Insomniac Player

Damien had been awake for one hundred and thirty-seven hours.

Not that he was counting. Of course, he was. What else could he do?

When you couldn’t sleep, counting became a hobby.

Some people collected stamps; Damien collected hours of consciousness.

’One hundred and thirty-seven, a personal best for the month.’

He sat on the edge of his bed and stared at a partially eaten birthday cake balanced on his lap.

The cake was chocolate-flavored and delicious. Cause it was stolen.

’Neh, ’stolen’ sounds bad. How about rescued or... never mind, stolen is the word.’

The birthday party at Saint Mary’s Orphanage ended yesterday. Nobody had touched the leftovers.

As both a resident and employee of the orphanage, Damien considered himself legally entitled to the abandoned cake.

’That isn’t a real law, but it should be,’ Damien thought as he took another bite.

The room wasn’t much. A bed, a desk, and a chair, old enough to qualify for veteran benefits.

Home.

Or close enough. Saint Mary’s had been home since before he could remember.

Sister Agnes claimed he had arrived on the orphanage doorstep wrapped in a blanket and screaming loud enough to wake the dead.

Damien had always suspected the second part was exaggerated.

His laptop sat abandoned on the desk, an unfinished assignment still open.

Argh... assignment due tomorrow. Should I start it on the night shift, or just keep procrastinating?

Brrrr.... His stomach rumbled.

Damien paused.

"Don’t start. You’re literally eating."

Brrrr....

He looked down at the half-finished cake on his lap.

"No. Absolutely not. You don’t get to complain."

Brrrrrrr....

The traitorous organ ignored him.

’Why do I feel like eating ice cream?’

Damien blinked.

Ice cream?

That was strange.

Chocolate cake? Understandable.

Cookies? Excellent.

Anything likely to cause diabetes? A gift from humanity to itself.

But ice cream?

He frowned at the cake.

"Are you not enough anymore?"

The cake remained silent.

A shame. It had been doing fairly well up until now.

He finished the last bite of cake, slipped on his shoes, put on his jacket, and stood up.

Left the orphanage at midnight.

For ice cream.

The universe should have stopped him; it had several opportunities.

First, he forgot his wallet, realizing this only after reaching the street. He had to walk back upstairs to get it.

The second opportunity: on his way out again, he nearly tripped over a bicycle leaning against the fence. He caught himself just in time.

The third: as he reached the sidewalk, Mr. John from across the street began talking to him.

Mr. John loved talking; nobody knew why.

"Evening, Damien!" the man called.

Instantly, Damien wished he could turn around and retreat to his room, regretting his decision to leave.

"Evening," Damien gave the fakest smile he could create.

"Beautiful weather," John said.

"Sure," Damien replied while avoiding eye contact.

"You know what they say about weather?" John said as he took out his phone.

"No," Damien replied and sped up.

"They say...."

Using years of experience, Damien increased his pace, slipping away before hearing what Mr.John supposedly said about the weather.

Night grew deep as he approached the bright lights of the convenience store, their fluorescent glow harsh against the shadows. The sidewalk radiated the day’s warmth beneath his shoes, while the light hum of distant traffic blended with the buzz of the store’s neon signs.

He walked under silent streetlights; the city seemed calm in the warm, glowing light.

Cars passed. People chatted in groups. It was a perfectly normal scene.

BANG!!

Suddenly, something exploded.

A sudden, explosive noise hit Damien, making his ears ring and stopping him mid-step.

It sounded like glass breaking.

Glass the size of the sky.

CRACK.

Everything went still: conversations stopped, cars screeched to a halt, and people froze mid-step.

Damien looked up.

An uneven fracture stretched across the heavens.

For one impossible second, his exhausted mind refused to understand what he was seeing.

Then another crack emerged.

And another.

Thin lines spread across the night as imperceptible hands were grabbing the world itself and tearing it apart.

"What the hell is that?" someone near Damien asked him.

"Good question. But I don’t know the answer," Damien replied as he continued to gaze at the cracked sky.

’Will I be able to get leave tomorrow with this much?’

The sky splintered apart with a roaring rupture, and from its fractured expanse, impossible creatures and objects began to tumble into the world below.

Green creatures carrying wooden clubs. Floating eyeballs. Massive insects.

One crashed onto a parked car; the force instantly flattened the vehicle.

Another creature dove through a building, smashing through with such force that the structure crumpled.

Chaos erupted; people ran like ants; cars collided like furious bulls.

Then the dragon appeared, a villainous entry to destroy what remained of hope.

Damien looked up.

The creature burst through one of the largest fractures.

It was enormous, its wingspan covering entire streets. But it didn’t have skin, or flesh, or scales. Only bones.

A skeletal dragon, white ribs, white claws. A skull large enough to swallow buses.

It flew through the air despite possessing approximately zero muscles.

The creature’s empty eye sockets turned, locked onto Damien.

"Oh... shit."

The dragon folded its wings tightly against its sides and dove down at lightning speed.

As the dragon approached, people scattered. The force shattered windows all along the street.

The monster was heading directly toward him.

Damien stood there, not because he was brave, nor because he was heroic.

He was simply too tired to process what was happening.

A bone dragon was about to eat him.

The creature sped toward him: fifty meters, forty, thirty. Damien couldn’t move.

"Damn, Seriously?"

Twenty meters remained between him and the dragon.

Then a sound echoed through the air.

Beep

A glowing blue screen appeared before him.

Damien blinked; the dragon continued charging.

The screen lingered; words formed across its surface.

➤[Do you wish to participate in a tutorial?

Reward: Become a Player]

➤[Yes]

[No]

Damien stared with utter confusion.

The dragon was approximately one bad decision away from turning him into paste.

The world was ending. Monsters were everywhere.

Reality had apparently downloaded an update.

And some floating screen was asking him a question.

Still, it was less annoying than Mr. John.

The dragon opened its jaws. Damien could see rows of teeth.

Very large teeth, very sharp teeth. The kind of teeth that inspired regret.

He considered the options.

Option one: Click no. Remain a normal human. Die immediately.

Option two: Click yes. Potentially die immediately. But with benefits.

"Well," Damien sighed.

"I’ve definitely made worse life choices."

He pressed Yes.

Instantly, the screen flashed, and light burst around him, overwhelming his senses.

Everything faded into darkness. The dragon vanished. The city vanished.

Only a single thought remained, a strange and ridiculous one.

A thought so important that Damien somehow held onto it even as reality dissolved.

"I never got my ice cream."