GOX.
Greg spent hours playing that game!
Greg started to feel like he was going mad.
Maybe that is because he was...
The game never changed. It was the same thing over and over again - the same stupid puzzles...
It was awful.
No matter how much of his own life essence Greg gave it, GOX was giving Greg absolutely nothing back.
NOTHING.
Doubt was sliding into Greg's jellified brain...
Was GOX a hoax after all?
'I can't believe I almost went to prison over this piece of trash game!' said Greg out loud.
O he was growing very angry indeed.
He was actually starting to think about slamming his fist into his computer screen.
He was really going to do it - smash his computer into pieces.
And then another message appeared...
This is what it read:
"The House Is Empty. There is nothing. NOTHING except me."
Then there was an image... It must have snapped onto the screen for less than half a second - just long enough for Greg to know something had happened - and fast enough to prevent him from being able to grab a photo of it.
And then there was another message - it said this plain and direct:
"PLEASE STOP PLAYING - I WANT TO BE LEFT ALONE."
Greg was so disappointed after he read that.
The disappointment finally evolved into depression and the only remedy for depression was booze.
Greg needed to get drunk and forget it all.
It was the only way.
Greg didn't want to leave his bedroom but he needed a drink. Hard drink. And so he climbed the ladder and in his dirty clothes and matted hair set out into the wicked streets.
Greg paused for a minute at the end of the road. He was standing outside the GOX house. He waited a few minutes and then he screamed at it - screamed at the house like the building had ears that cared:
'You LIED to me!' he said.
Greg was too young to buy booze so he was going to have to steal it... That or mug a booze weary drunk and there were plenty of those about in Fenwick even during the day.
Greg made a turn for the Irish Quarter of town.
That place was a grizzly segment of human civilisation - simply one of the worst places to be.
There were old man sitting to tables with their dogs at their sides and they were drinking rancid beer while whole colonies of flies buzzed around their dirty hats. The old men watched Greg go by with defeated eyes over the rim of their beer mugs.
Defeat.
The old men hated and envied and liked Greg not. Greg's youth meant nothing to those old fallen men for those men only dreamed about obtaining one thing - the gift of death. They just envied the way Greg was still able to use his legs...
On the other side of the road there was a troop of Brazilians, probably cartel connected. They were leaning on bars with their vulture wives perched nearby. The men were smoking brown cigars. Fierce looking lads they were, with wads of cash in their hands they were eyeing up the Irish opposite and you got the sense that they were cooking for a fight.
Men died daily on that road - and the police, if they were about, did nothing but watch on with the eyes of buzzards with flapping wings scratching things in a desert of dry bleached bone - careless as the moon and as full of motion as an ant infested tree split to the root.
It was an evil road. The worst place in Fenwick to be sure, maybe even in the whole of Europe.
But it was the best place to go to find drink - liquor hard and strong. The kind of drink that killed gut and brain in one glorious drain - beautiful agony and joy mingled in a single glass...
There was a stray bottle of rum sitting on a table. It was only half full but it was enough to begin with. It's owner was either gone to bed, or had been arrested, and so Greg took the glass up and drunk everything in it right down in one flow and go.
That one drink was enough to revive the good old sparkles in the brain. They were tingling again - nice stuff!
It was glorious!
The drink was swishing in the gut nicely. Greg had just taken a step across the door of that weird and wobbly world he so much loved to live in - but he needed more of the liquid goodness before the lovely effect wore out.
He visited every bar he could, and sitting at every abandoned table was a glass with an inch or so of foam or liquid, drinking down all of it was enough to keep Greg going.
And so on he went, bar to bar, table to table, glass to glass - till he was FULL drunk and that was a brilliant place to be.
This was how Greg liked it.
Peace and quiet and drink.
But the peace didn't last...
O no.
Humanity always finds a way to break the human... The best game humans like to play is the game that plays one living soul off against another. And that day was a day when humans decided to play again - and Greg would be served up by the universe on a silver plater. He was going to play the game and serve as the madman's muse and all this would happen before the stars had settled.
This is what happened. This is how it began:
A group of underdressed vultures stalked by. They looked filthy - drunk and sporting for trouble. When they saw Greg they threw verbal obscenities his way. After a time their boyfriends waded in. Ugly men they were - waddling pigs with demon eyes. Their grotesque bellies hung over their belts - shameless and vile.
One of these bullies walked over to Greg and insulted him to his face.
But Greg looked down and walked on. He wasn't interested in a fight.
But the pigs were not ready yet to settle down. The day had only began. They started growling. They wanted more... They wanted blood before sunset and they were going to get it.
One of these pigs a thick looking fellow with his hair swept back and rotting teeth accused Greg of eyeing up his partner. 'Are you trying it on with me girlfriend you dirty piece of filth?' he said and he stabbed Greg with his giant sweaty hands. Eventually he punched Greg in the face making the lads nose bleed. The pig had finally got his blood.
The pig's vulture girlfriend decided to feast on the scraps. She quickly dived in and started kicking Greg in the guts. When her temper had all burned up she spat on Greg and then hissed at him. After she had finished she linked arms with her pig boyfriend and together they returned to their gang. They walked away laughing into the kindling day.
A kind old man gave Greg a hand up. With his help Greg got back to his drunken feet.
The old man was quite the character, with long white whiskers which he kept brushed down with his long dirty fingers he looked like a wizard.
This wretched bundle of bones you might call a dog liked to follow him around.
The old man had a high pitched voice:
'This is a bad road to be on, son,' said the old man. 'This is where the gangs gather and fight. It is not safe to walk here not alone anyway.'
'You are alone,' said Greg.
'Aye but I ain't worth killing,' the old man replied. 'When you are as old and defeated as I am most villains like to keep you alive. Life for men like me is more of a punishment. The universe is weird like that. The universe keeps the very things you desire the most as far away from you as possible. I want to die right now. But yet no man will kill me. But then they will kill you. And that is because you do not want to die yet. You might think you want to die, but you don't want to die. You still have things to live for, son. NO matter how bad things get,' and he gave Greg a comradely pat on the shoulder, 'there is a reason you want to live, boy. So don't let them kill you. Get off of the streets now! Go home. Study. Make a life for yourself.'
Greg didn't know what to say.
The old man was very kind - you just knew he was by the sound of his voice and the look in his eyes. You could feel his rare human goodness in his vibe.
Greg was going to thank the old man for his generous gentle words, but then Greg's eyes dropped down to the mans hands. He was holding a bottle in a plastic bag.
'Fruit juice?' said Greg to the old man as the young man eyed up the bottle.
'G-Juice... Double G!' the old man replied.
Double G?
DAMN!
DAMN!
THE BEST and Greg knew it.
Greg was already full drunk in that moment and that alone will help to explain why he did what did next.
Greg punched the old man in the teeth and then kicked him after the poor fellow had finally collapsed to the ground.
Greg leaned over the old man and said, 'There is always someone out there who wants to kill you! No one is immune to the horrors of nature. I thought you would know that at your age, stupid fool!'
The old man groaned.
'You probably think I am insane,' said Greg chuckling bitterly. 'Don't think like that, old man. I was born insane. So for me being insane is just another day and a way.'
Greg snatched the bottle out of the old mans quivering hands and ran home.
Greg felt bad - but it had to be done. He had to steal that liquor.
Armed with the booze Greg climbed the ladder back up into his bedroom.
Finally home and lying on his bed, Greg drank and drank...
And drunk and drunk.
He wanted to die.
"Please booze! Let me go to sleep! Let me sleep and let me die!"
Greg opened his eyes.
He was lying in bed.
Everything was a blur.
It was three in the morning.
The darkness was so dark.
There was a giant spider the size of a cat sitting on his lap.
"Good lord save me! I...I am NOT alone. I am afraid! So afraid..."
The DT's were on their way...
Shadow people started to take shape around his bed.
First there was one. Then two. Then three. And then Greg was surrounded!
They grabbed at him. They threw him about. They dragged him out of his bed. They dropped him on the floor. They picked him up and dropped him down again.
He could feel their fingers sink into his flesh. It hurt terribly.
One of the shadows grabbed his throat.
Greg struggled to breathe.
Eventually Greg stopped struggling and surrendered - and then Greg heard an evil voice in his head and it said:
'We are taking you to a horrible place boy!'
Greg woke up again for a second time that morning.
Now he was no longer in his bedroom...
The shadow people had dropped him off inside a strange building he had never seen before.
There was a red rug on the floor leading to a counter with a bell.
There were no sounds - it was all empty and quiet.
No windows and no doors leading anywhere just the one room with the counter and the red rug and the bell.
Then a man who looked like he was made of plastic waddled over to the Greg and said, 'Welcome to the Hotel Fantastic! Would you like a room?' And then he repeated, 'Would you like a room? Would you like a room?'
Greg couldn't look at him - the plastic mans eyes were glistening, and he was so real...
Real beyond belief!
It was too much for Greg to take in.
Greg knew he was NOT dreaming.
Maybe he was dead after all?
Maybe he was in purgatory?
DAMN!
So this is what the afterlife really looks like then? He thought.
So this is what the afterlife really looks like then? He thought.
How disappointing - like everything else really. Why shouldn't death be just as disappointing as life? One thing leads to the other and all things lead to the same thing. That is the truth and that horrible morning Greg knew it for real.
Greg got up and the plastic man led him over to a wall.
'There is a door here,' said the plastic man. 'You can't see it but it is there. Go through and follow the stair...' and the plastic man repeated, 'follow the stair. Follow the stair.'
So Greg walked through the wall and did what he was asked to do.
He followed the stair.
And then another stair.
And another stair.
On and on. Up and up.
Till he reached a wooden door painted all white.
Greg had this feeling that there was something evil on the other side of the door...
It was just a hunch - but it was real and he was very scared. Greg started to think: 'Hang on a minute! I...I have seen this door before... maybe in another life? DAMN this is horrible!'
Greg hesitated. He turned around but there was the plastic man standing at the bottom of the stairs. The plastic man was following him. The plastic man had changed. His face was all contorted and he had an evil grin and then he said to him:
'Don't look at me!' and he repeated, 'Don't look at me! Don't look at me!'
Greg opened the door and went through.
No sooner had Greg stepped into what looked like his own bedroom a vast man who Greg could only describe as the devil snatched him up and started swinging him around in the air like he was a little child again.
The devil looked like the devil, red skin, green eyes, forked beard and forked tongue - horns growing out of the scalp of his head. The devil started speaking to Greg. This is what he said:
'Hell is a hotel in hell!' and he repeated, 'Hell is a hotel in hell!'
The devil put Greg back down on his feet and then he started to speak:
'Welcome to the lower astral, sonny!'
Greg was too frightened to respond. He just stood there shaking.
'We have got the whole gang here! Let's welcome them in!'
Hellish and horrible disco music started to play and that was when a huge gang of total crazies poured into the room all of them one after the other:
Little Grays, huge lizard men, giant locusts, shadow men - the whole horrible lot of them. They linked together and started dancing in a circle around Greg.
They danced and they danced as the devil sang:
Hell is a hotel in hell! Hell is a hotel in hell!
Greg woke up again but this time it was for real, thank goodness. That lucid dream was getting a bit out of hand.
The hangover was over. The DT's were gone.
He was alive - he had survied the ride!
Trembling and soaked in cold sweat, Greg decided he was going to give GOX a second chance.
He put the game on and started to play.
This time there was no messing around.
The game gave him what he wanted.
First came this message:
"Thank you for playing. You passed the test! I know you are loyal..."
Greg kept playing.
Things were going good!
Another message flowed up. It read:
"Each soul has a story..."
"Up and Down."
"A man can live in the gutter and have dreams of the sky."
"A man can live on high and die with a sigh before being buried in the gutter."
"God will pluck up a random star from the abyss and clothe it in flesh - on earth he will serve as a conduit for his glory - "
"Keep playing and I will show you the secret of my story -
The secret of house..."
And there was the face...
"Come and find me..."
To Read GOX part 12 click here.
For more adventures set in the town of Fenwick check out:
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My Games
Play Give 'em Hell!
Play Elfin Quest
Play Witches Brew
Play A King For A Day
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