Download Accepted

For a moment, his thoughts were muddled. There was a chance this Maysie woman was lying to him and was trying to trick him into something irreversible.

He closed his eyes, but the image of her half-mangled face appeared within his mind's eye clearer than before. The one remaining bright green eye of hers held sadness, regret, exhaustion, loneliness, and a touch of desperation.

They say a person's soul is reflected in their eyes. In her case, even with only that one eye left, he could see her lonely exhausted soul staring out at him, hoping that he could rescue her from what she felt was an unending hell.

The dry monotone voice asked again.

«Download complete. Would you like to install (Yes/no)?»

Blake Johnston took a deep breath. Here goes nothing.

"Yes."

As soon as he accepted the download, Blake expected to feel some rush of energy or power or something.

Nothing happened other than a single energy bar that appeared at the corner of his vision. It looked to be empty at the moment.

No. Not quite empty.

There was a 10 showing on the bar tab. It was such a tiny amount that he had to focus in to see anything at all.

«Congratulations. You have gained 10 power point from: Maysie Woods. Passive Sympathetic Transference.»

The voice was now fuller, more vibrant within his mind. It was still monotone and lacked any warmth, but it was at the very least, not scary and threatening like all the other voices that had screamed and howled in his head for weeks.

He had no clue what Passive Sympathetic Transference meant and was about to ask the dry droning voice to explain when that oh so familiar laughter began to reverberate throughout the apartment.

"Hahaha! You're back. I thought you'd be out exploring your world a bit, but you're just chicken shit. Hahaha!"

For the first time, Blake could see the man who had driven him to suicide.

Marvin was a small thin man in his mid forties with a shock of white dreds and a goatee that reached his chest area. He wore a tie-dyed tee shirt over ragged holey jeans and on his feet were dirty yellow flip-flops.

"Oh my God. You're a hippy," was all Blake could manage to say.

"Man, I haven't heard that word in ages, but I guess you could call me that. Welcome to hell, kid! Hahaha!"

As Marvin stood there laughing, Blake's rage began to rise. This punk ass hobo was the one who had driven him to insanity! The psychological attacks had gone on day and night until he could no longer function and had thrown his life away in a fit of despair.

"You are so pathetic, I'm gonna put you permanently out of your misery! It's been awhile since I fed on a young, tender kid like you." Marvin's eyes grew mad with maniacal greed. "Come to papa, little kid!"

He threw his arms out and swooped in at Blake, his mouth wide open, his eyes dark pockets of death.

"AAAAAAAARGGGGHHHHH!!!" Blake screamed in anguish and rage and grabbed the closest thing that he could reach.

His hands felt the familiar touch of the bright metallic lime green electric Ovation.

Power suddenly surged into his limbs.

Without stopping to think, Blake grabbed the neck of the guitar with both hands and swung the bass' heavy body at the thin hobo bum who had launched at him, arms outstretched, mouth still laughing.

In the blink of an eye, he slammed the bass' body into Marvin, striking the middle of his back with all the vengeance and anger and desperate frustration that he had stored within him all those weeks of being tortured by Marvin.

CRAAAACK!!!

Marvin fell to the floor in a mangled heap, his body bent in an unnatural angle.

Blake grimaced and looked away. Marvin's back had been broken in half.

His eyes bugged out in surprised pain as spittle leaked from his half-open mouth. He spasmed as he gasped for air; his eyes fixated on Blake's guitar with sudden appreciation.

«Congratulations. You have gained 5 power points from: Marvin Locke. Active Aggressive Transference.»

From the lower left corner of Blake's vision, another energy bar appeared at the corner of his vision.

Its placement was below that of the first bar and it was red instead of green. The green energy bar showed 0% and the red energy bar showed 5.

Blake gasped with understanding. Fighting drained his green energy, while successful aggressive hits increased his red energy.

The metallic droning voice did not stop. Again, it spoke.

«Congratulations. You have gained a new weapon: Guitar, Ovation. Level 1»

At the top left was a new entry.

[Weapon: Guitar, Ovation - Level 1]

He still did not quite understand what all this was, but at the moment, he did not have time to ask the monotone system's voice. He still had to deal with the rat on the floor in front of him.

"How…how…" Marvin gave another spasm. "How'd you pick up that guitar?" His eyes darted back and forth between the lime green Ovation and Blake's muscled forearms.

Blake's rage slowly pulled back. Sanity returned to his eyes and he hugged the guitar to his body.

"I'm so sorry," he whispered to his Ovation. His fingers began caressing the instrument that he loved so much.

His guitar was so precious to him and yet in his blind rage, he had used it as a cudgel to beat up on the sick pathetic bastard that had driven him to his death.

Mistaking the apology to be aimed at him, Marvin sighed and looked away.

"No need to apologize. I guess I deserved that beating. You were just minding your own business, living your life and I came and destroyed you. I sent you into this hell that should've never been your destiny."

Blake ignored him, turning his guitar around and checking to see if it had been damaged.

His relief was great. It looked to have survived the beating that had taken out Marvin's back.

Marvin turned back to Blake. "I guess I should be thankful you didn't immediately suck all my energy and completely killed me."

Blake glowered at him. "What the fuck are you talking about?"

"Hehehe," Marvin chuckled and then grimaced as he felt the pain in his phantom body. "In this dog-eat-dog hell, you're either the big dog or you're the little dog. If you're broken like me, you're just food for the little dogs like you."

"I'm not interested in eating you." Blake scowled, feeling sick to his stomach.

"If you don't eat me, some other nasty dog will, and I prefer to be eaten by you. Come on. Take me, you goon." He smiled, holding out his hand.

"Get away from me you nasty pervert."

Marvin's eyes grew tragic. "I need this redemption. Look at me. I'm so weak that I can't escape certain death so I fell into the Overlord's clutches. He offered me another way to escape and I took it. I should've known it was a dead-end trap."

He snarled. "But you still have a chance kid."

"What are you talking about?"

"The way to escape. You still have a chance!"

Marvin's eyes began to light up.