Hope you enjoy it folks! Also before I forget, if any of you have a recommendation for a new title I'm all ears. Titles are hard thus I'm pawn- ahem, giving you the opportunity to add your own mark to this fiction! Whew, that sounds much better.

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“Just another fucking day,” muttered the exhausted man while dragging his aching feet through the door. The winter blew in freezing air and snow from the open door, chilling the man to the bone. Throwing off his toque and well worn winter jacket, he closed door - only stopping some of the frigid air from blowing in through the cracks.

‘It’s been a whole year with this fucking bullshit with her and it’s still fucking haunting me. Why in the hell do you want me to jump into stupid university course that, you damn well know, I’m just going to abuse. Four years of peace and quiet sounds nice and all, however, it isn’t like I exactly have the money for school,’ he thought as a car alarm blaired in the run-down neighbourhood.

Prostitution, drug deals, and theft were so common in that neighbourhood that the people in his neighbourhood simply gave up caring. Most parents, who were forced to into the area due to their financial situations, only managed to tell their children to abandon thoughts of dealing with those people. If not, well, be prepared to pay for child support. Or be able to afford the habit. Andrew himself was no stranger to this environment, but it brought out a dull pain every time he saw the slum first hand.

Andrew, a perpetually tired looking blond man all off 19 year old, lit up a cigarette before making his way to the faded leather coach. Pulling an empty coffee cup - turned ashtray - which was one of many things littering the table to his side. After ten hours on the job he slowly felt his tense body finally relax. Thinking back he scowled, to his dismay, he was told many times that if he would have taken care of himself he would likely be one of the most striking people in the city. With his piercing blue eyes, high cheekbones, tied back flaxen hair, and well structured face he was the picture of envy for many. Yet, he would give it all away in a heartbeat for a normal life.

Over the last year, Andrew turned the once confident smile he held into a callous scowl few could withstand looking at. Many events prior could be used to show the bad lot given to him by the turbulences of life, but at this point in time it was all merely excuses that he was forced to deal with it one way or another.

Turning on the TV - manually. He flipped through the channels unconsciously, as he did so many times before. Then he came across something that seemed to catch his eye, a strange public service announcement.

Where he lived very, very few came on as while minor crimes were plentiful, major crimes were not. Further still, the weather seldom become something life-threatening.

“‘...ease do not fear, the military in currently supervising major townsites in response to today's terrorist warning. There is nothing to fear at all for the common populations,’ replied the Minister of Defence regarding the commotion brought upon an anonymous group. Seizing several news channels to relay a message, or arguably a warning of sorts, to viewers across the globe.”

“What the hell is so big that it would cause a politician himself to get off his decrepit ass? Not even calling a damned spokesmen for the report?” Muttered Andrew in between the almost muted announcement between the news reporter.

“...”

“So are you going-” started Andrew before he was cut off by the news reporter’s professional, upbeat voice.

“..that was the broadcast. Oddly enough, considering the effects we’ve spoke of previously it has yet to be taken off air. If this isn’t your first time listening to the broadcast you will likely be unaffected, however, for those just tuning in... “

Even with some semblance of a warning - albeit only implied - he couldn’t prepare himself in time. A flood of knowledge came into his head, causing his head to feel as though it was was being pressed into a vice. Flailing around due to the excruciating sensation, he smashed his arms on the coffee table. Leaving another small crack into splintered wood and littering the floor with bills due to the sudden sweep of his arms.

After the pain died down to a marginally more reasonable level, he felt something ominous happening inside his head.

Feeling a strange sensation transmit from his brain to his his eyes he tightly closed them on reflex.When he opened them, however, a video seemed to loading in front of him. First, a blank sheet of blinding white light covered the vast majority of his vision, leaving only the corners of the his vision free, to show that he just barely wasn't entirely blind. Almost immediately afterwards, a small translucent loading cursor appeared right in the middle of the screen. It was as if attached to the centre of his retina itself.

‘Shit! Where’s that smoke?! Well… fuck, that couch was old as hell, but still that's one hell of a cigarette burn,’ sighed while craning his neck in an unsightly manner to catch sight of smoldering couch, pouring the remainder of a week old glass of water on it and smacking it a few times for good measure. It certainly wasn’t an easy task - using only his peripheral vision - however, it was dealt with all the same after a few struggling attempts.

“Okay, are you going to screw with me now or actually start? Start, activate, vaminos, go?” Murmured the obviously annoyed man after restlessly waiting for about two minutes.

Giving up on the invasive screen in front of him, he struggled to his feet. Feeling his way around to the kitchen, admittedly after knocking into a few chairs around, smacking an already bruised apple off the counter. He finally made it to what felt like the fridge, before pulling out his supposed dinner for tonight. ‘How the hell do blind people do this? God damn it, this bloody screen keeps following wherever the hell I look. Okay, I totally regret ordering pizza or… well, anything I can actually eat mindlessly,’ cursed Andrew as he threw his supposed dinner back in the fridge irritably.

Annoyed at the whole situation, Andrew pulled out another cigarette from the pack in his pant pocket. Feeling his way around to make sure he knows where everything is he finally calmed slightly. After an arduous process, he cleared away a small area before locating an ash tray and flicked his lighter, taking a puff.

“Oh for fucks sake-”

Hello, Andrew Marks, we solemnly apologize for the delay in relaying this message, yet, there seemed to be complications associated with remote access of your neurological system. Nonetheless, we are happy to congratulate as the 1 millionth contestant in this latest social experiment. You may be feeling rather apprehensive over this occurrence, but please do bear with us as we will work on the system’s kinks out as they appear.

Who are we you ask? You humans are rather predictable. This is an automated message, admittedly somewhat tailored to one’s language and circumstances. I digress, we are known as the Corporation in your tongue. We work to supervise human behaviour. We are not, ‘Gods,” as some may be quick to assume, we simply pride ourselves on the continuous development and treatment of our experimental subjects. At midnight, you may find yourself in a rather precarious situation but be assured it was all designed by you humans one way or another. For good or bad.

Those not registered or are not within the preset requirements will be converted into, well, something to the effect of NPC’s, or so your culture has deemed to name as such. Various abilities and ‘improvements ‘ have been downloaded into your genetic structure allowing for increased growth potential thus you should have the power the survive in this world. If not, well, it was likely the treatment you may receive ‘in-game’ is not much different than you treated your fellow humans prior. Remember this, for you ‘gamers’ out there, no saves, no redos, it’s purely based on your power to survive and rebuild. Furthermore…

We apologize for this interruption, it seems as though it is almost time to start. Good luck, Andrew.

With an instinctive glance at the stove-top clock, showing 12:00 in blurred red lights, Andrew turned before flicking the ash from the half burnt cigarette and taking a long drag to reflect on the previous message.

“Well, at least I can finally fucking see again. Damn, it’s time? What the hell is going to happen, an apocalypse of sorts? Can I just sleep through this, seems like the best bet, considering I guarantee there is a ninety percent chance I’ve gone completely insane.”

With that said, feeling exhaustion hit him, he ashed out his cigarette instinctively just before finally drifting off into a near comatose sleep. Advertisement Support "Ephemeral Cycle" PayPal Patreon Previous

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Chapter RSS About the author 3 Fictions 65 Posts 2 Threads Ambush Follow Author Saturday, December 19, 2015 12:48:20 PM Monday, January 4, 2016 7:20:24 AM Canada Shy Penguin

Bio: Chronic Inability to Finish Stories; CIFS for short. A major affliction that has gripped me in its steely maw for weeks, months, and (shivers) shows no sign of stopping.

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