Chapter 1 - Too Much Aggro

Gamer Vocabulary:

Aggro: it's like a short for aggression; it's when the bad guys turn their attention to a specific character.

Guildies: short of guild members, a guild is a band of players that play together on a long term basis.

Grinding: leveling by fighting monsters and doing quests/missions Raid: a group of usually twelve or more people to complete quests/missions.

Port: transported somewhere…usually by a magic spell Noob/newb: a new player. Can be used as an insult stating that the “noob” is someone plays very badly.

Res: resurrect, usually as in spells Slot up: to equip or save space for something Alignment: this is a system that describes the moral ethics of a character, basically if they are good or bad, law abiding or a rebel.

It was Friday evening. Most twenty-somethings prepared for a night of clubbing, parties, dates, and other typical activities. Maggie Kent prepared for something else entirely. As the twenty year old ran on the treadmill her mind ran through all the strategies needed to make the night a success. There was no room for defeat. Maggie only hoped everyone would be there. The mission was far too important for PUG.

“Knock, knock,” a cheery voice rang through the house, snapping Maggie out of her planning. She knew that voice all too well and bit back a sigh of aggravation. “Why do you say knock, knock,” Maggie called out to her, shutting off the treadmill and stepping down off of it. “When you neither knock nor wait for me to answer the door, Hannah?” Taking the towel, hanging over one of the grip bars, she dabbed at the beading sweat on her face and neck.

“I’m letting you know I’m here, Silly,” she said with a ‘well duh’ expression on her face. “Besides knocking is bad for my nails.” A teasing Cheshire grin spread over the woman’s face.

Maggie felt a sudden pang of envy of Hannah’s classic blonde beauty looks. Then rolled her eyes both at herself and at Hannah’s worry for her manicure.

Before she could say anything in reply, her friend just kept on talking. “So any plans for tonight Maggie?”

“Yep and you’re taking away time way from my preparation,” Maggie replied then silently counted. Three...two...one...

Hannah scrunched up her face into an expression of disgust. “That isn't a plan Maggie! That is for losers and kids.”

Right on time, Maggie thought with a sigh, trying to ignore the pang of hurt Hannah’s words sent through her. It didn’t matter if the blonde had said it a hundred times before. It still hurt and made her feel small. “No, it's not. Almost all my guildies are over the age of seventeen,” she insisted.

“I will never understand you, Maggie,” Hannah demanded. She started walking over to the mirror Maggie had on the wall. She looked over herself, touching up her already perfect hair and makeup. “You have great potential, yet you hole yourself up here.”

Maggie felt herself flush as her heart started to hammer in her chest.

“You dress like a bum and spend your time playing silly games,” Hannah complained.

Her throat tightened as she attempted to swallow. Embarrassment and shame made her cringe. It didn’t matter how many times Maggie explained to her, Hannah just didn’t get it.

“You're not even listening to me are you?” Hannah demanded.

Actually it was just the opposite, but Maggie refused to waste her breath explaining yet again, her social phobia to her friend.

“Because you've said it so much Hannah I have it memorized,” Maggie told her with a bravado she didn’t even begin to feel.

“Then why are you not doing anything?” Hannah huffed in a complaint. “Why don't you just once try to have real fun for once? Come with me to the club with Chase and me.”

The mention of Hannah's new boyfriend made Maggie's blood run cold. Her neighbor always had a thing for the bad boys, but Chase was in a whole other field of bad boy. There was something about him that terrified Maggie beyond belief. Ever since their first meeting she outright refused to allow him into her house. “There is no way I am going anywhere with that guy.”

“You are so dull Maggie,” Hannah said, but the teasing pout kept Maggie from feeling more than a twinge of embarrassment. Her expression turned sly as she turned to Maggie, opening her arms wide. “How about a friendly hug between friends and we'll call it even?”

Panic made Maggie gasp and take several steps back away from her. “Hannah,” she complained with a frown. “Remember the bubble. Do not penetrate the bubble!” Maggie waved her arms around her in a demonstration.

“Really Maggie, you're going to have to deal with your phobias sooner or later. You can't live your whole life here in this house. Too afraid to talk to someone or let them touch you. That's no life,” Hannah said. True worry touching her beautiful face, making her look almost angelic to Maggie.

Why? Maggie wondered. Why couldn’t she just be left alone? She was happy as long as everyone just left her alone. “Not today,” Maggie told her.

Now it was Hannah who sighed. “One day, Maggie. One day I'm going to pop that bubble of yours. That I promise you.”

Maggie shook her head so hard, her coppery ponytail hit her in the face. It would be a cold day in hell before that happened.

Hannah laughed at her, her blue eyes twinkling with a promise of trouble. “You'll see Maggie. Well, I got to go. Try to do something fun tonight please,” she said then left the house as quickly as she came.

Maggie let out a sigh, feeling herself fully relax now that she was alone. Going into the kitchen, she looked at the time on the oven display and cried out, “Crap on toast!” If she didn’t hurry she was going to be late. Grabbing two Red Bulls, some chocolate, and a little tub of cut fruits and veggies, Maggie dashed into the game room.

On the walls were posters of several different games and shelves filled with action figures, bobble heads, and other game paraphilia. Against the wall in front of her stood the massive, solid oak computer desk. The computer itself was a sleek black and green machine with neon green lighting shining from the sides. The flat screen, keyboard, and mouse all had the same lighting and design. All in all, it looked like something straight out of Star Trek. Giddy excitement filled her as she laid everything out on the desk and turned on her computer.

“Damn there you are Styrene,” Bravura said as soon as she logged into the game.

“There is my baby with the magic touch,” TooKool jumped in.

Maggie smiled shaking her head. “Sorry guys, got a little delayed by real life, but I am good to go now. Where are we going?”

“The Caves of Miras Duradam,” Bravura replied. “Hurry up and slot up for shadow and poison defense.”

“Let's hurry up. I need to get the Helm of Lumestre tonight,” LadyLove demanded.

Maggie rolled her eyes. “Lovely as always L.L.”

“I think you should change your name to LadyBitch,” TooKool said snarkily.

“Oh so clever! You such a kid T.K.”

“Should I go pro for fire magic or ice magic?” MageDude asked.

Maggie groaned. “Neither Mage,” She told him with impatience. “This is shadow remember. Go pro for light then second as fire. You want to use the Light of Lumestria as your primary attack spell and your fire spells as secondary.” She had explained this like twenty times already.

“Mage you're such a noob,” TooKool shot taking the words right from Maggie's mouth.

“I am not! I just have a life unlike you T.K.”

“Okay, enough! We going to raid or do you have to get your diapers change?” Bravura demanded cutting off another sarcastic reply from TooKool.

Everyone petulantly mumbled, “Raid.”

Five hours later Maggie logged off the game and yawned. The raid was a success despite MageDude’s total noobish ways. God, they had to get a better mage. She got up from her chair and stretched then smiled with victory. Finally, she got the last piece of her epic armor. This set had some of the best stats in the game and it was hell to get the complete set.

Maggie turned her computer off and did a little victory dance as she cleaned up the desk of food wrappers, cans, and empty containers. “I got my armor! I got my armor,” she chanted as she danced her way to the kitchen to throw away the trash and leave the dishes in the sink.

Just as she started to head to her bedroom, her phone began to ring. After a startled yelp, she glared at the thing from where it sat, gathering dust in the living room. No one ever called her. Especially at one o'clock in the morning. Picking up the receiver she stared at the blue, led display. “Hannah,” she muttered, and answered the phone. “You better have a good reason for calling at this hour.”

She pulled the phone away from her ear surprised when the call ended and her friend hadn’t said a word. Maggie stared at it, wondering whether she should call her back or not. She jumped with another surprised shriek when a loud crash came from the neighboring house. Hannah’s house. Moving the curtain and peering out across the thin strip of lawn sectioned off by a chain link fence, Maggie looked for any signs of what was going on over at her friends.

When she saw nothing, Maggie let the dainty curtain fall back in place. Hannah was probably drunk, or having a Fifty Shades moment, or perhaps both, she thought with irritation and figured her friend had butt dialed her. Maggie turned to head back towards the bedroom when she swore she heard a brief snatch of shouting followed by a loud, quick popping noise and a crash. Freezing on the spot, Maggie stood, barely daring to breathe.

The world fell silent, only the sound of her appliances and stampeding heart could be heard. Maggie bit her lip as she debated what she wanted to do. She could call the cops, but if it was nothing, she’d look like an idiot. Maggie might even get in trouble for calling them for nothing. That sent her insides twisting in a nauseating twist. She could always do nothing. Hannah wasn’t her responsibility, Maggie reasoned, however that was followed by guilt.

Hannah was overbearing, annoyingly cheery, and somewhat of a bully, but she was also the only friend Maggie had in the world. What kind of person would she be if she didn’t go at least check to see if Hannah was alright? She was probably drunk and with what Maggie had heard it was very possible she was hurt too. Maggie stood in place two sides warring inside her. “Damn you, lawful good alignment,” she swore as left her house and into the warm summer evening.

With her hands fisted at her sides, Maggie walked over to Hannah’s determined that as soon as she was sober enough, she was going to give her friend an earful. Maggie was imagining the lecture she was going to give Hannah when the sight of the front door slightly ajar made her and her imaginary lecture halt to a complete stop. “Hannah,” Maggie called and only the soft night sounds of crickets answered.

“Oh hell no, I’ve seen too many movies,” Maggie said, turning towards her house, but guilt stopped her once again. “Damn it,” she swore through gritted teeth, hoping this all wasn’t Hannah getting freaky with her boyfriend. With her index finger, Maggie slowly pushed the front door back. She sucked in a breath as her heart gave a painful thud then stopped. Hannah laid on the floor, half on her side and half on her back.

The honey blonde hair was covering her face so Maggie couldn’t see if she was conscious or not. Maggie sucked in another breath as her heart thudded back to life. Unable to look away from her friend, she walked over to her cautiously. “Hannah,” Maggie called again and again, got no answer. She kneeled by her friend, brushing the hair out of her face. Another steely stab of shock tore through her as she saw the growing red stain on Hannah’s stomach.

“Oh God,” she breathed, placing her hands over wound and pressing against it. That’s what they always did in the movies. Hannah groaned as her eyes opened, looking up at Maggie. The fear in them was almost palpable. She placed her hands over Maggie’s now bloody ones as she tried to say something. “Don't speak. I'll call 911 okay,” Maggie told her, surprised at how calm her voice sounded.

“I wouldn't do that if I were you, Little Mouse,” a man said. The voice all too familiar.

There was only one person that called her Mouse. Maggie looked up to see Chase, Hannah's boyfriend, in the kitchen doorway. Only a second later her eyes narrowed on the gun he held in his right. She make a terrified squeak and her eyes widened. He shot her. He shot Hannah!

“You chose the wrong time to come out of your hole, Little Mouse,” he told her as he lifted the gun.

Time seemed to slow down and, rooted to the spot, she watched him pull the trigger. As the loud crack thundered, time sped up. Maggie screamed as something warm splattered over her. There was no pain. He didn’t shoot her? She cautiously opened her eyes and screamed again, realizing he had shot Hannah again, and this time killed her. No. This was a nightmare. This couldn’t be happening. Not to her. Not to Hannah. Just no!

“Damn nosy bitch,” Chase swore.

Maggie looked up at him. Her ears rang, her heart thudded loudly, and a weird numbness washed over her.

“Should have stayed out of my business,” Chase spat with anger then sighed as if this was all boring him. “Like I said you picked a wrong day to come out of your hole.” He lifted the gun and aimed it at Maggie.

She stared down the dark barrel of the weapon. The numbness still holding onto her. He was going to kill her like he did Hannah. Maggie wasn't ready to die. She had just gotten all the epic armor and the level cap was going to rise up ten levels in two months! Primal instinct slammed into her. She grabbed the vase on the end table next to her and threw it at Chase.

A gunshot rang out, but again no pain. Maggie got up and ran out of the house. She dashed around the house, hearing Chase yell at her. Maggie jumped the wooden fence of her other neighbor and into his yard, silently thanking God, the one extracurricular activity she’d done in high school was field and track. Another gunshot ripped through the calm night and part of the wooden fence where she had just been, shattered into a million splintered pieces.

Maggie squeaked in fear running across the yard to jump the fence again into yet another yard. She kept running, jumping fences, and avoiding chained dogs with no destination in mind. Her instinct just pushed her to keep running. Out of breath, her chest painfully constricted as she tried to gulp down enough air, Maggie slowed to a stop. Her hands resting on her knees. She hand no idea where she was, it she was surrounded by strip malls and people giving her the stink eye.

“Ma'am, are you alright?” someone asked her.

Maggie turned to see two patrol officers looking at her with concern. She shook her head and tried to tell them what had happened, but only a mass of stuttered syllables left her mouth.

“Calm down Miss. Just take deep breaths,” The older one suggested. He tried to place a comforting hand on her shoulder, but Maggie jumped back with a shriek. “Alright, alright, take it easy,” he said, holding up his hands. “Miss, are you hurt?”

Maggie shook her head no. She didn't think so at least. Maggie didn't feel like she'd been shot. She took a deep breath trying to calm herself, but a crowd had started to gather. Looking around at them, surrounding her, Maggie began to panic. They thought she was crazy or psychotic. Embarrassment tainted her panic. God, one of them could be Chase. He could shoot her in a crowd and no one would ever know he did it.

Maggie’s heartbeat kicked up into high gear, and her breathing quickened to short pants. The older officer was still talking to her, but she couldn't seem to hear anything. Her ears buzzed, and she felt faint. Was the crowd getting closer? Suddenly her world tilted and everything went black.