Rule Number Two

Running late for an early yoga class at the college, Nellie bolted down the front steps of her apartment, the sunrise crisp and clear around her. Shining a light onto her bike lock, she fumbled with the combination, her cold hands trembling. “Come on, come on!” she hissed, more hungover than she cared to admit.

“Where’s my phone?” she asked herself, before realizing she was using it as a light. “Oh Jeesuz! Get a grip, girlie.” She smacked her forehead and threw her leg over the bike seat, her hips sinking into the soft cushion. She had to confess, even if she wasn't sure who could be listening, that chasing a boss battle after a midweek dorm party wasn't her brightest idea.

“You’re supposed to be a grown-up, remember?” she scolded herself, repeating a mantra from her recent twenty-first birthday. But the sharp throb of a headache reminded her she hadn’t quite leveled up to adulthood yet.

Gaming nights always started innocently enough—one beer, a quick quest to unwind, and a promise to log off in an hour. Two tops. But then the pixelated high hit harder than any bottle or bong. Before she knew it, cotton candy light filtered through the blinds, and another sunrise arrived way too soon. Coasting through her final year at college, Nellie let an obsession with virtual worlds spiral into a dangerous nocturnal habit, where her best intentions crumbled under the weight of “just one more.”

As she started to pedal, a cool breeze brushed against her face. A whiff of fresh mint from the garden blasted her tastebuds, reminding her of the half a dozen mojitos of the night before. Why had she forgotten booze-binge Rule Number One?

Water is your best friend.

The made-up motto was one of the many pearls of wisdom from Roxy, her roommate and most trusted wingman. How many times had Roxy swapped a cocktail for a tall glass of ice water in between tequila shooters? Too many to count. Nellie smiled at the thought of how her best pal had a knack for being right at the worst possible moments.

With a coffee mug rattling in the wire basket, Nellie navigated the steep driveway, narrowly missing the neighbor's illegally parked RV. “When will you bozos learn to park?” she muttered, steering out of the cul-de-sac, ready to toss a doggie treat to the barking pup at the gate.

She was halfway down the block before she realized the typical early morning chorus had gone mute. It struck her as odd that the sprinklers weren’t hissing, the crickets weren’t chirping, and the streetlights were without the sizzling dance of the fireflies. Not a car on the street. Even the clanging windchimes on the corner porch had gone quiet.

Where is everyone?

Nellie's hazy eyes scanned the area for any signs of life. As far as she could see, every window was as dark as an abandoned mine. The streets lay empty, as though the world had been swallowed by a blanket of silence.

Caught off-guard, Nellie felt the earth shift and roll under her bike. A wave of liquid concrete grabbed her by the ankles, thrusting her forward like a surfer without a board. Nearly leap-frogging over the handlebars, she slammed on the brakes, salvaging her dignity, and her cup of coffee.

“Heyy Nellie!”

A deep rumble taunted her from high above the trees. Skidding to a stop, she roared back, “Who’s there? Hello?” The words bounced back in the empty streets, with a bone-chilling “oh oh oooh.”

Her wails were crushed by a slippery shadow, lunging towards her with spindly spaghetti arms, glowing golden eyes, and jagged fangs crackling like snapping bones. She could feel its icy breath against her skin, sending shivers down her spine.

“You again?” Nellie jumped off the bike, muscle memory kicking in. She punched at the grotesque creature, circling like a bullfighter. The beast twisted and turned, dodging her attacks, with a splintering growl. With the precision of a seasoned warrior, Nellie planted her feet firmly on the ground, cracked her neck, and locked eyes with the monster.

“Not today, creep,” she grunted. Her fingers curled around an archer's bow, the string pulled tight against her cheek. With a swift motion, she drew back, unleashing a flaming arrow.

Bullseye.

The beast let out a blood-curdling roar, swiping a massive claw toward Nellie. She ducked, a rush of air ruffling her ponytail. She rolled to the side, her knees scraping against the pavement.

With a free hand, she checked her pulse. Critical danger. One more hit and she'd be done. Time to end this. Reaching into her satchel, she pulled out the largest of her weaponry, a coveted stun grenade. She yanked the pin free with her teeth and lobbed it straight into the beast's gaping jaws.

“Take that!” she hollered in a voice she hardly recognized.

The monster gasped, choking on the explosive. Steam shot out its nostrils in a white hiss. Howling, the boss stumbled forward, jamming an elbow into Nellie's ribs, knocking her off balance.

In a flash of light, the ghoul dissolved into a puff of smoke, cinders flying into a puddle of black sludge. The stench of scorched hair and smoldering scales stung Nellie's throat. Doubled over in a violent coughing fit, she dropped to one knee, her vision going black for a moment, before a blur of text flickered and faded in front of her.

Speechless, she found herself sitting cross-legged on her living room rug, squinting at familiar surroundings. The battle sounds had vanished, replaced by the hum of her refrigerator. The first thing she saw was her roommate towering over her, peeling the sweaty headset off Nellie's face.

“Aw, Nellers! You been slaying dragons all night again?” Roxy raised an eyebrow with a smirk. “C’mon, get up. We don’t want to be late to class…again!” She reached in her backpack and handed Nellie a bottle of water.

“Looks like you could use this. Like I always say..."

"Yeah, I know." Nellie scoffed. "Water is your best friend."

Nellie grabbed the bottle, took a gulp, and wiped her mouth with her sleeve. Her bloodshot eyes darted to the open laptop flashing Game Over across the screen.

She froze, staring at the plastic goggles dangling from Roxy's hand. That’s when she realized the virtual reality glasses had been on her head all along.

In her sleep-deprived stupor, Nellie had forgotten Rule Number Two: Take the headset off before walking out the door.