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The choice was made. Steve’s and Stephanie’s real bodies would be terminated in five minutes. In the meantime, in this digital-scape, “death” would arrive at some kind of old age. Whatever that means here.
Steve couldn’t believe he could ever live a normal life in Harvest after everything that happened. When he came here with amnesia he still had instincts that things were wrong, even if he couldn’t grasp why.
He still thinks this, being fully aware of the deaths on his hands before becoming aware of how fake the blood was. What he was willing to do just to get answers… and not die. Not dying is nice.
After participating in a circus of bizarre surreal nightmares, Steve got his answers. The answers did not give him any clarity. He still doesn’t have memory of his life before Harvest, nor grasping the concept of what comfort he has earned living in Harvest for the rest of his life.
Neither did Stephanie, but she was glad to experience whatever this was with him. It was still better than becoming some sort of real serial killer. But dammit, it would be the icing on the shit cake if years living among all of these horribly coded nutcases that he would go insane too. No matter how much of a grounding force Stephanie is.
Who is anyone kidding? This whole racket has loosened more than a few screws in his head. He wonders if he can get away with hitting Miss Waley with her own bat. And if he did get away with it… will it even matter? He killed his “mom” only to see her walking around the next day.
Steve couldn’t fathom what sort of money was spent to get whatever mad scientists to create such a simulation, but it becomes all the more clear why they try to make guys like him into serial killers in less than a week. This place, despite it’s supposed scale, showed how small it really was in it’s limits to its cast of characters. How many characters had his “mother’s” face? Steve was pretty sure mankind had a greater variety of faces than this, right?
—
So here he is, in a blink of an eye, married and a homeowner at the perfect age of 18.
In another blink Stephanie was pregnant. He’s going to be a father. A father to a child who isn’t real. What was the point?
That feeling could be applied to the whole experience couldn’t it?
It was so meaningless. Yet exciting. He was alive. Kinda. It was something different. But how different? Was it a different he and Stephanie wanted? Of all the children in Harvest there was only one child that acted like a child. Stephanie was not keen about questioning if their child was going to grow up to be a blood thirsty maniac.
“Because we aren’t!”
Steve didn’t consider himself bloodthirsty, but it really doesn’t take much in comparison to the rest of the town. The Harvesters found great potential in him. What did he do to attract their attention in the first place?
As usual, Steve carefully chose what thoughts to share with Stephanie. She was the most important being here. He had no interest upsetting her too much. She didn’t need to know how far he went to get to this point, but he isn’t going to sugarcoat it all either.
So he would tell her their child looked a lot like his “baby sister” but with functional eyes and less of a fear of future insect infestations. It’s not as if the child is actually made of their DNA. Its made of whatever the limitations of the simulation.
Thankfully Stephanie laughed.
She is the only thing that is real aside from himself, so that is all what matters.
Due to the limitations of the simulation, Steve finds himself in a status between jobless and the jack of all trades handyman. Constantly doing little quests that make some people’s lives better or worse. Despite the town being a pro-capitalistic place, there isn’t enough people to create any stable loop of monetary flow.
Grocery stores, restaurants and other little food corners would magically restock after a certain time. There is an illusion of money being passed around, but overall, people just give or stole each other’s things. For all the planning it took to make this place, it felt like little to no thought was equally put into the setting.
So this was what normal in Harvest is? In a blink he finds himself and Stephanie older. Maybe some of the cast ages too, but the aging is not as obvious on the others as it rests on them.
Steve find himself restless.
And thus, fuck it. Maybe he became a prankster. Maybe he starts saying wild shit to see what (the limited) reactions the characters would make. Blow up some pipes. Stephanie may not always like the results but rarely does she not walk away laughing.
Its not like anyone else here is real.
Maybe she’s getting a little stir crazy too.
They may not be blood-thirsty, but the environment they live in is. Stephanie struggles to find books or any shows for their child to watch that isn’t senseless violence. Steve can pull a few strings of threats and deaths in the background, but this computer program is not very flexible.
Once the kid is old enough to go to school, Steve is certain that whatever battle Stephanie was fighting will be lost. The Sergeant at Arms may have promised a peaceful life here, but it was directed at him, not Stephanie.
She is just a tool for Order of the Harvest Moon, nothing more.
If anything, best to teach the kid early how to defend itself. His kid might not be real, but there is still the satisfaction of getting some sort of one-over on The Harvesters. Rather the kid come home wearing blood splatter that isn’t theirs.
Steve isn’t sure what age that should be. Its not like what exists for a library around here has anything decent on child rearing. Just nonsense about how if you are good you already know exactly how to act for your perfect nuclear family. It was all Steve could deduce that whenever it is the kid can successfully walk around without falling over (and can colour within the lines?) would be a good time to give them a knife.
—
One day Steve comes home to find Stephanie taking off her bloody clothes to put in the wash. She looks no less upset than if the neighbourhood dog ran through tracking mud in the house.
“Mr. James got handsy at the grocery store,” she gave a tired sigh.
Steve walks around to hug her from the back. As always, she is soft and warm. “Did you slit his throat?”
“No, just his hands.”
Steve nodded and chastised himself. If she had gone for the throat it would be on her face and hair, obviously. In this world, throat wounds are always blood fountains. (Or maybe they always were? Its not like his memories ever returned..)
“If he doesn’t bleed out, would you like me to finish him off?”
“No, I’m good.”
“If his hands grow back, do you want me to cut them off again?”
She laughs.
Good.
Stephanie, his darling, is loosing it. This place is getting to her. But as long as she is having a good time, things are ok. Right?
Should he be more disturbed about how casual she’s being about this? She used to lecture him about much lesser actions he’s done. But the more he thinks about it the more he realises the last time she may have done so was years ago.
Every once and a while, he remembers. No matter how many years its been in here, it has only been seconds, unconscious, in the real world.
“Does this happen often?”
“Maybe. The normal amount? I don’t know… I just wasn’t in the mood today.”Her voice wavers. Steve kisses around her neck.
—
He blinks again and years fly by.
Somehow, despite how insane everyone is, there is a dreading sense of being bored. Is it his conscious being semi aware of where his body really is or is it blanking out the mundanity? Violence being mundane? Is that right?
His child has taken care of the rat problem that was building up around the house and is trying to befriend the crows with the remains.
He really doesn’t care about murder, does he?
The rules were looser here. He’s gotten away with killing others. It… really wasn’t hard. Maybe he is a serial killer. In spirit. Maybe not enough for the freaks who designed this game, but he knows Stephanie would not handle it well no matter how he phrased it. No matter what it took to “save” her in the first place.
But he sees how they are both greying and anger returns.
He has no idea how many minutes he has left. How many years he has left.
“With how slowly Karin is aging, do you think she’ll get along with our baby?” Stephanie is throwing out the dirty dishes. No point in washing them when they can just get new ones easily enough. If they are lucky, the dishes will reset themselves in the cupboards around midnight. “Maybe they could be good friends?”
“I dunno, maybe.” Steve wasn’t really sure because this town was set on trying to kill Karin a lot. And she’s exactly the kind of character that will not reset like the rest. She may not be real, but she was unique enough, more unique than his own child, that gave Steve the urge to wish to see her keep living in spite of this simulation.
—
Months or years later, in a blink, their child would die. Something school shooter related. That sounded right. Steve couldn’t remember the details. Only what Stephanie would say at their child’s grave,
“It’s fine. I never felt like a mother. More like we are playing an extreme version of house.”
“So what’s the high score?”
“Oh my god.”
“Just kidding?”
“Shut up.”
—
He blinks. They are completely grey now. Wrinkles on wrinkles. His joints don’t feel bad but he finds himself limited. As if the program is forcibly holding him back. He remembers he’s angry again. Turns off the TV with a groan and turns to Stephanie sitting to his right.
“I have a really stupid idea.”
“I noticed it,” Stephanie gives a sad smile, “but if it makes you feel better, so do I.”
“Well now I’m excited.”
“Don’t be.” she placed her hand on his knee, “Tell me yours.”
“It’s very morbid.” He squeezes her hand.
“What a coincidence, so is mine.”
“I feel like in another minute we will be dead? So, I was wondering…”
“Would you like to sacrifice me?”
For the first time (in a long time?) Steve felt legitimately shocked. Stephanie starts chuckling and he feels himself relaxing, “That’s usually not your kind of humour.”
“Oh, I’m not joking.” she leans into him, “I’m just relieved that it bothers you. I was trying to ready myself that if I asked you, I would see that dull expression you wear so often.”
“I’m that bad?”
“Who can’t be in a place like this?” She’s hugging him and he hates that it feels like its been years since she’s done so. “If it makes you feel any better, I wondered if I could kill you. But we are dealing with computer programming here. They wanted you to graduate. If I did anything I’d likely just be stuck here with no one. And if that happened I’d likely just kill the entire town and then myself.”
“Aw, maaaan. I hate that you are only telling me this now.”
“What, you wanted me to wish to die sooner?” She doesn’t sound offended at all. Just curious. When did this change happen? Has he ever been able to read her? For all he knows, Steve has only known Stephanie for one (real) day.
“No, I would have loved killing this garbage town with you. But now? I can’t swing the scythe like I used to.”
“Steve, I don’t like killing.”
“Oh.”
Whoops.
“I don’t want to die, but I’m done being trapped here.” She’s blinking tears now, “I just thought, at the very least, maybe you’ll get a second chance—”
Steve rapidly turns. Or at least, as much as he can with a stiff back. “Ok, ok. It sounds like we were almost on the same page. I was thinking of killing you too, but with the idea that we’d both make it out of here.”
Finally a frown crinkled on her still soft features, “How?”
“Originally, for me to graduate I had to kill you. Somehow you being killed would make you die in real life. When I said no, the rules changed. Now you are to die with me in old age. Except… maybe only the rules changed for you?” he leans his forehead into hers, “But if I kill you now? Maybe I will wake up and find a way to wake you up before your time runs out.”
“Or maybe we wake up together? Because we were suppose to die together?”
“Sure, why not? Makes as much sense as anything else.”
“I like those odds!” she was bouncing in place with how excited she was, “When do we do this?”
“Because I don’t know if this would just blow up in our faces, I’d rather wait to the last minute. But I don’t know how soon that is and I don’t want to risk missing our chance—”
“Why not now?”
“Now?”
“As you said, we don’t know how many minutes we have left. We don’t know if anyone is watching us. We don’t want to give them time to react.”
Now that she mentioned it, Steve honestly felt like they had to have stopped stopped paying attention. Its been less than 5 minutes in the real world. They were virtually fast-forwarding his life. That’s why years felt like months that felt like days.
He was still baffled with how smoothly the conversation went. But what was he kidding? Even someone as pure as her was going to get a few screws loose living here for as long as she has. Its just that Steve actually has no instinctual reference for what that is.
No reference?
Was he always like this before bring brought to Harvest?
—
As he ties her up she whispers again, “Are you going to kill me, Steve? Promise me you’ll kill me.”
“What the heck, Stephanie.”
She giggles, wiggling in the ropes. “You sound so young again. It’s funny.”
“I promise I’m going to kill you.”
“Yay~”
Part of this does bother him. Not in the way he thought it should. But Steve doesn’t want to die, as simple as that.
“But you are going to have to convince me that you can act the part. Timing aside, I’m not sure the gatekeeper will be convinced something is up if I drag you up there with a smile on your face.”
“Don’t worry, as soon as I stop finding reasons to laugh I’m going to cry.” She is blinking back tears. “I’m scared.”
“I hate this.”
Another crash of relief wavers over her features, “I’m glad.”
—
Steve really did hate this until he saw The Sergeant at Arms gives him the most delightful of surprised expressions.
“Y-you have decided to cut this awfully close.”
“Surely you saw this coming?” He tosses Stephanie on the floor between them, “I’m a well-known prankster around these parts.”
“I will confess, The Lodge has gone quiet since your choice. Getting ready for a new initiate.”
“Are you saying I can no longer pass?”
“No, no! You can, bu—”
Steve was not going to wait for what the program was going to say next. If it was going to tell him to wait until they reset whatever on Stephanie, that would ruin it all.
So he started stabbing her.
Steve thought he would have issues killing Stephanie. She was the one thing off of his list. But despite her screaming, crying and choking, he kept going.
Maybe there really is something wrong with him.
Steve came here with amnesia. His instincts told him things were wrong here. But the reasons why it felt wrong? Because he knows the average human wouldn’t act like this. Deep down the actions didn’t bother him. He just knows back in the real world, this wouldn’t be accepted in polite company.
Most humans are not like this. He didn’t think he was bloodthirsty, there was just so little to do in this stupid town. And most of the townsfolk were irritating. And also weren’t real.
Yet the following goals he had, if he woke up out of this stupid nightmare was to kill more people. There was a reason why The Harvesters chose him for this. They wanted him to become a serial killer.
The more he thought about it, the more excitement built. They didn’t specify who he had to kill. If anything, they just taught him to get rid of those in his way.
And the Harvesters are in his way.
Whether Stephanie woke up with him or not, Steve had new goals. A hit list that will only as long as however many real members of this group exist. How many could that be? 89?
Maybe he tied her too good, it was a little awkward to pull her spine out. He turns with a smile to The Sergeant at Arms, drenched in digital blood.
Steve did hope Stephanie will wake up with him, that she would join him on killing the fucks who created Harvest. It would be a really great real bonding moment.
Aw darn, he really was kidding himself, wasn’t he?