Wrote this for you guys. You slowly open your eyes, collecting yourself. You’re in a daze, unsure of where you are. Looking down to your side, you realize you’re carrying a briefcase. Upon opening it you find that you were ordered to start a new life by the government. Thinking as hard as you can, you can’t remember anything before this point. Your name, your appearance, your family, nothing. Glancing into the window, you can’t even make out your face in the reflection. Taking a look at your surroundings, you come to the realization that you’re on a train with a woman coming toward you. She sits across from you and in a tender tone asks you “Where you headed?”. You can push out, “I’m not sure”. You sit for nearly 5 minutes has she patiently asks you things about where you’d honestly like to be going. You describe to her just where, even drawing a crude map of it. The train bells dings, and the woman stands up. “This is your stop.” She says. Puzzled, you get up and walk out. Upon exiting the train, you see yourself clearly in a puddle at your feet. You walk slowly, taking in your surroundings. The train is still at a halt, and you look inside. The woman is nowhere to be seen. You’re greeted instantly by a few citizens of the town you’ve arrived in, but something is very familiar. It’s unsettling. Guiding your way, a kindly woman guides you around the town as you briefly mention you like the appearance of a home. She informs you that you make have it, if you like. You accept and a man promptly shows up to discuss a payment plan. “… and then only after your mortgage is paid off are you allowed a building permit.” He says calmly. Nodding your head, he walks away. It’s getting late. You should sleep. You awake in the middle of the night abruptly, unknowing of what woke you. You decide to go for a walk, almost instinctively. You see two of the townsfolk speaking with one another by the creek, so you make your way over to them. You introduce yourself to them. Both of them seem very set on what they speak to you about. One speaking very fondly of swimming, and the other raving about various types of insects. Your mind jolts and you stumble backward. You’re very taken aback by this, as you have no idea what just happened. It was as if an icepick just drove into your skull from an unknown origin. Rubbing your head gently, you bid farewell and go back home to rest. Waking in the morning bright and early, you go and walk along the creek, just as you did last night. It’s amazing how the scenery changes during the day. Everything looks new and fresh. Your foot slides through a small bundle of flowers, and you step to the side, feeling slightly at fault for a few petals laying beside it. Looking into the clouded creek, you notice a fish. Recalling a shop that had fishing supplies in which you saw during your tour, you walk there to purchase a fishing rod. Arriving and asking for the rod, you realize you’ve got no money. Understanding that you’re new, the fishing pole is given to you. Giving a slight wave of your hand, you say goodbye and head back. As you cast your rod into the creek, you quickly feel your line being tugged. You pull hard on your rod and land a salmon. The motions become rhythmic as the small bag you brought with you starts filling with various types of fish. Thinking that someone could use these more than yourself, you bring them to the market, in which a kindly man offers to pay you for them. The feeling of accomplishment overwhelms you. Several days pass as you’ve finally gotten into the groove of things around here. You fish every day making a decent profit with the market man. You’ve gotten acquainted with all the townsfolk, but you notice the two people you met your first night still unsettle you. You try dearly to shake the feeling of this as you speak to them. You collect yourself and then speak to them. Almost amounting to a certain level of bravery. You’ve been here for nearly 6 months now, and lately you’ve noticed something very… unrealistic. Almost in everything. The way that you walk, the way the citizens speak with you, even the whole concept of this. Consumed by your thoughts, you accidentally walk into a tree and fall over. Rubbing your head you come to a frightening realization. For a split second you remembered something. Something from… before. For a mere moment you saw yourself underwater, reaching for the surface, your vision becoming blurry. You snap out of your vision quickly and look around. You’re sweating, and you sprint back to your home, tripping over a crack in the ground. Using your hands you dig out the hole and pull a small humanoid figure out, in which is making repeated noises and twitching violently. Almost fascinated, you decide to take it home and place it in your living room. The sounds it makes are almost entrancing. You doze off slightly in your chair, but the noise starts forming something. You stir awake and walk closer to it. *Gick-ot* *Gick-ot* *Gick-ot*. It still makes the same noises. Leaning closer you listen carefully. A cold sweat breaks and you become light headed as you fall to the floor. “Get out. Get out. Get out.” It says. Over. And Over. And over. Bursting through your door to outside, the townsfolk are coming toward you, shouting your name, eager to speak with you. You see the swimming fanatic, and you have a violent flashback to your dream of drowning. These citizens. They walk around smiling. “Get away from me!” you yell, sprinting for the train station. You hide yourself under a bench as you hear small murmurs from outside saying “They know.” What the does this mean. Your body is shaking, nearly convulsing due to fear. You remember everything. You were pulled from a ships wreckage before death. You were part of a government operation in which you were gathering intelligence of a classified origin. You knew the worlds secrets. Every last one. Upon being dragged from the wreckage, and them discovering you knew more than you should, you were executed. You’re in this seemingly perfect town with seemingly perfect citizens. You are an embodiment of fear, surrounded by what haunts you most from your time on the living plane intermixed with things that give you a false sense of hope. A false sense of returning to a normal life. Hope of living… at all again. Recalling back, you remember your face suddenly becoming apparent. After all, the face of fear is what you make it. All you can do is convince yourself that they won’t make you one of the talking figures you put in your home. Just another one that found out why they’re there. The ones who know and warn the newcomers. You cower under the bench. Waiting. Welcome to Purgatory. Welcome to Animal Crossing.
Posted on: Mon, 17 Jun 2013 17:02:17 +0000
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