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Don't Dance with the Devil's Heir
A Yellow Banshee-inspired story by Michael M.
PART I
It was a dark and stormy night. The only visible light was the green, comforting glow from the Xbox's power switch. It was time for a showdown.
I slowly lifted one controller off the ground.
"Pick a game. Any game." I challenged, snickering.
A smile spread on my lips as he went through the gametypes. This should be a cakewalk.
Battle Creek, Slayer, First to 50 kills, I thought.
As we warped into the alternate world, I prepared my weaponry. One needler, one Assault Rifle.
Quietly, I crept around the side of my base, bearing four fragmentation grenades. I gently tossed one up the tall rock arch directly in front of me. In exchange, a rocket launcher flew down to my feet.
Perfect... I climbed onto the base, my eyes still on the rocket launcher that lay on the ground. There he stood, frantically searching for me with his sniper rifle in its lair.
Fool. I knew that was the one place never worth camping with the sniper rifle, especially when it is in such a small area.
To scare him, and to push him out of zoom mode, I fired three round of my assault rifle into him. Gasping, he turned to spot me. Within seconds, four bullets had fired and I had disappeared over the edge of the base. I crouched, readying my rocket launcher.
By this time, he had jumped from the sniper spot and was hiding behind the rock arch.
I zoomed in. He was mine. I fired off a rocket, splashing into the creek and launching him where I could see him. He was now on low health and shields, so I moved in for the kill.
Quickly, I rounded the corner and chased him with needles. He turned, surprised by the barrage and decided to start meleeing with his pistol in an effort to make my knees feel slightly tickled.
"HAH!" I cried as I dodged his puny efforts to win and smacked him in the back with the butt of my assault rifle. He collapsed in a heap of death.
So, over the next minutes, much humiliation and corpse humping would ensue.
When the score finally pushed its limits, I simply fired a rocket at his feet and launched him into the sky.
"Wha... Wha.. Huh? But- You're- No way- There's- I..." He stuttered, amazed that I had just beaten him at Halo 50-1. "You cheated!" He cried.
"No, I don't cheat. I just roxxorz at halo." I replied wickedly.
"No way, man. I want my money back!" The young man yelled.
"Sorry. What does the sign say? NO REFUNDS."
I peeled a label from the rest and slapped a sticker on his woollen jersey.
A horrified look spread on his face. His eyes widened.
I cackled, laughing maniacally as lightning flashed over the rumble of thunder.
Scared, he bolted for the door. It slammed shut as I beat him to it.
"My. Money."
"Screw it, man! Take my whole damn wallet!" He threw it in front of me and raced up the stairs.
As he left the building, he slammed the door shut behind him and ran off to his car under the pouring rain. The wind blew my wooden, creaking sign outside my door back and forth, which read:
Michael M.
Halo Player Extraordinare
If you win, get triple what you pay
If you lose, you lose triple what you pay
No refunds
Still cackling, I put the money away in a draw. Satisfied with the results, and eager to get a decent challenge, I sat myself down next to my PC and looked for a server on Halo PC.
Played it... Played it... Played it... I thought to myself as I browsed through the listings. All of these I had played on, and all of them I pwned on.
I let out a sigh after being kicked from the last server on the list I hadn't been on. In their dictionary, my picture's next to "cheater" apparently...
Unsatisfied, I decided to pack my bags and call it a day, ready to skim the news of HBO.
Just when I was about to leave, however, a single server popped up from below my mouse.
"Maybe just... One more..." I sighed. Most likely the owner of this server would boot me out just as he did all the others who were too good for him.
I stretched in my chair. It was time for bed. After this match, I would head hit the hay.
Once again, it was Battle Creek, 50-to-win. At this time of night, there was no wonder why there was only one opponent. Casually, I logged on ready for a fight.
I glanced at the scoreboard. The other guy was named Pfhorever...
I stretched my finger muscles then grabbed the nearest pistol. Quickly, I crept to my favorite hiding spot behind the blue base. I sprinted towards the active camouflage.
Whump!
A fragmentation grenade detonated, sending the camo flying away from me. Frustrated, I hid in a corner. As I expected, my target came running to steal the camo from me. Out of the shadows I came, delivering one melee express to the back of his head. He fell to his knees.
I reached for the crouch button before realizing I would wait until the end of the game to corpse hump.
"Very good..." He wrote in the in-game-chat.
"Yeah, I get that a lot." I responded, taunting.
"Well, if you are so confident about it, what are you willing to bet on your winning of this game?" He challenged.
"By the looks of it, I'd bet my soul. But, if you want to do money..."
"Wait- Hold on... You said you wanted to bet your soul?"
Puzzled, I rose an eyebrow. "Why... It was a joke..."
"Okay, never mind then. Let's just play."
"Wait. Heh, I suppose it would be fun. After all, it's just a silly little bet and I'm the best player around so nothing will be lost, right?" I said.
“Right, sure. Okay, one bet coming up. If I win, I get your soul. This should be rewarding.”
I smiled at our little agreement…
He stood on the rock in front of me.
I tightened my grip on my Assault Rifle and circled him. He followed me with his aim.
Carefully, I stepped back.
"Wassamatter? Chicken?" He asked.
It was just a stupid bet. Not like he could win my soul anyway. But still, something felt wrong. I pushed it out of my mind. I aimed my gun at his chest, ready to shoot.
"C'mon, Michael. There's a battle to be won." He uttered.
Slowly, my character’s hand slid onto the handle. I threw my Master Chief into him, ready to strike. I smacked down on the "F" key, swiping at him with the butt of my weapon. He slid out of the way gracefully, as if it were nothing.
In a mad attempt, I fired twenty-five assault rifle rounds into him. His shield flickered, then died. It looks like he wasn't so invincible after all.
In an attempt at retaliation, he threw a frag grenade at me. I launched into the air in an attempt to get air off the explosion. I was propelled into him right when he smacked me with his pistol.
I returned fire amidst all the bullets whizzing into the creek beside me.
Within seconds he scrambled up the ledge, dodging my fire and soon he was gripping onto the rocket launcher. My eyes widened. I desperately scrambled underneath the arch to get away from him.
I let out a cry as his rocket flew towards me. This guy was good. He had me cornered already…
WHUMP! Off went the rocket, and in a blaze of fire I emerged with one bar of health left. From this angle, I managed to get a plasma grenade out and onto the wall next to him. As I had planned, it exploded, launching him off the arch and killing him when he hit the ground.
This guy wasn't so hard after all.
I grabbed his rocket launcher and prepped it. Slowly, I aimed it at his spawn point. Ready, I zoomed in.
Nothing. I waited. I checked the spawn time. It was normal, but still no respawn… I checked the other spawn points. Maybe he left?
I glanced at the in-game chat.
Pfhorever: You're very good, Mr M. But you see, this is where it gets interesting...
I rose one eyebrow. I spun around to see him standing there waiting for me.
WHACK!
My body hit the floor. Bah.
I respawned. A grenade went off to my side. WHUMP! And to another side. WHUMP! I searched the area. He was nowhere to be seen. WHUMP! One more grenade went off in front of me. I spun around as a last fragmentation grenade went off. WHUMP!
I spun around and around, frantically searching for wherever these grenades were coming from. Boy, this guy was tricky... TRICKY! That’s it!
My crosshairs drifted directly above me, and as I had expected, there he was, standing on an invisible barrier above the map. Up went a rocket, and before he realized I had found out, he was in a bloody heap on the ground.
I cackled, and then proceeded to perform a humiliating maneuver over his body.
Michael M: Heh, you're one tough SOB, you know that? But you forgot one thing: Michael M can’t be killed.
As soon as he respawned, I did all in my power to make him suck more pain.
WHOOSH! He vanished in a dust storm and hail of shrapnel from my fragmentation grenade.
Pfhorever: Good show, good show! I knew I should have brought my kids along!
I glanced at his words on the in-game chat. I laughed as I then proceeded to cover him in a golden shower of bullets, dodging his every blow. This was getting almost too easy.
"Glurgh!" Screamed the poor Multiplayer MC who was now being beaten breathlessly as I pounded his skull with my pistol.
I did all my fingers could to throw a grenade into the cavern, which housed the sniper rifle. I cackled as it flew into my greasy paws.
He was mine.
One bullet fired. One bullet hit. One man fell to the ground.
Soon, I reached fifteen kills. 35 away from winning the game.
"My soul? You want MY soul? Well then, I'll give you MY soul!" I attached two more plasma grenades to his lifeless corpse.
I chuckled as the sky was painted seven shades of blood.
He reappeared above me, on red base. I smirked, then launched off a rocket. His head fell in my hands.
Michael M: You ready to give up?
Pfhorever: Not quite, Michael. Not quite. You see, this is where it all goes wrong. And something going wrong isn't good for you.
Michael M: Yes, I do understand this is where you give up. Don't worry, I don't charge for Internet game losses.
Pfhorever: Heh. Heh. Heh. Well, Mr M... It's not quite like that. You see, this is where your life goes horribly wrong.
Michael M: Oh, really?
Pfhorever: You don't believe me? Then let me show you, fool!
One grenade attached to my skull, and my Master Chief vanished in a cloud of blue.
Pfhorever: You see, Mr M, all these video games can be horribly bad for your health!
Michael M: Who do you think you are, man? I’ve beaten every person in my neighbourhood at this game!
Pfhorever: Who am I? Why, I'm just an ordinary loser like you. I mean, just try to beat me and you'll see that I'm perfectly human.
I sighed, and continued playing only to see him foolishly walk in the wrong direction off the rock arch, killing himself in front of my feet.
I laughed insanely.
Michael M: What a way to kill yourself! Wooh! I SALUTE you and your attempts to kill me!
Pfhorever: No, Michael. You see, that wasn't a way to kill myself. That was a way to respawn. To be reborn. A rebirth.
Michael M: ...
Michael M: You. Suck.
Pfhorever: On what? Your soul? Yes, I do. Thank you for the offer.
He launched himself from a balcony above me. I re-equipped my Shotgun. Slowly, I rounded the corner where he stood. In a dash, I threw a fragmentation grenade where I thought he stood.
I crouched, ready to grab his guns as they -- and his body -- flew over the corner. After a few seconds of no results, I stood, confused. Suddenly, a crunching sound came from over the bend. I turned only to see a warthog fly out at me, scraping at the ground. The idiot must have purposely put that there so when I threw a grenade, it would fly over and crush me when I was expecting a body to come instead. Meh. One warthog for me. I casually flipped it over then -- Wait. This was Battle Creek. Warthogs aren’t in Battle Creek. I spun around to face the Warthog -- which was no longer there. I rubbed my eyes. I could swear it was there a second ago…
Pfhorever: Hasn't your mother told you not to swear?
I started to type a response when I realized I hadn't told him what I was thinking... I looked around, mystified. When my gaze returned to the screen, the in-game chat words had disappeared.
Michael M: Uh… Did you just... uh...
Pfhorever: Did I just what?
Michael M: Did you… Bah. Forget it. It's my imagination.
Pfhorever: Whatever, man.
Still, my brain processed this. Even while a plasma grenade attached to my head, I thought.
A plasma grenade! I desperately scrambled to throw it off. Still, it clung on.
Whoosh! I vaporized.
Michael M: Typekiller.
Pfhorever: What, now I'm racist?
I rose an eyebrow.
Michael M: You know what? You are an idiot. I should just leave now.
Pfhorever: Huh? Me? When did I start treating you like a moron?
Michael M: I... Uh… Oh, gee. I'm so sorry, man. I'm just a little bit frustrated because it's real late and I'm getting paranoid. I should head off to bed.
Pfhorever: Why, you're not scared of the dark, are you? Because if you don't finish this match, I’ll do all in my power to finish it later.
Michael M: I guess you're right. After this one match, I'll head off to bed. Let's just hurry and finish the match. After all, we both know my soul roxxorz yours.
Pfhorever: Yes... Yes... That would be true… Once... Well, let's get playing, then…
Michael M: Whaa? It was a joke... And what do you mean by "once"?
Michael M: Meh. Let's just play.
Bam.
I fell to the ground. Dead.
Michael M: TYPEKILLAR!
I respawned, ready to kick ass. I jumped onto the arch, madly charging towards the rocket launcher as he fired his pistol rounds into my foot. Wildly, I launched off the arch, into the sun, just as I grabbed the RL. A rocket soon flew into where he once stood. He had disappeared already.
Uh... I puzzled.
Whamp! A fist flew into the back of my skull. I swivelled round to see him smacking me with the butt of... my skull? Noooo, surely…
Odd... Ball...? I wondered to myself. He danced upon my grave, still holding a... Plasma pistol...
I glanced from side to side. This was getting too weird. I could have sworn he was holding an oddball skull before… I shrugged. I didn’t quite see the plasma pistol correctly. That’s all.
I ran back to my body, scared that my head was missing. Nope. Sure as ever, it was still attached to the rest of the armor. Yep, it was my imagination.
But all this seemed so real... My eyebrow was now stuck in the "raised" position.
Smack! I fell down dead. I couldn't see where he had hit me from. He always seems to get me where I least expect it.
I ran back to the spot. Still, he wasn't there.
I decided to investigate. All the walking around and studying the blood reminded me of CSI.
While still studying my autopsy, one bullet flew through the air. I turned to see the streamline shaping off the sniper round. The 3cm contrail was taking a few moments to form. Slowly, I ducked. I hadn't reached far down enough by the time it had taken three split seconds to enter my forehead, leave traces of shrapnel behind and created an exit wound almost twice the size out the back. My green armor created a roughly 5 centimetre crack and I slumped down on the grass, dead.
I smiled at my CSI-like discoveries as I waited to respawn, still going over them in my head.
Warm, yellow circles drifted and spiralled around me as I rematerialized.
I spun to see him waiting, caught in the outer limits above the map.
“Who the hell are you…” I typed.
“Me? Like I said, I’m just an ordinary schmoe like you. Or… I was… Too bad about that…”
“Look, cut the crap. What the hell are you doing on this server? Do you have the nerve to cheat with the threat of being blacklisted?”
“Michael, Michael, Michael… When will you learn that I don’t want to cheat. Who would play a game for the purpose of winning? I just play for the fun. And all I want from you is my prize. You know, your bet. You remember?” He snickered.
The bet… I had forgotten all about that.
“You want my soul? Dude, you are one sick guy… I didn’t mean to bet my freakin’ soul! I was just being stupid because I was confident I could beat you… You know what? I may be one confident dude, but there have been times when I have lost, and you are one good player, so I will admit there is a chance you may win. But man, souls can’t be given away. I know it’s pretty funny and you may think you’ll be able to control me with two souls, but your soul is yours. And if you think you can take that away from me, you are terribly mistaken, you bottom-dwelling, scum-sucking, algae eater!” I challenged.
“Well. So be it. I hope your death is relatively painless. Oh, and Duke Nukem insults aren’t really counted as original. Have a happy life – and death.”
He launched over the Rock Bridge. My MC flew down, battered against the ground. His fingers twitched, then died.
Back came my Master Chief, his spirit returning to his new body. Quickly I rushed into the Blue base, frantically searching for weapons. There rested one Pistol, perfect for the situation.
As I had predicted, he stood searching on top of the Battle Creek arch scanning for me with his sniper rifle. I fired three rounds into him, causing his character to unzoom. In one swift movement, I rushed out of the base and hid from rock to rock. There he stood, pointing in my direction now with a rocket launcher. I managed to stand and fire a pistol round into his head, hopefully draining his shields. As I had planned, it flickered then died. Another bullet went off, this time into his leg, taking down half a health bar.
Now it seemed he felt it was time to make like a tree. With one melee, he disappeared into thin air. Puzzled, I looked over where he once stood. I rushed up the arch, searching for him. Then, from behind a hard hit came and knocked me into a bloody pool on the ground. The whole time he had remained in his position, just triggering his active camouflage when he swiped at the air with his weapon.
He was a tricky one, indeed. He was very tricky. Tricky literally.
I rushed onto the blue base after respawning and followed the area with my eyes. Suddenly, at the sound of footsteps, I swivelled around to see him rushing up to me. Smiling, I raised my pistol. I heard a bounce. When I least expected it, I saw a grenade on the ground caught between me and him. As it went off, it took away half my health as he flew over me then hit me in the back with the butt of his assault rifle. Once again, he had me.
Soon, the kills went up to thirty. Here, we were tied neck-in-neck, an even match. When I would hit him with a hard melee, he would match me with an unexpected grenade-in-the-foot from underneath the level.
So, I was finally being beaten by a trickster, huh? I tried that kind of thing, once. Too hard. It never helped me win games, so I gave up on it. If you asked me, they just cheat their way into winning.
Pfhorever: So, you think I’m a cheater, huh?
I widened my eyes. I turned away, rubbing them madly. I returned my gaze to the screen. But oddly, just like last time, the words were gone and -- wait. No, they remained where they were. I could swear last time he “read my mind”, the words had disappeared from the screen when I returned my gaze to it. But this time, they remained in place.
Michael M: Who are you? Or, what are you? What are you trying to get from me?
Pfhorever: You just don’t understand, Mr M. I want your bet. If I lose, I will be more than happy to let you continue your life. You can go on and be delusional about how this never happened. That’s what happens if I feed you the blue pill.
However, if you lose, your soul is mine. Then I shall take the blue pill.
I frantically whipped out my bible.
Pfhorever: Uh... That won’t help you. You see, I’m not the devil, just merely one of his slaves. Not quite a demon, either.
My mind stuttered, then froze.
“This isn’t happening, this isn’t happening…”
Pfhorever: If you just finish the game, then I will leave you alone. It is as simple as that. I’m not evil, I just have evil laws controlling me. Please, Michael, I don’t mean to scare you. I don’t mean to scare anyone I play against. It’s just sometimes the way I play controls me. It rules me. I can’t contain it. I wanted it to be easy. That was all I wanted. But he tricked me. He TRICKED me!
Michael M: I don’t know who you are, man, but I will finish the game as we bargained. But you do realize it’s a stupid bet, and no-one can steal what’s rightfully mine, right?
Pfhorever: Agreed. We will play. I will no longer try to scare you, but what I can’t control is beyond my power. So, I wish I didn’t have to take your soul when I win. It’s just life, though. Think on the bright side. Without a soul, you’ll stay on Earth eternally! Sure, you may have no emotions, no essence to your life. But besides that, it’s quite a bonus.
Michael M: Sure. Even if you do win, my soul isn’t yours and that’s that, you witchcrafty freak.
I picked up a needler.
Michael M: Now, let’s get on with it. Let’s kick. Some. Ass.
I slid over to Blue base. There he stood, waiting for me.
“Now, can the games begin?” He taunted.
“Not quite. The ‘King’ isn’t dead yet.”
TO BE CONTINUED...
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