I sat in the waiting room, praying to God almighty that Chris was going to be okay. For every second that passed by, I started to lose hope. I should've stuck with flower picking today.
My name is Elise, and I'm a florist by profession. But let's face it, selling flowers in Era doesn't really cover the bills, so I resorted to another form of income: Pk. What I basically do is murder innocent passer-bys in cold blood, with the help of my partner, Chris, brutally ravage them for any functional organs and market them off to the nice lady in white behind the dairy aisle of the 24/7 Mart which is conveniently a stone's throw away from my workplace. No big deal.
So my daily routine goes like this: Check into work, sneak off to pk, lunch break ( The florist offers a decent vegetarian meal), more killing, come back at 3p.m. and fake work 'till 3:30p.m. which is when our Boss, Jenn comes in to check on us, sneak off to pk some more, and end my shift. This pretty much sums up my daily bread and butter.
it was the month of March of 2016, a gorgeous morning with warm sunshine, singing birds, and distant sounds of gunshots that echoed from the bustling streets of Era City. I got ready everything I needed for the day: my uniform, a flower basket, a small variety of tulips which a customer ordered and my trusty Browning Automatic Rifle. I walked down the streets to my place of work. Another average morning, I thought to myself. The smell of fresh bullets and the sound of clamorous gunshots overwhelmed me. Players were running around screaming in fright of the vile pkers, who sadistically enjoyed the terror in the players. The luckier ones escaped; the not-so-lucky ones endured a merciless, painful death. I'm one of the bullies, to say the least. I checked into work at 8:31 p.m.
"1 minute 43 seconds late." Lucy, who takes the attendance, stops her stopwatch and scribbles in her notebook. " I wish to not see such tardiness from you again in the future." "Sorry." I said, briefly before walking away. Ever since they changed the person who takes attendance, my pk schedules have been a bit off. Normally when Old Lady Helen was in charge she just doesn't care. But a few days ago she was the target of a few ravenous pkers and ultimately died outside a cemetery (how convenient). So Lucy was in charge. She monitors every action that goes on like a hawk. She's like that one strict second language teacher in middle school who wouldn't let you use the bathroom unless you provide solid evidence that your bladder is about to explode. But I tolerate her. It's a good thing we work in different sections; I pick the flowers from all over era while she ties them up into bouquets to be sold to hopeless romantics proposing to girls in Astros. After fumbling about with the flowers for a bit, I picked up my flower basket and rusty Browning Automatic Rifle. " I'm off!" I shouted, as I headed towards the door.
I quickly make my way to Greenroads Cafe, which is just opposite the flower shop. Chris works in Greenroads Cafe as a waiter. So he, too, needed the extra income. He told his partner to cover his shift and we were off. "Let's go!" I said, bursting with excitement, but my excitement slightly faded when Chris took a short time to respond back "Sure,". Something felt funny today, something was a bit fishy about Chris. " Hey Chris, you alright? You seem a bit..." I couldn't find the exact word, it was on the tip of my tongue. He stared blankly at me for a while before answering "yea, I'm fine". Chris was a very strongly built, 6 ft 4 in guy who isn't really the type to be sick unless he is evidently scarred. I didn't see it as a matter and went out to pk.
Blood was spilling, players were screaming. I was on a roll, a rampage, a murderous maniac with a flower apron. I successfully scored 10 brains, 7 hearts, a couple of limbs and a few bones. I also manage to get a large amount hate messages from my phone, some pleading me to stop, some threatening, and even one with such a high level of vulgarities that not even I have never seen before, and I grew up in Era. But I digress. However, Chris was falling back. He would normally be piling up the corpse while effortlessly slaughtering all players within a small radius with his Vulcan Minigun. Today he seemed to be struggling. He started to have difficulty handling his machine gun, then he reacted very slowly to all the players who come near him. Although I inquired many times about his condition, he gives the normal "I'm fine."
After accumulating a rather large amount of body parts, I decided to sell them. Chris and I entered the 24/7 Food Mart, or rather, I walked into the 24/7 Food Mart. Chris stood outside the glass doors of the food mart. I gestured the "come-on-in!" sign, no response. I opened the door for him but he just stood there, staring blankly at the door. "Chris, what's wrong?" nothing. At the spur of the moment, Chris suddenly ran into the food mart and hit my face with his chest. "Chris?! what the hell!" I exclaimed, adjusting my jaws. "What just happened?" he asked. " I have no idea, you seem so zoned out before you entered the shop and suddenly you just ran into me." It took him a while to respond again. " I'm going to sell the body parts" That was odd. Chris was normally a very apologetic person; once he spilled hot coffee on me. I said it was okay but he said sorry and insist on buying me coffee for the whole week. Although I denied, I ended up getting free coffee for the whole week.
We met up with the lady behind the dairy aisle. "Hai!" I greeted.
"..."
" We got some body parts for you. Fresh off the corpse. You're gonna love it."
"..."
" Monday blues, huh?"
" Guh..."
" I must say, that white gown looks stunning on you. I especially like red drop patterns. Very tasteful."
"Guhhh..."
"Okay, I'll catch you later!"
"..."
That's pretty much how our conversation went. So much for being a social butterfly. Then it was Chris' turn to sell his goods. I watched from a corner a very iconic scene: a very passive Chris selling body parts to a very motionless lady. After what seemed like an eternity, Chris finally announced that he finished his trade. Right before we exited the 24/7 Food Mart, something happened. Chris started to act wild: he was running on his spot, then he would stop for a while before vanishing and reappearing at another corner of the food mart. "Chris!" I shouted. I heart was racing, beads of sweat formed on my forehead as I watched Chris does his magical stunt of teleportation. What's happening to him? has he finally went off his rockers? was he possessed by the lady behind the dairy aisle? I considered the worst case scenario. Oh no... It couldn't be... Lag Syndrome.
"ELISE!" he yelled back. I panicked and called the paramedics. They were here in the nick of time and immediately sedates Chris and rushed him to Start Hospital. I raced through the streets of Era to get to Start hospital, I bolted as fast as my legs could take me, slightly offended that I wasn't offered an ambulance ride. I sat in the waiting room, praying to God almighty that Chris was going to be okay. For every second that passed by, I started to lose hope. I should've stuck with flower picking today. Plus being in the waiting room was somewhat unnerving, the smell of iodine filled my nostrils and I was occasionally glared at by players whom I have probably killed.
A few minutes later, a doctor walked out of the ER, with a disappointed look on his face. I dreaded this moment, I held my breath as the doctor spoke with a deep voice " Miss Elise.. regarding your friend, Chris.." he choked on his words.
His next five words made me faint.
" I'm afraid his game crashed".
So glad there's a Writer's Corner now in Era-Go :) Tell me what you guys think of this story :o
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Ex Player Relations, Ex Newspaper Team
Originally Posted by ItzTerry!
