1st Game - Tutorial in a detective Universe

Memories are a strange thing; they shape and form who we are. Right now, mine are jumbled. The last thing I remember is that I was sitting in the car. We were on our way to my grandparents for a short weekend visit. Even those memories are hazy and hard to grasp.

My head hurts as the memories from before rush through my mind. I remember now. I remember how it was. It takes a few seconds to order my thoughts, but once I've done that, I can clearly recall what happened.

I sat in the car, tired, because I had school until 1530. Not even 10 minutes after I returned from school I was rushed into the car. My luggage was packed the evening before, knowing we would leave right after I returned. We did that every so often. Just to gain a few hours more with our family many hundreds of kilometres away. I would have preferred to stay at home instead of going through all that trouble. I am not someone that enjoys being cramped up with two other people in a room with no privacy. 

As usual, my little sister was sitting in the back with our things. Which meant I in turn had to sit in the front. Like always, my mother wanted me to act as the second set of eyes. Normally that wouldn't be a problem, but right now I am far too tired to do even that. I was barely staying awake with things as they were. My mind was filled with numbness, and my eyelids were as heavy as iron, falling close every so often.

Adding onto my tiredness was the annoyance of my sister, telling our mother every little detail of the day. It felt like my sister was telling mother about every breath she took. Trying to ignore it doesn't even help, and I have my music on! Although I'm not allowed to put the music on both ears, in case my mother dearest wants to talk to me. Joining their conversation isn't really an option either, when I would feel more like a rude stranger interrupting two friends mid conversation, just to ask for the way. 

They chatter the time away, not fully attentive of traffic. I couldn't claim otherwise. Still, I force myself to stay awake, so I am at least a bit helpful. As helpful as one can be, when my blissful sleep is already more than 13 hours in the past, and every last bit of energy I had is long spent. Mother wasn't attentive, I was half asleep, and so it happened as it was to be expected. A doe ran on the street, but I wasn't awake enough to notice it in time. So I couldn't warn my mother. Her attention was otherwise occupied, more concentrated on talking to my sister than driving the car.

***

I screamed "Doe!" the moment I saw it, but unfortunately it was moments too late.

We crashed into the doe. Mother lost control of the car. The speed and angle launched us off the rail like a trampoline, flipping the car and leaving us in the middle of the road, upside down. I felt my safety belt digging into my flesh while we hung there at the mercy of oncoming traffic. It is a dreadful feeling of helplessness hanging there, watching as cars evade you at the last second. Even recounting this, I couldn't guess how many seconds passed.

I felt my head spinning, as the adrenaline was pumping through my veins. My ears were still ringing, like church bells on mess days, from the loud bang from the crash. Besides the spinning and ringing, I felt only pain. My legs, my back, my arm, my throat, my lungs they all hurt. Worst of all was the stitching feeling in my heart, as if tiny little needles were to poke holes into it, similar to when a foot fell asleep and fizzles while waking up, but far worse. 

Blood is running up my legs dripping off my tights, some of it landing on my chest, my eyes are drawn to the gaping wound, parts of the bone are sticking out. My limbs feel as if deeply asleep. Pieces of the car pressed in on me, pushing glass shards deeper into the wounds they created. My arm stuck in a claw-like grasp of metal and glass, far worse than the feeling of rose veins. With the subtle shifts in my body, the cause of pain in my throat became evident as the safety belt stretched across my neck, like a cobra constantly tightening its grasp.

Shifting the tiniest muscle in the desperate try to reduce the pressure on my neck, causes another shark pain in my rips. With each shift of a muscle it became more noticeable, stealing the breath from my tiering lungs. Each breath rattling with need, only grantig slight mercies of relief.

Each pump of my heart equals thousands of needles piercing through it, while black spots started to consume my vision. The burning got stronger. I feel as if water is flowing into me instead of the air I am so desperate for. My mouth tastes like iron, my throat is running full, yet all those sensations are as if muted. I feel that liquid flow though my nose from the inside out, dripping onto the roof of the car beneath me. I hear some painful gaps and whimpers from beside me. Some satisfaction rushes through me, just for a tiny moment before the pain swallows it up again. 

Time passes and everything fades into the back of my mind. The natural reflex to breathe doesn't stop, even when I feel only metallic tasting fluid bubbling in my mouth. Every torturous second I prayed for Death to take me faster. I hoped for help to arrive, but there was this little traitorous voice reminding me of the futility of such a hope. With each ticking second the need for me to beg for my end increased, but yet I couldn't move, I wasn't in control, I had to wait for Death to come on their terms. 

***

After all that flooded my mind I observed that the metallic smell of blood isn't there anymore. That's not exactly right, there isn't anything to smell at all. Nothing! The horrendous taste simply gone, no noise, all feels numb. Yet I feel light as if I am no longer bound by gravity. As if, that would be possible. No, no, please just no. Don't give me this hope, mind. If this is just a nightmare and I wake up in that car again, I'll truly scream this time.

I stop myself there, focusing my attention back to my observations. Panicking about things has never helped me. Slowly my gaze wanders down to my feet. I see no blood, no gaping wounds. As my eyes wander deeper they stop just as I see myself floating a few centimetres over the ground. Like actual floating. Am I a ghost now? Or am I a soul in a corporeal form? As those questions start to bother my thoughts, the panic rising, other things come to mind.

Yet I can't stop thinking over my new form of existence, I also keep wondering why it felt so painful when my memories returned. How can I feel pain, when I didn't even have a body, to begin with?Perhaps because I thought that I still had a body.There is some logic in that, kind of at least.

***

"You are quite right with your thoughts," a voice sounds behind me, it's neither soft, nor raspy, neither male, nor female, but rather melodic and soothing. Yet not something I hear with my ears but my mind, is caressed by the voice like a gentle breeze of the wind, running over your skin on a summer day. 

A bit startled, I spin around to see who is talking. Standing before me is a person with androgynous features. Their hair is black, the kind of black where the light of the surroundings seems to be drawn in, flowing down their back, it's like a dark cascade of shadows ending just above their ankles. Full lips forma a soft smile, disarming my initial alarm, while a night sky blue fabric is draped across their form. Like those, you see when they show you the gods of ancient Greece. Although, at the same time, it is different. Observing it in more detail, I notice it's more like a combination of a toga and a modern suit. If someone had ever asked me to describe it to them before, then my answer would have been: 'It's like those elegant one piece suits women often wear. The wide flowing pants with a dress like top, the back made like a cape.' Now that I see it before me, it's something very elegant and certainly missed in modern days fashion.

Finally when I stop admiring their clothes and look at their face. It is as time has stopped, the moment their eyes met mine, a blue so dark that it seems black, silver specs glittering inside it, as if glitter was caught on the surface of blue ink. It is as if the night sky was liquefied and formed into their eyes. The spell only breaks, when they clear their throat, drawing my attention back to other things. 

I shake my head to stop myself from staring any longer. "Please excuse my staring, your eyes are quite … mesmerising," I try to excuse my behaviour. My answer is the most ethereal laugh I have ever heard, like the sound of a wind chime, gently stirred by the wind, and yet also like the wind rustling the leaves. "It's quite alright. Come along, young one, we have much to discuss." Their voice is gentle and welcoming, like a warm cup of hot chocolate warming me inside out, and I get the impression they don't mind my eyes gazing at their beauty. I nod and follow along. What else can I do, obviously I died. There aren't many options here in the endless white dessert, but none of those appeal to me.

They lead the way through those strange lands, yet despite my eyes gazing at all those fascinating sights, they seem to blur in my mind as soon as I pass them. Only when we reach a vast forest of old, almost ancient trees, can I refocus again. They lead me deeper till we reach a circular clearing, a calm washes over me. Racing thoughts finally slowing, filling my head with an airy peacefulness. It's a feeling I haven't felt in a long time, the anxious need to analyse any possible threat, gone, slightly insane thoughts, just gone without a trace. We sit down and I wait for them to speak.

***

"At first I would like to apologise to you," their face a mask of helpless sorrow, "You were meant to survive this accident. But you ended up dying. Even if it was your wish to return to your old world, It's impossible for me to do so," their eyes filled with pity and a hint of knowledge, "Since your body was harmed beyond repair. It is beyond even my powers, returning your soul in another body to this world, as it would upset the balance. It pains me that you are in this situation," they seem honest in what they just said. "Although I still wish to offer you something as compensation," they add, their voice sounding almost heartbroken, to be the cause of this situation, or being the one to solve it now.

"Despite that stating the obvious, I'm a god. The god. Or whatever other thing the humans have named me over the years," the being or god states. In that moment they seem old. Not unkind or anything similar just old loaded with countless experiences, like they have seen everything and are still around unable to fade away.

After a short pause, they tell me what their offer holds, "I can offer you one of two things. The first of those is the thing everyone can choose. Namely, to go on and let their soul rest. Eventually, those souls are reborn in a new life without their former memories."

Again they pause for a short moment, letting the words sink in before continuing, "Your second option is to choose a second life. In this life, I would connect you to a game of sorts, where you are able to live like one of your Characters. I know you have created some for the stories you planned to write."

I listen to the options. Both essentially mean the same in the end, but the second option sounds just like so much more fun. Different from the lives lived in the dull and cruel world I came from. Maybe this option might grant me what this life didn't. Fun. "The first option would let me leave everything behind, forget and start completely anew. While the second option sounds far more interesting, it would force me to work through my issues and memories. Both options have benefits, but I'll still choose the second option. The downsides are as great as the benefits but that's alright with me," I decide.

The god nods: "Now you can choose the genre of your first main quest in your tutorial. Your options are Fantasy, Action, Survival, Historical or Biblical". I think about it and then say, "Okay. I choose Action as the genre." Again a nod and they speak with a loud voice full of finality, like an announcement of results of a sports event, "So be it, may your way be a successful one". Those are the last things I hear. Again, everything fades to black before my eyes.