about.”

            She forgets her anger for a moment to eye me up and down. “New outfit?”

            I look down at my bloodied tux and pick at the hems. “What kind of person am I, to choose this hideous disaster you call an outfit.”

            The girl rolls her eyes and turns her back to me. “You really are hopeless, Mark. Let’s go get you your weapon, now.” She walks in zig-zags between the bodies laid out before us like mannequins or display cases, picking one up every so often to look under them.

            “While we’re picking up bodies, is it okay if you fill me in?” I eye a woman with her eyes poked out, a black raven sitting motionless on her shoulder. Maybe I shouldn’t have stayed with this strange girl.

            But everything is familiar. The bickering between us, the blood all around us, witnessing death at every corner. It all feels so natural, and I know, even though I don’t remember, that this is what I’m supposed to be doing; it’s the natural order of things for me and this friend.

            The girl sighs. “Fine, I guess I can give you that much.” She groans as she tries to heave up a large, burly man. I help her with it, but there’s nothing under him. “Basically, you and I are brother and sister, and we were captured here, in this place. It’s called Ghull. It’s our job to try and free everyone that was trapped here. That means we have to kill all of the Gamer’s pawns.”

            “Very cookie-cutter,” I note.  She simply shrugs in reply.

I look around me. Everyone that was laying around us had the same fully-black clothes as the first man I seen had. Only now am I noticing a little infinity sign on the right arms of each of them. I feel my blood boil for no reason at all, but will it away quickly, trying to find something to calm me down. I look for the girl; she may be my sister, but I can sense something special, something that draws me to her.  

Now I need a distraction from all my thoughts.

            “Who’s the Gamer?” I ask.

            The girl shrugs. “Who cares? All I know is that he’s a guy who captured all of us in one giant video game and mind-controls people to make sure they can’t complete the game and set everyone free.” She eyes me carefully. “And just so that you don’t get any ideas, we’re not actually killing these people. First of all, they’re mind-controlled. Second of all, this is just a game. They’re still alive in real life.”

            I look around me again, seeing the bodies around me in a whole new way. It isn’t real. This is all just a game. I imagine trying to pick something up and having it glitch through my hand, and I’ll be able to see a small glimpse of the real world for that split second

I somehow remember playing video games as a small child, curled up in a plush chair, the controller in hand, my tongue stuck out in concentration as I rained bullets down on my enemies. Another bonus, if I did have any experience with video games, I know you get to respawn. “I died, didn’t I? And then I respawned in that morgue.”

            “Hm,” the girl says. “You’re coming to a lot faster than you did the last time.” A pause. “Yes, you did respawn. But for some reason, you took an exceptionally long time.”

            “I ran into some trouble,” I respond, getting a chill just thinking of getting trapped in the coffin again. “So, if I can respawn, won’t these people come back to life just as well?”

            She shakes her head. “We were given special advantages by our… employers that allows us to respawn. Others don’t get that chance. Unfortunately, respawning has a price: we lose all our memories, and it takes quite a while to get them back.”

            “You are very good at explaining,” I chuckle.

She shrugs again. “What can I say, we go through this ordeal a lot.”

I nod my head with understanding, think for a second. “So, my name’s Mark?”

            The girl shakes her head and smiles. “Not really. Ever since we became captured in this game, we forgot our old selves and, therefore, created new names for ourselves. Your name is Matriarch. Mark’s just a nickname. Mine’s Nemesis.”

            “Nice to meet--” I instinctively shove her aside as I see a man charging for us from behind her and kick my opponent in the side of the head. He had his wooden bat up, ready to bash Nemesis’ head open, and he would have succeeded had I not been quick enough.  

            He loses his balance, falling to the ground. The man rolls to his left to where I pushed Nemesis down, trying to lunge at her. I put my foot between them and he bounces off of it, gritting his teeth at me before grabbing at my knees and bringing me down with him.

            He’s on top of me, swaddling me, trying to choke me. When he sees that it’s futile when I keep intercepting his advances, he starts clawing at my face. My cheeks sting and I feel hot blood dripping from my chin.

            I kick him off me and scramble to stand up and get the advantage, but he’s up before I am and kicks me in the stomach, knocking the breath from me.

            “Hey, *sshole!” I hear Nemesis yell. She darts forward, back on her feet, and rams her arm into his side, sending him rolling in the dirt.

            Nemesis draws her sword out and raises it up, walking toward the defeated man, victorious. Until the man spots a weapon nearby and makes a grab for it. He raises a bow, an arrow already nocked in its quiver, pointing it directly at Nemesis. She stops dead in her tracks, eyes wide.

Having regained my breath, I stand up fully to go after the man before he notices that I’ve recovered. Too late. He’s now pointing the bow at me.

“You two better come with me, ‘else I’ll shoot you both straight through the eyes,” the man threatens, his voice rough and menacing.

I sneer at him. “Come on,” I tell Nemesis, “we can take this guy easily.” As I step toward him, she grabs my arm and the man tightens his hold on the weapon.

“We can’t,” she says, eyes intent on the bow. “We’ll get shot.”

I eye her leg. “Says the person with the stab wound. Blood’s a great color on you, by the way; it really brings out your eyes.”

She rolls her eyes and turns to me. “That bow he has right there was once yours, but you lost it! You get shot by that thing, and no more respawning for you.”
            “You can talk and plan all you like,” the man interrupts, “but it isn’t going to change anything. You’re still my prisoners and I’ll still be taking you to the castle. Face it: you’re done.”

Nemesis’ eyes widen before she whispers in my ear. “Just listen to him. Maybe we’ll be able to find the Gamer there. No one has ever been able to get a look at him before! This will be out chance!”

I give her an incredulous look. “You really think they’d have their leader out in the open and lead us straight towards him?”           

“It’s worth a shot, isn’t it?” Nemesis steps away from me and holds her hands up, walking slowly up to the man. “We’ll come with you.”

The man smiles coyly. “Hold up, girly. You’re gonna have to give up that sweet little sword of yours there. Go throw it in the woods.”

Nemesis matches his smile, all smug. “Fine. But if I may give you the trouble in asking, may I also just go to the bathroom?”

The man takes a while before answering, then nods and grunts. Nemesis skips off into an alley. I assume the woods are right behind.

“You’re not afraid of her running off at all?” I ask the man cautiously.

The man narrows his eyes at me. “’Course not. Everyone knows that you two are as thick as thieves. There’s no way she would leave ya, ‘less you were dead.” His smile returns when Nemesis comes skipping back to us. It sends a certain chill through me. “Now come along, children. No dawdling.”

The man gestures for us to start walking toward the morgue, where I came from. We cut through an alley and enter a forest. Only scraps of light are revealed here and there from in between the thickly woven canopy of leaves and branches. I squint my eyes to better see where I place my feet, but it does no good. However, the man appears to have night-vision, because he knew just where to step so as not to trip over a tree root or walk into a face-full of spiderwebs, unlike Nemesis and I.

I bump into him when he comes to a stop and turns to us. “You’ve reached your final destination. I hope you enjoyed your tour. The number of points, added up by the number of soldiers you’ve killed, will be reflected on your trials.”

And then we’re falling and Nemesis is screaming bloody murder in my ear, her white hair blowing up above her head. I scramble for something to hold onto, but my hands only touch smooth concrete walls, rising above us more and more.

And then we land on our feet. I expected for it to hurt or break my legs, but I don’t feel any pain. I look around me to see that the man with the bow is right in front of us, standing in a fighting stance in the middle of an underground tunnel with the bow once again pointed straight at us.

“Nice to see you again.” The man shoots his bow and the arrow sticks into the concrete wall behind us. “I’m Rival, your escort to the king. Follow me.”

He turns on us, quickly nocking another arrow before doing so, and continues down the long stone hallways, Nemesis and I following right behind, knowing we could be this close to finding the Gamer, no matter the cost. I have none of my memories back, and I have yet to find the burning indignation for revenge I should be feeling, but I know I will soon, and that potential is enough for me to want to break the Gamer’s neck with my own bare hands.

The hall was lit up with oil torches that were mounted to the walls in ten-foot intervals, sending long shadows to follow behind us. The stone on the walls were damp and completely covered in places with moss, sending great wafts of a disgusting odor our way. I see Nemesis gag.

And then we’re in a cavernous room, no longer smelling of sulfur, with bright, natural light from the sun’s rays shining down on us through the open roof. A colorless carpet led us up to a throne, where a younger brown-skinned man, the same age as Nemesis and I, sat, looking smug and powerful, high upon his throne. I knew from just a glance at his regal demeanor and confident posture that this was none other than the Gamer himself.

A single guard was at the side of the throne, his eyes alert and attentive, ready to pounce on any danger that comes his ruler’s way.

“Why, what do we have here?” The Gamer sneers. “Ah, the people trying to overthrow me. How badly you have failed. I must say, though--” the Gamer leans forward, like a child getting ready to open a buttload of presents at Christmas, “--you put up much more of a fight than the last few I captured did. I appreciate that.”

Nemesis cocks her head and takes a tentative step forward, eyeing the bow pointed at us. “Nemesis at your service, Gamer. It’s nice to know that we at least gave you some sort of entertainment before getting executed.”

“What makes you think I’m going to execute you?” the Gamer asks, playful confusion on his face. He was playing a game of cat-and-mouse: teasing us with hopes of not getting killed so that we can give him the pleasure of fighting him even as our fate is sealed. Because that’s the whole reason why he’s a villain that acts like a cocky bastard in the first place, isn’t it? To watch his victims squirm? To watch them get a spark of hope, only for it to be extinguished before it can even start to blaze?

“If you don’t mind me asking,” I give in, “but why aren’t we going to get killed?”

The Gamer laughs. “I’m pretty sure that’s a stupid question, Matriarch.” He clucks his tongue when I crease my brows. “You both can easily respawn. I’d have to put you into some sort of hell or purgatory if I want to punish you for treason. Either way,” he stands up and starts walking towards us, his guard that was standing at his throne following close behind, “I like to say I’m a fair ruler, and it’s not very fair of me to punish you just like that, is it?”

“Neither is being a forceful dictator,” Nemesis cuts in, “but here you are, doing that so willingly.”

The Gamer doesn’t acknowledge Nemesis’ jibe and continues. “We have to have a trial so that we can determine the degree of your treason and murder.”

“We didn’t murder anyone,” I say through clenched teeth.

The Gamer purses his lips and rubs his chin. “Really? ‘Cause I’m pretty sure that when you were captured and brought here, you had left a massacre done by you two.”

“Don’t listen to him, Mark,” Nemesis says calmly. “We didn’t kill anyone; the people we defended ourselves against are simply on hiatus to the world.”

The Gamer lifts Nemesis’ chin to look up at him. “Is that what we’re calling it now, love?” He makes air quotes and uses a mocking voice. “’On hiatus to the world.’”

“Yes,” Nemesis hisses. “It’s you who is using people and forcing them to do this game of yours.”

“Now, do you really think that, darling?” The Gamer asks, taking his hand away from her face. “You really think that I’m the monster here?” When Nemesis doesn’t answer for a minute, the Gamer snaps his finger and nods at Rival. “Take them to the dungeon where they’ll await the trial.”

Rival nods at the Gamer and starts down the tunnel, gesturing for us to follow. We don’t question it and follow him with no hesitations. Neither of us wanted to lengthen our conversation with the Gamer.

            “Wait until I give the signal,” Nemesis whispers to me. “Then we go back and kill him.” She didn’t have to fill in the gaps with useless details; I already knew the plan.

            We walk a little farther down the tunnels, this time taking a left instead of going straight. As we went by, the air around us grew colder and damper, and you could see the age on the stones growing from the thriving moss and giant cracks that split some stones in two.

            Once we turned another corner, Nemesis knocks against the wall closest to her, letting a dull thump echo through the empty tunnels. I sweep my leg under Rival and Nemesis takes a dagger hidden in her boot, making quiet and swift moves to slit Rival’s throat, just as she did with the other soldiers. I take his bow—my bow—and nock it with an arrow from the quiver I sling over my back. I count only four more arrows; I’ll have to make those remaining of good use.

We nod to each other and silently retrace our steps, hiding on either side of the threshold that leads into the throne room where we could hear the Gamer and the guard talking quietly.

            Before I can protest, Nemesis takes a quick step into the doorway and tosses the blood-stained dagger at the Gamer. It lands in his jugular and he chokes in surprise, eyes wide. It isn’t long before blood pours from his neck and he thumps to the ground, hands wrapped around his throat, not quite dead. The Gamer’s old guard stares at his old master in shock, unable to do anything, not even knowing what to do if there was something he could try to do to prevent it.

            Nemesis and I stand side by side, gazing at the scene. “Something doesn’t feel right,” I wonder aloud. Finding the Gamer, killing Rival, killing the Gamer: all of it was done so simply, too simply.

            Nemesis nods her head. “It was too easy. Don’t you think?

Nemesis lets out a choked sob and when I turn to her, I see a sword sticking straight through her chest. When it gets ripped out of her and she falls to the ground, her body starts becoming little pixels, each one slowly fading away. Looking at the Gamer’s now-dead body, I see that the same thing has happened to him. They were holograms all along.