DemonRose

Hey! Hey!

Wanted to get this out yesterday but wasn't able to, so an early posting (for me) today. And happened to Notice Wail is #6 in the rankings this morning. Woot!

As Jack (according to his name tag) unhooks the connectors to my bio-suit, I take in my surroundings.

Behind him, I see acoustic tiles interspersed with fluorescent lights. Their glare is flat, harsh, and disturbingly unnatural after a week with only sunlight and flames. The air is stale with a faint whiff of  coffee and bleach. A murmur of voices fills the room. Disembodied and murky, they provoke an anxiety in me.

"There," Jack says, releasing the last cable. He holds out a hand. "Let me help you stand up."

I take his offered hand, and he hauls me up onto my feet. My joints wobble, and I'm not sure I can support my own weight. The suit feels leaden, and I worry it might drag me to the floor.

"Tell me if you need to sit down. Or if you have to throw-up. Or if you feel as though you might pass-out." With a hand on my left arm and the other on my right shoulder, he supports and guides me. He's a big guy, and even if I wasn't woozy and weak, he'd have no problem steering me. "It's normal to be disoriented at first. Especially after an emergency extraction."

There are five other RoboDyne employees helping people out of pods. Everyone seems to be going through a similar process as I am.

I look over my shoulder and up into Jack's face, nearly tripping, but he holds me up. I ask, "Emergency extraction?"

"The AI for Feronia," he says, shaking his head. "Something went wrong with it. I don't know the detail. We just got word from corporate to get everyone out. What was it like in there?"

"Weird. Very weird." I notice my speech is a little slurred.

We follow another player and his polo-shirted guide until they split off and go into the men's locker room. 

When we keep going, I ask, "Shouldn't we...?" But then, we reach the women's locker room, and a dark haired girl with large glasses steps out and takes hold of my arms. 

"I'll handle her from here," she says to Jack. Then, to me, "I'm Donna. How are you feeling?"

She talks to me as though I have brain damage. I must be sagging from the weight of the suit because she stands half a head taller than me. I straighten up, but it doesn't change anything.

Jack releases me, saying, "I'll go get the next next one."

"I'm okay," I say, sounding drunk. And honestly, feeling absolutely hammered. My mind is slow. My coordination is off. I feel as though I might vomit at any second. But there's also hint of euphoria underneath it all.

"Come with me. Come on. That's it. This way." She keeps up an encouraging chatter as she shepherds me to my room.

Although the area is called a locker room, it doesn't resemble anything from a gym. Instead, it's a carpet hallway with rows of partial doors on either side. It's a bit like the changing room part of a clothing store only bigger. The doors are louvered wood and have a foot and half gap at the bottom. Inside, there's a small but comfortable vinyl bench that's large enough to stretch out on and hooks and shelves for your clothes. There's also the rack for the bio-suit, which helps you get it on and off without tangling the tubes and wires. At the end of the hall after all the private rooms, there are showers and bathrooms.

Donna stops at a door number #11. I can't remember if this was the one I was in earlier or not. 

She asks, "Do you have your key?" When I clumsily start patting the bio-suit in the area were my pockets normally are, she says, "That's okay. I can use my master. Do you need help getting your suit off, sweetie?" But before I can answer, someone is at the main door calling out, "Don? Got another for you. Don? A little help here!"

She pats my arm and runs off saying, "If you need anything just holler."

I step in and close the door behind me. Next to the suit's rack there's a panel with two buttons: "Equip" in green and "Extract" in orange. I press the orange one and a voice walks me through the process, correcting me when I make a mistake and occasionally using robotic arms to assist. After many minutes, I'm free from it, and it rests on the wall like a discarded alien husk. The machine chimes and says cheerfully, "Extraction complete! Please proceed to the showers."

My sweat covered skin bristles in the sudden coolness of the air. I shiver and my nipples grow hard. There's a white cotton robe on a hook by the door. I grab it and put it on. The terry-towel is stiff and crusty from age and frequent washings. 

I lean against the wall, trying to think. A week. I was in Feronia for a week. How long is that?

A day equals a month. And I went in around one—maybe one-thirty. It must be... Sevenish. Sevenish on Saturday night.

I can barely grasp that it's still the same day I went in.

Before going to the showers, I glance in the mirror. The reflection makes me take a step back and slam a shoulder against the wall.

It's all wrong! It's not me!

I start screaming for Donna. When she finally comes, I'm sitting on the floor with my knees pressed against my chest. My brain feels like it's pulling in three different directions.

"What is it?"

I point at the person in the mirror. I can only see the top of her head from my vantage. Her brown yes stare at me wide and fearful just above the bottom of the frame. "That isn't me. It isn't... I... What's happened to me!"

"Oh, sweetie." She says it kindly, but there's a hint of exasperation in her voice. "It's a perfectly normal reaction. After being in the game world for a long period, your sense of self gets distorted. You start thinking of yourself as your character. Things will snap back for you real soon. Go take you're shower. You'll feel better. Can I call anyone to come pick you up?" As she's talking, she pulls me back to my feet and get's me moving in the direction of the facilities.

I try to think: Is there someone to pick me up? How did I get to the mall? I took a auto-ride, didn't I? Did I?

"No. I'll be alright," I say, not feeling too confident about it.

I hustle down the hall and slip out of the robe before getting into one of the private shower stalls. I'm confronted again with this strange body of mine.

The light caramel skin is the most in-my-face aspect. It seemed so strange. Was it because I played a a Banshee with unnaturally white skin. Could it really make me forget the real me?

I hold out my hand and look at my delicate fingers, the nails painted turquoise with a little glitter mixed in. When had I gotten that done?

 The water feels good, and I'm happy to wash the grime off. The sweat that collected in the bio-suit has dried into a salty crust. I have to admit, my breasts are disappointingly small considering what I'd gotten used to in Feronia. There As (maybe small Bs at most) with pert dark brown nipples. I can't help but give them some attention, rubbing them so that a hot burning builds in my loins. Unfortunately, the sensation also makes me realize how badly I need to pee.

I hurry to finish up and notice my legs are on the short, stubby side, and that if my breasts are on the small side, then my butt more than makes up for it. Each cheek is larger than my hands can grasp. This causes a mix of emotions to take root in me. I'm a little chuffed at having booty. But I also wonder if I should be dieting more. And having a big round ass is just so terribly weird.

After a quick towel off, I rush over to a bathroom stall. Sitting there releasing my bladder, it feels like I've never done it before. Not just because I have a gallon to empty out of me, but everything about it is off. In the game world, there were no need for bathroom breaks and whatever I did in the bio-suit I wasn't conscious of, but how can a week in the game make me forget how it feels to pee.

Footsteps on the tiles snap me out of my thoughts. 

"Ah, fuck!" A woman says as though to herself, although she seems to know I'm there because when she speaks again it's to me. "Is your head all screwed up too? I'm going to sue those bastards."

"Yeah," I say through the door. "It's like I've forgotten who I am."

"Exactly! You know they're not supposed to pull you out like that. I've done Immersive Reality five times, and it's usually a slow, gentle process. Not a sudden yank."

I wipe and flush, put the robe back on and step out. "I guess they had to do it. With that sex-crazed AI." I'm a little startled. She's standing in front of one of the showers completely naked. She's a little overweight but she looks good. All soft smooth skin. Although, she wears a coat of grime with clear spots where the bio-suit's monitors and connections had attached. Still, my body begins to respond to the sight with warmth and excitement.

"Sex-crazed AI? What the hell game were you playing, girl?" She shakes her head and enters the shower. 

"You know, Katie, the AI? Making everything revolve around sex acts and being naked?"

"What? How did she do that?" she calls out over the sound of running water.

Where to begin? "Venom that causes a hornyness diseases. Bee-girl monster licking honey off you. Oral sex as a way of sealing deals."

"What?!? Shit! I wish the game had been that interesting."

"What do you mean?"

"After the crash, Feronia became boring as fuck. It was like Candy Land or some shit. Pink puffy clouds and rainbows everywhere. No monsters. Nothing to do except wander around in lands that looked like a unicorn puked it up."

Huh? "Are you sure you were in Feronia?"

"Absolutely sure, girlfriend. I don't know where the fuck you were."