Daily Reaction: A Friday the 13th Spectacular
It’s Friday the 13th, 2013, and that means it’s the greatest Friday ever, and it’s time for the greatest Daily Reaction ever. First off, Seb turns the world on its head with a special story that may be about a video game, or possibly about dealing with death, and then Dan follows up with a sucker punch picture of the scariest game ever.
Seb: “Don’t be afraid” he said, holding my head to his chest. He was scared – he was trying to hide it, but I could tell – his body was drenched in sweat, his breath raspy, as it was every time they came.
I looked up, trembling with fear, and caught his wild eyes. Composing himself, dad’s face smoothed, but failed to lose its gaunt shadowing. “It’ll be ok, just do as you’ve been trained”.
The sky roared. Fine dust fell as the walls reverberated with the sound, and dad’s fingers dug into my head as he chanted under his breath: “Don’t think, don’t dream, don’t imagine. The world is round, 3D, physical. There is nothing more… don’t think”.
I could feel them inside my head, invisible feelers snaking their way along the synapses. Creation was mine, I could play with reality. I was like God.
‘Let there be light,’ I thought, on a whim.
I screamed, clawing at my eyes, desperate to escape the blinding brightness that shone from the heavens. And then it was gone. Darkness wrapped around me like a blanket, the noise stopped, the shaking stopped, and I was just left with my father, panting and sobbing.
“They almost had me” I gasped, sickened at the thought of how close it had been to taking over.
Dad eased his grip on me, but the fear didn’t leave his face. “We have to move, right now. People will have seen them descend, they will have seen them try to connect. We can’t let anyone find you…” His voice trailed off as we became aware of another presence.
Standing in the doorway was a wild-eyed man, his clothes ragged, rotted and stained beyond identification. His gun was pointed at me, swaying uneasily in his clammy grasp. He cleared his throat: “I knew there was one of you in the area! The sacks have been particularly active lately, we’ve lost good men, supplies, whole areas.”
Dad stood slowly, edging in front of the pistol. “She’s just a kid, please don’t do anything. Please, she’s all I have, she doesn’t deserve something like this”. Infuriated, the man moved forward, thrusting the gun towards dad’s face – “that’s the whole problem, you idiot!” he screamed, gesticulating at me, “this daughter of yours may very well be the last child on the south coast, and she’s drawing in those creatures to us like a light to moths. At last count, we had twenty two sacks in the state alone.
I held my father’s leg tightly, shielding myself behind his broad body. He mounted my defense: “We’re moving away, we’re going where no one can follow. They won’t find us, there’s no risk. You’re insane, we can’t just kill all the children.”
“You just don’t get it, do you?” shouted the man, flecks of spittle visible at the edges of his mouth. “That’s exactly what we have to do. They once existed in a dreamworld, but now they’re here, and they’re feeding off of the children – they live off of their imagination, using it to build whole worlds. The only way to stop them is to starve them out, cut off the food supply and wait until they’re all dead. We can only hope some of us are still left by then to start the process of rebuilding.” He stroked a pendant around his neck, his eyes misty, “it is the only way”.
I could feel Dad’s muscles tense, his body clench and then move with a fluid motion, fast and powerful. I could see the man’s eyes roll back into his head, his body begin to go limp as the punch connected. I could see the gun. I could see the finger move. I can still hear the gun go off.
Blood was everywhere, seeping out of a deep hole in my father’s gut. He was choking, spluttering showers of bile, spit and yet more blood. He was trying to speak, so I moved closer: “my love… things have changed, I’m sorry. We’re just little ants in a planet now dominated by bigger beings, we’re helpless. I couldn’t help you, I couldn’t be strong enough.”
The roar was returning, the walls were crumbling. I could feel him getting weaker, could feel him drifting away. Louder and louder the sound bellowed, as his breaths grew shallower and shallower.
It had a grip on my mind, but I resisted it, holding onto my dad’s hand. “We will fight this together!” I shouted. He died.
And something wonderful happened. I was in control, with a blue tendril guiding me, it became like a limb to me, but imbued with the power of creation. I had to share my new gift, had to put things right. I rebuilt the walls, brought light back and then focused on my dad. He breathed deeply, a grateful grin crossing his face as he rubbed off the bloodstain that covered his smooth skin. “You saved me!” He exclaimed, hugging me.
I don’t know if this is real.
I don’t care.
Dan: Please, someone make this! Uwe Boll, I’m looking at you.
Boo. Be sure to celebrate your Friday the 13th in style by babbling illogical stories at people, or showing people the freaky things you can do with a Move controller. Or, if you’re too lazy/drunk/high to move, simply leave us some thoughts in the comments below, get more personal by emailing us at DailyReaction@PlayStationLifeStyle.net, or get a computer algorithm to follow us for you at Seb and Dan.