together in a dense vine work obscuring the other side. Held captive within those vines are images of the tormented dead, clawing their way upward, seeking a Heaven that will never accept them. Yeah, it’s super cheerful.
The Queue is a sort of shanty town that’s formed around the entrance with dusty, foot trodden streets. Most are tents belonging to vendors who will sell anything for the price of experience points or levels. Some are Non-Player Characters, but most are other players who have set up shop to try and gain some quick levels without having to do the hard work of missions. Generally the players’ prices are way too expensive.
We all enter the Queue, the new, the returning, and the respawned. Agitation, awe, frustration, and anger all mix to create a dense and oppressive atmosphere.
“Hey kid,” I overhear a familiar voice say. “You look new here. Me and my associates like to, uh, help the newer players out by offering them a position within our prestigious clan.”
The player being spoken to has all the hallmarks of a noob. His avatar is a straight-out-of-the-box default, his eyes are wide, and he never stops scanning left right, forward, and back. He might even have the noob-stimulation-overload shakes.
I stroll over and clamp my hand on the shoulder belonging to the voice’s owner.
“Don’t listen to him,” I say. “This is Rot. He’ll get you to sign up for his glorious clan and then use you as cannon fodder while he and his buddies ninja all the loot and XP.”
“You sunnova...” He twists to look at me. “Oh, ha ha, Shamshiel. Nice to see you.”
I sigh. Rot, his full username is CoffinRot, is what more experienced players would call a vulture.
“It’s hard to get out of a clan once you sign up,” I say to the new player. “Be really careful. Do some research before you join one.”
He nods. “Yeah, ok. Thanks.”
“Rot?” I let go of his shoulder with a little shove to encourage him to move on. “Leave the noobs alone until they’re at least level five, geez.”
“Yeah, whatever.” He growls at me, walking away, calling me things I don’t even recognize.
“Rot’s an asshole, and there’s lots like him. Watch your back.” I wave to the noob as I walk away.
He catches up with me before I can bring up my menu and get away from this place.
“Hey, uh, are you in a clan?” he asks.
“Nope.” I shake my head. “If you’re just starting out, it’s not a bad idea to join one now. I started playing early on and have a bunch of allies. Besides, my level’s pretty good, so I don’t worry about it.”
“Is that why that guy didn’t fight you? What level are you?”
I shrug. “Rot’s a coward. He knows I can kill him, so he won’t risk losing any XP by pissing me off.” I purposely avoid the question about my level. Unlike some MMORPGs, Revelations keeps your levels secret. “But if his buddies were here, things would’ve gotten ugly. If you want a clan, start by checking out the Ninth Circle Denizens. I’ve done some missions with them and they’re ok.”
“Thanks.”
He wanders away, eyes still wide at how real everything looks. Ha. Wait until he sees the lowers circles.
I bring up my menu. Since I logged out intentionally, I have the option to fast travel to where I’d been last. I click and feel the tingling sensation rush over my skin. I blink, and find myself standing in front of FuknDemon1.
“Sheeit, I thought you’d wussed out on me,” he says.
“Sorry. My computer’s a little slow. It took a while to install.”
“You ready?”
I nod.
“Cool. I’ll send you the team-up request.”
A second later, a pop up window flashes in front of me.
FuknDemon1 wishes to enlist your aid in a quest. Accept Y/N
I stab the air where the Y is displayed.
The mission details display. It’s a pretty simple influence mission--prod some kid into stealing some money from his mother’s purse. Not exactly fire and brimstone, damn his soul to Hell, kind of stuff. The experience points should be enough to push me to the next level. Thank god. I’ve been grinding out missions for a month trying to level up.
“So far, so good. No glitches in accepting the mission,” I say.
FuknDemon1 smiles. “OK! Let’s get going!”
We teleport to the portal.
There’s only one way into Hell, and that’s the gates. The only way out is through a single portal guarded by NPCs who, the boards say, are invincible. To get past the guards you have to be at least level five in all the major spell categories.
Sometimes noobs show up trying to race right for the Earth missions. LOL. I’ve spent hours sitting and watching them get their asses handed to them.
The guards don't give FuknDemon1 or I a second glance--I passed the minimum levels within the first ten hours of the game's release.
As we approach the portal, a popup appears before us.
Enter Destination.
Since we're currently linked as a team, only one of us has to enter the geo code.
"You do it,” FuknDemon1 says. "Just to make sure it's cool."
I punch in the code for our destination and cringe, waiting for some sirens, or for the guards to turn and pummel me.
Instead, the portal changes from a formless black mass to the image of a street. A street that, with a sinking in my stomach, I realize I know really too well.
We both step through the portal.
Standing on a street I’ve walked along hundreds of times--including just this past afternoon--I realize my initial instincts were right--it’s creepy.
Revelations always seemed realistic. The textures and lighting of the various locations I've visited were impressive. But this, being able to compare the game to reality, brings in a whole new perspective. There's the pothole I hit with my bike last summer--skinned my damn knee. The slabs of the sidewalk retain their skewed placements, rising and falling with no relation to the rest of the landscape. There's the footprints in that one slab where Danny Brascow shoved me into the wet cement so my new shoes would get ruined. From that slab of sidewalk, I look to the house I've crossed the street to avoid for the past nine years. It looks more ominous in the shadows cast by the streetlights.
What makes a kid a bully? And how do they pick their favourite targets? I mean, I'm not the smallest guy in school. I like video games, obviously, but who doesn't? All I know is that the further the distance between me and Danny Brascow, the better.
"You know that house?" FuknDemon1 asks, following my gaze. "It's where we're going for our mission."
"What?"
"Check it out." He nods toward the house.
The level of detail had me so absorbed, I missed the mark on the front door.
The Demon’s Claw--a red smear made by a bloody, inhuman, hand. The game uses it to mark target locations for missions. As I understand it, the angels have something similar, just prettier.
My chest clenches, making my breathing go all haywire. Danny’s house. God, of all the houses on this street, why his?
“You ok?” FuknDemon1 asks.
It’s not really his house. This is just a game. Just a game. Just a game...
I’m not even Tyler Drake, social fringe dweller, weakling, and game freak. No, here I’m the demon Shamshiel. And if this mission delivers the promised experience points, I won’t just be a demon anymore--I’ll be a Fallen Angel. As far as Hell goes, there’s no higher rank.
I shake my arms, trying to loose the bullshit feelings. It’s a game. We do our thing, get our points, no one gets hurt, and I level up.
“No. I’m good.” It takes effort to keep my voice from shaking. “Just a little weirded out at how real it looks.”
“I know, right?” he says with a wink. “C’mon.”
In Earth realm NPCs can’t see or hear us and we can pass through solid objects like ghosts.
FuknDemon1 phases through the front door. I draw a deep breath and follow.
>
I’ve never been in Danny’s house, so I have no way of knowing if it’s an accurate reproduction--it seems plain and generic. I suppose that’s to be expected. Google maps and other satellites would deliver the data for an accurate exterior. I guess interiors are where they save memory and processing power. But then, I never thought any of the other places I’ve been inside were plain. Maybe the interiors differ with each geo code location.
We pass through the house without care. In our current forms, we’re incorporeal to any objects here. The game compensates, though, so we don’t sink down through the floor.
After climbing the stairs, we check out the bedrooms. The first one we look in has a girl my age sleeping in it. Danny does have a sister, but this girl looks nothing like her. My chest relaxes a bit.
“What’s your Influence level?” FuknDemon1 asks.
“Forty-two,” I lie. It’s actually maxed at level one hundred. I like keeping some of my cards hidden.
His eyes widen. “Whoa. I’m only at twenty-one. Ok, how about you influence the target, and I’ll use Manipulate to keep the parents asleep.”
“Sounds good.”
He heads for the master bedroom while I make my way to the only other remaining room. Fingers of light claw their way out from beneath the closed door. Hopefully that means the target is awake. Using Influence on a NPC while they’re sleeping usually results in them shaking it off like a bad dream.
I phase through the door. Despite the girl looking nothing like Danny’s sister, my breath still catches in my throat, as I expect to come face to face with my daily tormentor. Instead, the target sitting on the bed reading a car magazine blessedly looks nothing like