Sometimes, there are certain matters that need to be handled by oneself. Brian Alton realized this very quickly, almost as quickly as his head was slammed violently into a locker. His friends were already off to their classes, so he was all alone. Except, of course, for the hulking tenth grader behind him. He barely had time to turn around when his bag was ripped off him. The school bully had taken his lunch money for the fifth time this year. 

Later that day, Brian walked out of the school’s front gates, still very hungry from the one granola bar he had at lunch. His English notebook was crumpled, but fortunately still readable . He sat down on one of the benches on the school campus and started to do his homework. His mom was supposed to be at work, staying late for a meeting. He sat with his homework, mesmerized by some bees around a flower in the school garden. 

“Welcome to Wave One.”

Brian looked around, trying unsuccessfully to find the source of the words.

“Enemies will spawn in five minutes.”

Once again, Brian sat there, confused. Just a moment ago, he had been sitting on a bench outside the school doing homework, but now everything felt different. The landscape was the same, with its nicely trimmed shrubbery and short little trees in front of the school garden. His backpack and homework were gone. The rush of parents picking their children up was gone as well. Only some birds, the bees, and a squirrel remained.

“Yo, slow down. What do you mean ‘Wave One’?” Brian spat into the emptiness around him. “Where am I? Tell me!”

He was feeling a sliver of fear, barely noticeable but ominous. The place didn’t feel existentially stable. 

“You are in a Pocket Dimension, created from the figments of your imagination. Enemies will spawn in three minutes.” 

The truth finally hit Brian. This was a game, wasn’t it? He started to look around for anything to defend himself. 

“One Full Backpack has been added to your inventory. Enemies will spawn in thirty seconds.”

He pulled the backpack off, still not sure what he was doing in a “Pocket Dimension” or whatever it was called. He reached into the backpack and found some beans, a rock, a length of rope, and a small knife.

“Enemies spawning now.”

A goblin clawed its way out of a nearby car still parked at the school’s parking lot and lunged at Brian.

Brian’s encounter with the bully from tenth grade had prepared him for this. The goblin’s claws missed his ears, slamming into the bench. Brian retaliated with the knife he found, throwing it at the goblin. The blade buried itself in the monster’s chest. The goblin stumbled backwards and crumpled, a display of sorts above its head indicating that Brian had dealt 25 damage. A moment later, the goblin turned into little green motes, fading away into thin air. A few pieces of gold, his knife, and a mysterious cube was left behind. Brian instinctively picked up the items as he always did in video games. The gold and knife felt like nothing in his pockets, but he held the cube and felt that it was pretty heavy. 

A little interface suddenly popped up, asking Brian whether or not he wanted to consume the cube. He said yes, and the cube burst into a spiral of red and yellow sparks, engulfing Brian. He felt the same, a little tired and very hungry, still. He waved his hand in the air. Instantly, a beam of flame shot out of his open palm. With another flick of his hand, pillars of flame shot up from the ground in a line. Did he control flames now?

“Wave Two, starting now.” It was the same monotonous voice he had heard earlier. He was standing inside an old warehouse, the walls rusted and old construction materials scattered throughout. Two giant stone creatures crawled out of a pile of scrap metal behind him, sharp protrusions sticking out along their arms. One of the golems caught him square in the back, shockwaves of pain rippling through his body.

Brian flung his hand up, but nothing happened. I guess not every motion that I make is a recognized attack. He swung his fists at the golems, bursts of fire streaking across the enemy’s chest. He lifted a barrel, noticed that there still was a little bit of oil inside, and threw it at the stone creatures. Flames engulfed the barrel, and an explosion swallowed the monsters’ heads. Sharp bits of the barrel flew everywhere, but Brian swatted them away with his fire. 

The golems stumbled, and then fell. Green motes scattered all over the floor as the golems faded away. Brian doubled over coughing, his back in extreme pain. He reached for a red vial that had dropped from one of the stone monsters, and slowly sipped the liquid inside. He felt his bones reforming, the broken fragments disintegrating and new bone replacing the bits.The pain faded, and he stood up, refreshed. 

Phew. At least I can heal here. 

Now he was in a spacious, fancy dining room of sorts. On a table in front of him lay a steaming burger, drops of cheese dribbling out between the three juicy patties. Brian couldn’t resist, and dug in. It tasted amazing, the best thing he had ever eaten. He felt rejuvenated, more energized. Midway through another bite, a giant kitchen knife cut easily through a chair next to him. Gagging, Brian stood up with his own knife out. From behind him, another knife shot out of an open doorway and pierced a painting on the other side of the room. 

Now gunshots could be heard, a volley of lead missing his head and smashing into a pot of soup on a neighboring table. Hot soup poured out, staining the tablecloths and carpet. Brian ducked for cover, scrambling as a flurry of small daggers rained down from a shifted ceiling panel. Brian could see the shape of a figure almost moving too fast for the eye to catch. 

I can’t win this right now! Brian kept ducking under tables and chairs as the room became a storm of sharp objects. A sword sliced his left cheek, and Brian felt blood running down his face. I need to get out of this room! All around him, tables were being reduced to splinters, the mats on the chairs no more than tufts of cotton and bits of fabric. Shards of dinnerware littered the floor.

He bolted for an open door, and managed to escape into the dark hallway outside with only two more cuts. Emergency lighting flashed dimly, and Brian felt a shiver run down his spine as he creeped away from the dining room. The sound of silverware shattering was over now, and Brian breathed a sigh of relief. Just then, he felt trapped in the endless darkness of the hall. He decided against screaming for help, as he had seen that all the other people had disappeared. I’m truly alone here. It’s dead silent.

An almost overwhelming pressure settled in. It took all Brian’s willpower not to end it right then and there. He remembered his normal life and how he was happy. His knife blade was still positioned at his wrist. What the heck?

Brian was shivering. His breath came in gasps. With a little clink, the knife fell to the hard stone floor. I have to push through. If I can leave this place without harm, I’m sure I’ll be more prepared for that bully. He’ll regret the next time he tries to shove my face into a locker. Exhaling sharply, Brian stood up with renewed confidence. He wouldn’t let it all end here. 

A throwing knife clipped his hair just as he turned around. Brian stooped, picked up the knife, and muttered something. A burst of flame shot out of the knife’s hilt, propelling it towards the creature standing in the doorway. Brian heard a wet thunk as the knife found its mark in the enemy’s arm. Brian waved his hand, and the knife exploded. Bits of metal enveloped the monster, who was flung back into the dining room.

Brian was transported again, this time back to a normal world. It was night now, though it had felt like more time had passed. A few cars flew by on a road in front of him, and he recognized his neighbors out walking their five dogs. Huh, I guess it worked. I really did kill the thing, didn’t I. Brian felt the weight of his backpack slung across his back.

The unmistakable smell of his mother’s beef tacos wafted through the air. Am I back home? Brian saw his house right across the street. His beagle was at the gate, barking at him. Brian rushed across the street, flung open the front door, and yelled, “Mom, I’m home!”

His mom rushed to the front door, along with his little sister. “We were worried sick! Come in and have some dinner, bud.” Brian stepped inside, and immediately felt his stomach rumbling when he saw the tacos laid out on the dinner table. His sister giggled and handed him one. 

After dinner, Brian turned on the TV. As he watched his favorite show, he thought about the bully that stole his money. It is so over for him, Brian thought with a smirk.