NetherWorld by Daniel Pagan (each kindness read aloud .TXT) 📕

than one second, Nick’s avatar stood at the Subway gates. Wearing shiny silver armor, he was ready for a night of shredding mutant creatures and crawling through the dank tunnels of the underworld.
Subway Heroes was a very popular video game among teens. The seemingly endless arrangements of tunnels kept adventurers busy for weeks and months. Nick favored the game because it did not require joining a clan to achieve success. Most modern games required some sort of cooperation between players. Nick preferred to work alone. Any additional Karbon player would slow him down.

“Enter the tunnels at your peril, Silver Knight!” warned a resonant undead voice. Since no one could kill the Demon, they had to indulge his taste for riddles. The Demon had a very tough series of riddles for a player wishing to gain passage beyond the door. The riddle changed every time someone approached the door. This prevented Players from preparing for the Riddle, making it nearly impossible to solve. Thus far, no one had answered it correctly.
Nick’s avatar, a big beefy knight, wielded a glowing blue sword, lighting his way down the dark subway tunnels. Neon green liquid drip dropped from the arched brick ceiling. Yellow eyes peeked out from the distance, another set of mutants waiting to attack. He must pass these rabid tunnel dwellers to get to the Door of Dementia.
As Nick approached the Door, large mutant wolves stood poised to attack from narrow alley passageways. Their green tinted fur stood on end, making them appear even larger. Snarling mouths revealed sharp canines glistening with the blood of past avatars. One bite from these diseased beasts and his Silver Knight would suffer a gruesome end.
Leaping out in front of our hero, they began stalking in his direction. Yellow eyes glowed in the dim subway light, casting a menacing pose.
Nick quickly pulled his sword to attack position. Blue tinted metal swiped at the beasts. His knight barely dodged the snapping jaws on one of the wolves.
The animals circled back to reorganize, growling instructions to one another in some beastly language. After circling the Silver Knight several times, they leapt toward him from opposite directions. About to be overwhelmed by the new attack, Nick had to think fast. He keyed in a full circle spin that whips his sword around in rapid rotation. Each creature launched at the same time. Flying in mid air, jaws open, they fell towards his avatar. Nick’s knight spun into a blur of silver and blue. His shiny blue sword severed their heads before they landed. Yellow eyes rolled on the subway floor as the heads tumbled away. Green viscous gel sprouted from their twitching bodies, splattering Nick’s Silver Knight. Seconds later, their headless corpses fell limp on the tunnel floor. It appeared the beasts were no match for our hero.
Next was the Door of Dementia. No one had ever been able to pass through this door, including Nick. The bloodthirsty Demon guarded the passageway day and night. Tall, scaly and red, this horned humanoid beast smiled a wicked grin at the next victim. Players from all over Karbonon have blogged about proposed methods to take down the Demon. Countless attempts have all ended with the same result…avatar assassination.
In order to pass this Door, the avatar must answer The Riddle. Far too many players have given up after trying again and again. Nick’s most recent attempts had produced the same deadly outcome. Such was the case last night.
“Wrong. Now prepare for your destruction”, the Demon said to Nick’s helpless character in a deep, haunting baritone. Within seconds a trap door opened in the floor. A river of yellow and red lava percolated below. Upon providing the incorrect answer, his doomed avatar dropped, flailing until it reached the searing lava below. Ear piercing screams followed until the bubbling lava swallowed the character. Skeletal remnants surfaced and flowed along the lava current. Nick hoped to avoid such a brutal end this time around.

After watching the Demon melt another hapless gamer’s avatar, Nick prepared for his turn at the monster. “Next!” announced the sated Demon. Dripping spittle out of each corner of his mouth, his tongue licked jagged discolored teeth. You could almost smell the stink of the rotted scaly creature. Frustrated, Nick continued to try a myriad of solutions to overcome this vexing challenge. To any normal gamer, the situation would appear hopeless.
Nick had a plan though. After failing so many times, he decided there was another way to get past this door. With a modicum of effort, he was able to access the computer code that runs the Riddle part of the game. Last night, he hacked into the game and inserted some new code. This would work only once. After that, the game designers would catch on and remove the instructions Nick programmed. If Nick waited too long, the periodic updates to the program would eliminate the code as well. Thus, it had to be tonight. There was no time to waste.
Nick’s avatar sheathed his bloody sword and marched toward the door. This has got to work, he thought. His palms began to sweat as he approached the Demon. His knee was bouncing up and down to a rapid internal beat. His jaw stiffened as he grinded his teeth in apprehension. All of his research, effort and programming were about to be tested. If he succeeded, he would become an online hero. Gamers would blog about the Legend who took down the Demon.
“Silver Knight, answer the Riddle and enter the Door of Dementia”, Boomed the Demon in a deep voice that echoed through the speakers. “Answer incorrectly and certain death awaits you,” he warned. Cracked nicotine stained teeth filled his wicked wide smile as he salivated. “What say you?” he drooled.
“Ask your question, Demon,” responded Nick. His avatar stood proud at the doorway. His shining silver armor glistened under the green subway goo droppings.
“The Night Eater lacks the tools that wax the moon. It paints the sky with vacant stares. The dawn kills the squealing owl with the secret words. Name these words or face your destiny in the Pit”, demanded the Demon. An image of the pit popped up beside his scary frowning face.
“Why bow to the mother bongo?” said his avatar. Nobody would come up with that gibberish, he thought.
A few very long seconds of silence ensued. Would it really work, he wondered. After so many failed attempts, doubt crept in. Nick drew a deep breath and exhaled his worries.
The Demon’s toothy smile vanished. A terrifying screech ensued. Moments later the scaly Demon began to melt. His feet turned into a pool of red soup. His outstretched red arms flailed for something to grasp, as the rest of his body sank into the crimson liquid. Jagged yellow teeth floated in this demonic mess. Steamy smoke rose from the satanic bisque. The formerly invincible Demon ceased to exist.
A loud rumbling noise shook through his speakers and rattled the room. The stone door that once blocked the entrance into the realm of Dementia slowly opened. Darkness peaked from behind the stone. Completely black, he would need to use his torch to traverse the special tunnel. SubMan awaited on the other side. He would be the first ever to reach the pinnacle of Subway Hero.
“Yes!” exclaimed Nick, pounding his fist with excitement. His programming worked. “Take that you stupid beast”, he chided the already deceased Demon.
Before he could move his avatar into the tunnel, something strange began to happen. His character was frozen. What a terrible time for a crash! This can’t be happening, he thought.
“No! No! No! Don’t die on me now!” Sweat began beading on his forehead. All that work, just to be erased by a system failure.
A small wisp of smoke drifted in from beyond the door. This blackness began to twirl round and round. It looked like a miniature black hole, twisting faster and faster. Windy sounds swooshed through his speakers. Maybe, this was all part of entering Dementia.
“Whew!” said a relieved Nick.
He tapped his foot with excitement. Whenever he was nervous or excited; Nick would tap his left foot. Whatever is behind that door must be fantastic. All his effort was about to pay off. This would give him bragging rights for weeks among his techno friends. What happened next was completely unexpected.
As the dark hurricane from beyond the door grew more powerful, his monitor began to change. The black storm swelled, growing well beyond the doorway passage. A swirling dark cloud now covered his entire screen. He could feel wind swishing around him. Computer games have become so realistic. With the exception of smell, many games have found inventive ways to stimulate the remaining complement of senses.
“Wicked!” Nick exclaimed. Was he imagining things, or was there really a wind pulling him toward his monitor? Sure felt like wind. The storm began pulling his hair towards the monitor. Long tangles of unkempt dirty hair danced toward the screen. This was just a bit too real for Nick. A hint of panic began to set in. Never had a game produced such a physical effect. This was either some novel software or he was having a whopper of a hallucination. Things were getting out of control.
The wind storm battered the cleaning robots in the room. First they simply stopped working. As the storm spread they rebooted and began moving in random directions. Strange high pitched sounds squeaked from their speakers. The machines actually sounded scared, if that was possible. Their movement became more frantic and unpredictable. Eventually they crashed into each other, scattering purple spider legs across his already littered carpet. The burning smell of grinding engines filled the room, as the cake pan robots sped around in circles.
“Ok. This is beginning to really freak me out.” Nick declared. Items around the room were shifting and sliding in response to the cyber windstorm invading his room. Teen bric-a-brac fell from shelves and bureaus.
“Mom!” he yelled. The swirling winds kidnapped his vocals, trapping them in his room. Outside, there was no discernable sound or motion that would indicate a problem. The epicenter of this tempest was his monitor.
He tried to get up from his chair to escape the stormy suction. By that time the black hole was so powerful, it pinned him to the chair. Even worse, his head was now touching the computer screen. Instead of feeling a hard surface, the screen felt like a cold viscous gel. This has got to be a dream, he thought. Still, just in case, he had better alert PAL to shut the whole thing down.
“PAL, please shut the program down,” demanded Nick.
“Not Possible Master Nick, you are The Chosen One,” responded PAL with her usual sultry sound. Her once curvy female figure was supplanted by a brilliant platinum sphere. Thousands of tiny tendrils