Chapter 2

The duo gamed the day away, mastering their respective niches as the sun slowly set beyond their windows.

Much to Riley's pleasure, the Druid class had not been as useless as he had initially thought. Finding power in the land around him, he quickly destroyed his enemies and supported his allies.

"Oh yeah!" Abel yelled out over the headset. His voice was so loud that Riley could hear it through the thin apartment walls.

Riley watched as the barken figure of Abel burst from a nearby tree with a stone battle-axe held aloft. With a heavy swing, he brought the sharp edge down on the unsuspecting goblin in front of him.

Ding! A golden arrowhead appeared on Riley's screen, denoting another level up as they completed the quest.

"Nice," He remarked into the headset as he mindlessly sorted his character inventory. "Five levels on day one, not too shabby."

"Yeah," Abel said as he moved his character closer to Riley and began to do a shuffle. "Down for the dungeon?"

"Yeah, I don't know, man," He replied, picking up his phone to look at the time. "It's eight thirty-two and—"

"And I've got to piss, and we will finish this dungeon by ten. Be-arr-beeee."

The sound of a headset clacking on a table came through the speakers as Riley rolled his eyes. Taking a deep inhale of herbs, he rested his head on the desk with a deep sigh.

“I should probably shower.” He mumbled to himself as he wiggled his toes against the tan colour of the vinyl flooring before closing his eyes.

Ding!

Riley lifted his head and looked at the screen to see the shimmer of green light around a nearby tree.

"Oh," He exclaimed sluggishly, pressing down on the push-to-speak button. "Abel, there's another one of those weird trees I told you about."

Riley clicked on the in-game object, allowing his character to auto-run forward. Glancing to his side, he cautiously eyed the tome that still rested beside the keyboard. Feeling the sudden urge to touch it, he reached out and ran his hand along the surface once more.

Leaning in, Riley looked over the tree etched into the cover, admiring its fine detail. He stared at the thousands of pinhead leaves that created the canopy and the thick ridges that formed the trunk.

Remembering what he had been doing, he returned his gaze to the screen, where a text box had appeared in front of the virtual tree.

"Nature is not in the sword that clears the undergrowth," Riley read out loud. "But the vines that choke out the light."

Clicking on the following dialogue only revealed the word "Succeed" before the bark of the tree split, revealing a dark cavern that disappeared within the trunk. Riley stepped his character forward into the tree without hesitation and was immediately consumed by the bark. The monitor quickly went black before the darkness seemed to creep and stretch from the screen to the world around it.

Riley's character reappeared moments later, but his outfit had changed. Leaning in, he stared at the avatar's blue jeans and red shirt before they turned to look back towards the screen and Riley. The head had transformed to resemble a familiar shaggy mane, piercing green eyes and a confused look—an uncanny resemblance of his own.

Pushing away from the computer quickly, Riley stood. His headset clacked to the floor as a few small figurines tumbled from their stands to the tabletop.

"What the fuck." He mumbled, staring at the character for a moment longer before looking over his shoulder.

Riley's world was painted in oppressive darkness as he was transported from his bedroom to an endless black expanse. Around him, the sound of steadily dripping water echoed through the void.

"Hello!" Riley cried out. "Hello! Help me!"

"Hello!" His echo returned to him, louder and more frantic. "Hello! Help me!"

Riley grabbed at his ears as the cries continued to amplify. He fell to his knees as the words rang like an alarm, growing louder and louder until it was only possible to make out one word, "Help."

Riley awoke with a start at his computer. Raising his head, the first thing he realized was the daylight as he took up the phone to his side.

"Oh fuck me!" He yelped, realizing that he was late for work.

Standing up from his chair, Riley looked down at the character selection screen that he had been forced into after falling asleep on the keyboard. Shaking his head, he tried to forget the dream as he quickly logged out. But it clung to the front of his consciousness, the feeling of the darkness gripping his mind.

Riley looked to the edge of the computer table, to where the tome had been, but it had disappeared. Peaking out of the room, he eyed the plastic bag on the couch with the two books positioned against the cushions.

"Yep. No more bowls before bed." Riley said to himself as he quickly threw on new clothes and raced from the apartment.

Stopping by Abel's first, he gave the door a quick and frantic knock. With no response, he continued down the stairs and out of the building. Hopping into his car, he backed out and raced to work.

Beeeep. Click. The door to the office unlocked, and Riley ran up the three flights of stairs before emerging into a labyrinth of cubicles. Half crouching, he raced as fast and quietly as he could, sneaking through a side passage of snacks in an attempt to avoid his floor managers.

"Hi." The monotone voice of Bethany Butcher, one of his managers, announced from behind.

Riley stopped, standing up straight before turning around slowly to look at her. Beyond the island of snacks, she stood tucked between the Canyon Bars and CocoCafe.

"Hey, Beth—" Riley said with a forced smile.

"You're late."

"Yeah, sorry, I—"

"We had a tier-three outage this morning." She huffed as she slipped a cup beneath the coffee dispenser. With a press of a button, it began to whine and groan loudly.

"Oh..." Riley replied, hesitating to say anything more. The two stared at each other in awkward silence for a moment before the coffee began to spurt out, and he found the courage to continue. "I'm sure they've—"

"We've moved tier-two to assist."

"Does that m—"

"Tier-one is taking on tier-two cases until we have tier-three resolved."

Riley paused again, looking at Beth awkwardly. He gulped before asking, "Who's taking tier-one?"

"Tier-one," She finished, reaching behind to grab her finished coffee. "Get in the queue."

Riley watched her walk away as he inhaled a slow, deep breath. As she disappeared around the corner, he exhaled a sharp sigh. Swiping a bag of chips from the nearby drawer, he opened it on his walk to the desk. Consuming a breakfast of cheesy triangles, he tossed the empty bag to a nearby abandoned desk before sitting in front of his work computer.

Riley slipped his headset on and logged into the computer, cringing as the phone began to ring immediately.

"Thank you for calling Silica Nine Marketsquad Product Support. This is Riley. How can I help you today?" Riley regurgitated the corporate greeting recommended in the videos.

The same videos that came out regularly as new competitors were purchased and their names added to the corporate portfolio.

When Riley had started working, the company had been Silica One, but with each buyout, the name grew, and so did the numbers in the CEO's bank account. After a dozen purchases, the company chose a new, catchy name, becoming too big to fail. And the once "every-member-is-important" startup turned into a "bleed-yourself-dry" corporation where employees were pushed to the side with no raises, no benefits, and less time off.

Riley hated how the rich of the world kept getting richer. But he reminded himself that life wasn't fair, and that was how it would remain. So he kept his opinions to himself as the beratement began.

"Hi Riley, question," A familiar, upset customer started with an audible irritation, scratching at the back of their voice. "Is your piece of shit product supposed to always be broken? Or is there a certain time when it works?" The ‘always right’ big-pharma point-of-contact yelled over the phone.

Riley was used to people yelling. He acknowledged that if he were a customer, he would also be angry at the product. Over the years, he had watched more promises being made by sales teams with less follow-through made by the company. Since most customers only called when a product didn't meet their expectations, Riley quickly learned his new role.

After a few years, he realized that his position was meant to be a personal punching bag for an average of ten minutes a call. Then, once the customer was exhausted, he could send them up the line to be handled by someone else who would take all the credit.

"I'm so sorry to hear that your product isn't working," Riley replied calmly. "If you could give me your name and account number, I can assist in getting your product information sorted."

"No! I want to talk with your manager!" The voice bellowed in return.

"I completely understand, and I would be happy to help if—" Riley continued in an attempt to at least try and help the customer.

"Are you touched, son? I want to speak with your manager now, or I'm taking my business elsewhere! Or can you not get that through your fuckin' pea-size—"

"I—uh, of course. Please hold." Riley interrupted and placed the customer on hold. He released a deep sigh and leaned back in his chair.

"Fuck me. Not first thing in the morning, please." He muttered to himself as he pulled up the company IRC and reached out to Geoff, the more likable manager. He continued to mumble as he sat up straight and typed, "Hey Geoff—with a gee—I have an irate pharma customer demanding management or contract cancellation. Could you take this over? Thanks. And send."

The typing icon appeared before Geoff replied, "Yeah, sure, bud."

Without hesitation, Riley sent the customer away to be someone else's problem with a few clicks of the keyboard and a quick fiddle with the office phone. Taking a moment, he relaxed back down into his seat with barely enough time for a breath before the phone began ringing again.

"Thank you for calling Silica Nine Marketsquad Product Support. This is Riley. How can I help you today?" Riley responded robotically and would do so for four hours straight before finally having a moment for lunch.

Clicking himself offline and removing his soulless body from the queue, Riley rested his head on the desk and yawned. His stomach churned and growled out of hunger, causing him to instinctively grab it.

Thinking about food and Broiler Queen, Riley quickly felt the urge not to waste more money. That was when he remembered not having a choice since he forgot his lunch.

His mind wandered to the night before, the burger and fries he enjoyed with Abel before games. The pleasant memory of the video games invaded his thoughts, and he remembered the fun he had with the new class.

At the exact moment, a chill ran down his spine as he thought about the nightmares that followed.

"Oh, what was it?" He muttered to himself as he shut his eyes and shook his head in an attempt to recall the words. "Fucka'wookie, why-jay'zee? Alakablam."

He chuckled to himself, amused with his own bastardization of the language. Suddenly, the words appeared in his mind as clear as words on a page.

"Fuh ach'quooie'whyjay ze'el Ak'zi'key'my." He said softly.

Thwomp!

Riley felt his heart begin to race as he slowly opened his eyes. Looking at his feet, he hesitantly raised his head from the table. There, resting beside the dated office phone, was the even older leatherbound tome.

Riley stood with a start, sending his chair wheeling back into the person behind him, who grumbled angrily. He suddenly realized he was still at work, and several people were now beginning to stare his way.

"Stretching." He mouthed silently to the others as he felt his cheeks growing warmer.

Following up the deception with some light movement exercises before he grabbed his chair and sat back down.

Sitting in the seat, he eyed the book uncertainly before eventually taking it in his hands and standing up once more. Quickly exiting his row, he raced through the labyrinth of cubicles with his head down, eyeing the tome wrapped secretively in his arms.

"Ow, hey, bro." Abel huffed as Riley collided with his chest. "What happened last night? Not like you to fall asleep early."

Riley looked up at Abel with a wild expression and no words.

"Hey, are you okay?" Abel inquired as Riley stepped back and to the side.

"Yeah, I uhh—bad stomach." Riley lied as he moved around and away from Abel. "I—uh, got the squirts!"

Rushing away, Riley escaped the "strategically open" floor and found himself in the narrow hall of the bathrooms. Sliding into the men's room, he entered one of the stalls and locked the door behind him.

There, as he sat on the toilet, he laid the book onto his lap and stared at its etched cover. Running his fingers over its surface, he plucked at the leather strap that kept it bound. Riley hesitated for a moment before releasing the knot and lifting the cover to reveal the first page.