54NITY.mp3

[FlockOfHens]

Watch him cower in fear and suffer,

Watch his senses glitch and buffer,

Watch his classmates be bleak and bitter,

Watch his 54N17Y begin to whither.

(((A14: RIKARIO DALTON - GAME START)))

[FlockOfHens]

Rikario Dalton jolted awake as if waking from a hellish nightmare. Beads of virtual sweat ran down his head as he rapidly breathed in and out. He sat up still affected by the shock of the events earlier. The glistening white room, the invisible restraints from his chair, Zeph wielding a gun, and Mr. Franklin...
His blood splattered over the classroom, and that man on the screen...
Is he..?

Rikario ran his hands over his face and through his hair, sighing in confusion. "No," he thought to himself. "That can't be him... This has to be some sort of joke right? Yeah, that's what it is, a prank!" He stood up as he was immersed in thought. This could be some sort of sick, twisted joke set up by the entire school, or maybe even by the school's alumni, that has to be it! Maybe his brother could also be part of this scheme, maybe that guy on the screen was some actor with fake blood, or maybe Zeph was bluffing with them by using a fake gun. Whatever the case was, this was a horrible joke, and Rikario didn't plan on staying for long. He closed his eyes, and said the magic words:

"L-log off..."

When he opened his eyes, he was still in the same room he awakened from. He expected to be in his bedroom in his house with his family, but no; he was still here. Maybe if he spoke up more clearly?

"Log off..."

...

Still nothing. He was still here, in a school laboratory where a digitalized hell was awaiting him outside. The fear started to get to him.

"...p-p-please..?"

It was no use. There was no escape, no matter how hard he tried. Rikario could feel his heart rate beat faster with each second, his fright starting to cloud his mind with the reality of his situation. What if this wasn't a prank at all? What if Zeph Newman is part of some evil organization? Were they testing him and his classmates as guinea pigs? Is Mr. Franklin dead? Was that going to happen to his body if he-

"Stop, you're overthinking again." That's right, his emotions swayed him again. Prank or not, he still needed to calm down. He needed to remember what his IEP counselor had taught him...

"Breath in..."
He slowly inhaled the air around him, letting his mind focus on his lungs as they expanded.
"Breath out..."
He slowly exhaled from his mouth, parts of his stress slowly fading out from his head.
"In..."
His lungs expanded again, this time his mind was now set on expelling more of his fears.
"And out..."
With one final exhale, he felt his mind clear and whole again, as he finally looked at his surroundings.

[FlockOfHens]

As he looked around, he noticed that the room he was in looked a lot like his third-period class. Everything looked the same as before until he noticed a few changes. The doors to the classroom were replaced with heavy vault doors, there were a few more chemicals in Erlenmeyer flasks and Test tubes than there were before, and apart from that, a lone backpack sat atop an empty teacher's desk. His backpack.

Rikario quickly rushed over to see what contents his bag had for him. What were supposed to be his school supplies such as his books, pencils, and other miscellaneous items were replaced with the items Zeph explained. A pillow, a first aid, some food... A cylinder? Two of them even. As he looked closer, the first cylinder looked blackened with an open center at the top while the other had a cap of some kind. He decided to first take the capped cylinder to see what it was. As he pulled it out, it revealed to be a spray can of some kind... The canister itself was contained in a protective case made from hardened plastic with a small chain loop at the bottom. Confused, he decided to put it back into his bag and went for the other item. As he cautiously grabbed it from his bag, the cylinder revealed to be attached to an unusually shaped object. Taking a second look, he finally noticed the shape too well, a gun.

The sight of it made him flinch just a moment, bearing a reminder of what his classmate bore in front of his social studies teacher. He carefully held the gun in both hands and gently bounced it up and down. The firearm felt weighted just by carrying it alone. Was it the bullets, the attachment, or the gun itself? Still contemplating his weapon of choice, he noticed a piece of paper sticking out from his backpack. Curious, he places his gun on the table and gives it a read.

[ciphermitarai]

<!--[A08] registered. Glasses donned, not active, function unknown. Gun drawn.-->

Nate's pace was slow, methodical, even if his breaths were panicky and dry from raggedness. He'd spent some time hiding, true, but how much more of it could he realistically take? His antsy heart longed for something better, something higher-caliber, something that just isn't the smallest gun to have ever gone to market. He'd heard enough taunting back home about small things, thanks.

The quiet hung ever heavier over his head. Envisioning himself the hero of an action game, he stepped over his own past, for his mind was too riddled with fear to do anything coherent but act. He must act now, must he not?

Deeply, he knows he'd be among the first picked off. That left no time for thought. That left adrenaline alone.

It began to wear down on him, treading through these halls. The thought that a straight shot might appear from around a corner and take him out from long range and then that's it, he lost. His eyes darted around his surroundings, too late to register anything like chemicals that might help him back where he woke up, too early to find anything new, just in time to tire himself out. His steps were heavy with the weight of all of that fear—for to Nate fear wasn't a flighty, buzzing thing, but something that weighed down like a stone in a lake. And it droned so incessantly, unlike a computer monitor's labor in that it brought no joy, that his sudden spurt of restlessness (mistaken for bravery, perhaps) dissipated entirely.

A squeak of sneakers on the floor was enough to convince Nate to throw himself against the nearest set of metal doors, banging on them when he realized how heavy they were. Already, really, he was going to die! He was going to die, and someone was approaching! Eventually he pushed hard enough while holding the handle down to start pushing the unlocked door open, knowing that safety as a concept didn't belong to him but death was and as such just like everything else in Nate's life it could be evaded he could just run and hide like he should have in the first place that was exactly the thing he was fit to do up until this day that he died—

Of course he wouldn't realize it was his own sneakers that had made the sound in the hall.

[FlockOfHens]

Reading through the paper, Rikario could see every step-to-step instruction printed in his manual. The smallest of details weren't left out as the manual explained how both of his given items work. He also learned about what his two items are. First, his utility was pepper spray, the same kind the police use no less. The paper only explained how to turn off the safety cap and where to aim the spray. Along with a few general warnings of the spray's effects, he was able to figure it out quickly. The second part was how his gun, or the "Heckler & Koch USP Tactical" to be exact, had operated. Turned out that the cylinder attached to the gun's muzzle was a suppressor, meaning that if he were to shoot, the sound would be dampened just a bit. Right now, he could see that the safety of his gun was currently locked in place. So if he were to switch it off right now, and pull the trigger, then-

BANG

Rikario shifted his head towards the metal doors. It sounded like someone was trying to break their way in here. Then he noticed the door's handle, rattling until slowly went down. Someone was behind that door. Was it someone he knows? Someone he doesn't? A friend or foe? He needed to hide, like now. Like hidden, like now. NOW.

Rikario quickly and discreetly got his belongings, including his gun, and hid under the open space in the teacher's desk.

[ciphermitarai]

The figure that dashed in as soon as the doors shut quickly began working to lock, if possible, and then barricade the door. A bulky figure, unathletic—clothed in teal and grey loungewear despite all of the possibilities of Cyber Reality—loose silver hair—horned headphones—magenta eyes fluorescently lit—these are the things Rikario may catch sight of as the figure dodges back and forth in search of things to barricade the door with.

And frustratingly, Nate didn’t find much that he could use. Panting already and refusing to move the widdle baby gun from his sweating hands, he awkwardly pushed a desk up and gave up after that, donking his head down on the desk in exhaustion. He… didn’t really have much physical stamina, did he?

His head lolled to the side.

That was the mistake.

Suddenly, with the click of a button on his sick new glasses, Nate could see everything. With wide eyes and a suddenly nauseous stomach he watched as the entire surrounding area’s walls vanished from sight.

“What the fu—“ He couldn’t help saying something, even if he quickly censored himself. People were listening. People were always listening for that moment of weakness. It was almost as dizzying as the effect.

Thankfully, Rikario had chosen a desk to hide behind and not a wall. And in any case, Nate was no threat. He didn’t seem to want to hurt anyone anyway—just defend himself. And he held his gun out, spinning in a circle as if to weed out who, exactly, had inflicted this nauseating-yet-tactically-useful ability upon him, granting him enough stability to speak. That did not help the nausea.

“Hey! Hey! I know someone’s there! Turn it off!”

… It must be stressed that this gun is the size of a goddamn baby fist.

[FlockOfHens]

He first heard someone enter and shut the door as swiftly as they came. Then he heard them fumbling with the door lock. Rikario silently peeked over the desk to see who it was. A teal jacket, silver hair, horned headphones...
He recognized him; it was Nate, Nate Larson. But something was off about him, and it wasn't the new glasses. It looked like he was holding something in one of his hands. However, he could quickly tell that he was pissed, royally pissed even, sending a chill down Rikario's spine. He then saw Nate drag a nearby table near the door he entered from. He soundlessly hid back in the desk using the audible noise to aid him. By the looks of it so far, it looked like Nate was barricading himself from something; or was it someone? From his position, Rikario was in a rough start. He should've left the lab sooner, then he wouldn't have been trapped in with someone else. A scared kid trapped with an angry kid, how will that en-

“Hey! Hey!"

Rikario froze like a statue as he held his breath. Nate suddenly spoke up, but Rikario couldn't see who he was talking to. Maybe there was someone else outside the barricaded door. That would be the likely assumption, all he has to do right is to remain si-

“I know someone’s there! Turn it off!”

Scratch that, Nate saw him. Did he hear him duck back down as he dragged the table? Or did hear the slightest breath Rikario made in the middle of the silence? He could reach into his bag to grab his gun or pepper spray right now if he could, but just opening the bag now would cause noise. And he wasn't even sure if talking his way out was possible. He sounded pissed, but from what? So Rikario remained under the desk, unable to know how to proceed.

[ciphermitarai]

If they were still in hiding, then certainly they were scared. And that meant Nate had the upper hand, and that meant, from all of his years of Splatoon, that he had time that shouldn't be wasted considering alternatives. Just act. Just act. Just—

The silence gave way to more and more dread. What if whoever was doing this to him was waiting for him into move into perfect position for a clean headshot? Just act. Lord knows he'd often done the same. Just act. But that wasn't here. That was in a silly kid's game with ink and cephalopods. Just act. A game he'd probably never play again, now that the shock was beginning to wear off. It only left a new kind of itself in its wake. Just act. And what if he didn't see his mother again? Just act. And what if everyone else died, too, and this was all real? Just act. Because this couldn't actually be real, could it? Just act. He'd been operating under the assumption that it was, but what is logically known is different from what is instinctually known. Just act. Just act. Just

His hands were shaking. He couldn't shoot like this. And if anyone was hiding here, they were waiting for him to come into position until he... damn, was his headache getting worse or was it just him? Instinctively he flipped up the glasses the way he had a thousand times over in real life and... the walls were back.

Huh?

So bewildered was he for a brief second that he forgot about the wave of grief crashing over him. Oh, that's what those were for. Maybe there was a manual. He hadn't really bothered to check.

You're losing time. Just act.

Upon the realization that he'd been taken off guard by a full minute to reconcile the glasses and their wall-removing abilities, Nate fired a warning shot.

It practically bounced off the wall. It was like throwing a ball at a high speed. The sound of the shot was entirely negligible. Immediately he regretted wasting his ammo like that. Immediately he regretted every single fucking decision that led up until now. Everything was so fucked and everyone was going to kill him and he was actually going to die, he really was going to die, he didn't even have anything to act with there was no point and he sank to the ground in wild despair oh he was never going to prove anyone wrong he was dead before his life even began he was so dead he was so dead he was so...

[FlockOfHens]

Rikario was still going through his options of what to do with Nate. What if he made a peace offering? He could give him his pillow and two of his lunch boxes. As redundant as it sounds, he could try and-

BAM

A gunshot! RIkario covered his ears and hunched under the desk even more. He was armed with a gun of all things! How did he not see it sooner?! It's too late now. At any moment Nate was going to walk over here and point his firearm right up to his forehead and pull the trigger. And even if Rikario were to stand up and confront him, there's a good chance that Nate would still have the upper hand. He cupped his hands over his mouth to cover his shakey breathing. He could feel digital tears swelling up near his eyes as he visibly trembled in fear. He couldn't move, couldn't speak, couldn't fight.

He was trapped, just like a caged animal.

[ciphermitarai]

Except why would someone about to shoot you be crying?

It’s not the long, drawn-out sobs of a melodrama, no—it’s quick, short breaths that start off Nate as his knees hit the ground. It didn’t feel like they did. Reality was violently ripped out from underneath him and the Kolibri fell from his hands, skittering out to the floor—not close to Rikario, but in his view. This wasn’t reality. He was… used to floating away from his own body, like a bad glitch but physical, but here the… the…

It’s at times like this when you look death in the face that words become an unnecessary accessory.

He falls forward on his hands. He tries to steady himself as though his heart might fall out. If it did he’s so distant-feeling all of a sudden he might not even be surprised. There was no threat. He’d just psyched himself out into thinking there was one.

Right? He’d just put on the glasses. No one was there.

Cycling through emotions left Nate nauseated and dizzy. He’d scared himself into wasting ammo when no one was around! How was he ever going to make it more than a few minutes? How was he ever going to say goodbye to April? Thursday? Tiffany? Ethan? Mom?

Mom?

[FlockOfHens]

It was going to be all over soon. By the time Nate reaches this desk, that's it. He was going to be dead before he even tried to fight back. But amidst his shaky breaths, he had heard something odd just from the other side. He had first heard a thud landing on the ground, followed by a few short breaths. He then heard metal clattering on the floor, which he assumed was the gun.

What was going on? Did Nate get injured? No, that can't be, unless the bullet ricocheted off the wall and back to him. As he listened closer, he heard more quick breathing. It sounded like something was wrong with Nate. Should he check on him? But then, what if this was a rouse? A way to get him to get out of his hiding spot and find him? Rikario listened in to try and analyze Nate. By how he was breathing, it sounded like he was panicked. He was going to speak up but stopped himself. Was he sure he could trust him? Was he sure that he wasn't playing with him? That he still doesn't have another weapon at the ready? But then again, "if he doesn't try, he'll never know." He remembered his counselors telling him that. Who knew that they were right all along?

With his decision finally settled, Rikario quietly crawled out from under the desk, leaving his backpack and his weapons at the side, and walked over to the desk's side with light footsteps. At this point, he could finally see Nate Larson himself. Nate was on the ground, landed on his hands and knees, and Rikario finally took a look at the gun itself. It was... unfortunately small compared to his gun, even without the silencer. But returning to Nate, he looked like he was out of it. Whether the panic or the stress had got to him, he was not ok. Was he scared, like him? He wanted to know, and he was going to find out, as Rikario musters up the courage to call him out,

"N-n-n-nate.....?"

[ciphermitarai]

And despair and more despair and OH WHAT THE FUCK

Nate scrambled for the not-Sploosh-o-matic upon hearing more sounds, but in doing so accidentally pushed it to skitter against the wall. Oh he was so dead. Volleying between the vague haze of dissociation and frightening bloody reality left him somehow even more nauseated than the glasses. Before he could remember to think or look or breathe he pulled the gun out before him and prepared to fire some worthless shots so it could at least be said he could’ve gone down fighting and then he finally looks up at his assumed assailant and he—

“… Rikario?”

Rikario was fortunate in that he held little controversial or popular reputation, lest he catch a few baby-fist-sized punches to the chest. But Nate lowered the gun—slowly—upon catching sight of another quiet, unassuming person. Nate knew little of his classmates, but of Rikario he at least knew that.

And his arms are trembling with nerves. And his eyes are darting about. And everything about him is shaking. And Rikario wouldn’t hurt him, would he? It was too early for people to buy into it, right? People… other than him, of course, but but but—

The gun didn’t fully go away—understandably—but Rikario at least was no longer being threatened.

And best—or more accurately least bad—of all, Rikario seemed frightened too.

The silence was heavy.

[FlockOfHens]

He had to admit, there could've been a better approach to this. Rikario was surprised when he saw the gun pointed at him, even making him flinch as he raised his arms in response. For a moment, no shots were fired, until...

"...Rikario?"

He had stopped staring at the gun and turned his attention to Nate. The two have finally met each other, eye to eye. Luminant magenta meeting green and blue, one on the brink of tears while the other in a dizzied haze. As Nate slowly lowered his gun, but not enough to lose aim on Rikario's body, Rikario gently lowered his arms. The two have only passed by in the halls, let alone rarely interacting with each other, but here they are. They both stood there, scared to death, and confused about where they were and why.

And for a moment, there was only silence.
No movement, no talking, no crying, no guns...
It was just...
...quiet...

"...S-s-s-sor... ry... I-I... Uhhhhmmm..." Rikario tried to break the silence in some way, but he couldn't find the words to do so. He wanted to say that he wasn't armed and that he didn't mean to harm him, so he went with another approach. Rikario raised his hands to meet near his head, almost as if he had been caught by the police. "I-I don't... mean... a-any... ah-I mean... I'm... n-not g-g-going... to..."

[ciphermitarai]

Ah, and now it was he who was the villain. It was odd, really. Nate could not mentally win.

... The gun was fully lowered. He was blubbering like Nate had been just a moment ago. Though he could barely feel the hands at the ends of his faded arms, he could certainly feel the ghost of tears painting his face. They were run over with a new quiet coat. It began to crash over his head. It all was crashing down and he was the hologram, light interrupted, unable to move. His mouth did, but he couldn't seem to make a sound.

A better man would apologize to Rikario. A better man would derive no satisfaction from the fear of other people. A better man would not feel good knowing that he could inspire fear in others.

Nate couldn't control what he felt, but he could set it aside and drown it in the torrent of his own emotions.

...

"N... no, I'm not. No, I'm sorry. I..." He says things after time, but his voice feels hollow and unreal. "I just thought that you—"

He still clutched the gun like a child might clutch their toys at night to keep a monster at bay, but at least Rikario didn't seem to be that monster. Nate wasn't trusting, and he'd shoot if he had to, if he even had the inkling (ha!) that it might be necessary. But at the same time, Nate wasn't (yet) a monster himself.

"You're not with them, right?" He asks it as if the answer will reduce his sense of apprehension, but at least it's some kind of conciliatory measure.

[FlockOfHens]

(As the silence breaks, Nate sees that Rikario has a hard time trying to maintain eye contact with him. His eyes would constantly dart around to the right, and back at Nate then to the right, and back at Nate. Another noticeable problem was, of course, his stuttering. To accompany this, his voice sounds meek and fragile. You can tell that he's trying his best to communicate, even with these difficulties.)

...

Rikario felt comfort as Nate went over and apologized for his actions prior. Even if Nate still clutched the lowered gun in his hands, he felt safe knowing that no harm was coming from him right now. But upon hearing his question if he's part of "them," meaning if he's playing the game or not, he started to question that himself. To be honest, he wasn't sure where he currently stands right now. On one hand, he's being forced to play with the hopes of getting out of here, otherwise, everyone will suffer if they all refuse to go by the rules. On the other hand, he can't bring himself to harm another student. He can't, he doesn't want to, and he never will. Sure, may have a few grudges against a few of his classmates, including a few of his old friends, but he wouldn't consider the fact of harming someone else, let alone killing them in cold blood.

"I..." Rikario says, trying to answer. "I-I d-don't... I-I-I'm just... sc-cared... I d-d-don't know... w-what... to do..."