F07-PP Heart Failure

[Oscar 0]

The day had begun like any other. Oscar rose to greet the dawn, swinging his legs out of his bed. As his feet touched the floor, he raised his arms above his head, shaking out the doldrums from the night’s rest. Strangely, he was in a pretty good mood. Nothing was really weighing on his mind. The stress and anxiety of the Blackbook’s opening night was far behind him. Truly, he didn’t know what to do with himself. He let out a yawn, covering his face as he slowly ambled towards the door. Maybe he’d call up… someone. He could do with a day off. Some good, old-fashioned rest and relaxation.

Oscar didn’t really notice the warning chime, blood rushing to his ears as he stretched once again. It wasn’t really until that shock ran up the left side of his chest that he even noticed anything was amiss. It hurt - actually hurt. It was shocking, feeling real pain for the first time. Instinctively, his hand clutched his bare chest. Still on the stairs, his knees buckled. By some miracle, Oscar kept himself upright. Just enough to take a few more steps.

It was agonizing. Every breath. And then the warning popped up.

Attempt at NerveGear removal Detected. Character Termination in three seconds.

A bright red warning, flashing. Through the searing pain that raged through his torso, Oscar couldn’t really make sense of it. Hell, he could barely read it through the tears that stung his eyes.

Attempt at NerveGear removal Detected. Character Termination in two seconds.

It didn’t make sense. Not the pain, not the warning. As his feet padded down to the main landing, his knees finally gave out from under him. Oscar slumped forward, body crashing down upon the cool marble floor. He couldn’t move. All he could do was watch the warning scroll across his screen once more.

Attempt at NerveGear removal detected. Character Termination in one second.

 

[Oscar 0]

His world went dark. Dark static taking over his vision - beginning at the center and bleeding outward. It felt like an eternity, but it must have only been seconds. Another warning flashed over his vision, bright and vibrant against the umbra. This one was purple. Not the warning red that he’d just been subjected to.

Error detected. Recalculating.

Seconds passed.

Vital diagnostics initiated. Results indicate cessation of Cardiac function for 7.8 seconds.

My heart stopped.

Interference determined to be the result of life-saving measures - presumably via electric shock. Audited results do not detect intentional interference in proper NerveGear function. Rescinding termination.

Life rushed back to his vision. His home. His familiar, sitting back on his haunches, sniffing his fallen master. Oscar stirred, groaning as he tried to muster the strength to lift himself off of the ground. It didn’t come. He was only just barely capable of lifting himself a few inches before his arms gave out.

Why the fuck am I so tired?

Fatigue wasn’t something Oscar was used to anymore. And this went well past anything he’d ever experienced before. It was a struggle to inhale. To blink. And he didn’t have any answers as to why. Just an ominous message from Cardinal that his heart had stopped. He supposed that he should have counted himself lucky that Cardinal had the good sense to maybe check before frying his brain.

[Oscar 0]

“Easy there cowboy.”

There was the sound of feet padding over the floor. He tried to crane his neck, to at least lay eyes on the intruder. Again, his body failed him on something so simple. Every attempt to move made that searing pain in his chest roar back with a vengeance. The intruder stepped into view. At first, all Oscar could see was his bare feet. Then, he sat down.  A copy of his avatar, though there were a few differences. Dark striations marred his skin, coiling around his body. He looked like those pictures of lightning strike survivors. The electricity having followed the path of least resistance, leaving scars in their wake.

The other Oscar raised his hands in surrender. “No, no. It’s not time for your bi-yearly hallucination. Cardinal failsafe. The big ol’ AI in the sky figured the best person to explain things was, well… you.”

Oscar had the long and short of it. At least he thought he did. It was rather difficult to think straight when he couldn’t move.

“We’re trying to get your pain dampeners back online. Just breathe. You’re fine.”

Oscar somehow knew that his double was leaving out that last part. For now. As that thought crossed his mind, his double frowned.

“Yeah. For now. Can’t really say we know for sure what happened. All we know is that your heart stopped and then your NerveGear got zapped. Which was what threw up that false flag. Cardinal’s sorry about that by the way. You know how it is. Programming. But hey, at least you’re saving so much money on some sick tats.”

Oscar really hated himself right now. That would be the exact sort of joke he’d make in this situation. And he didn’t know if he hated himself or if he hated the fact that Cardinal was able to make such a convincing copy of his consciousness.

 

[Oscar 0]

A long silence passed between him and his double. Suddenly, the other Oscar tilted his head to the side, perking up his ears as if he was listening to something. A smile crept onto his face and he nodded quickly.

“There we go. Should be back up in… now.”

A wave of relief crashed over him. His muscles - tensed from the pain in his chest - relaxed. The burning abated and he felt the strength return to his limbs. Oscar exhaled a ragged sigh of relief, pushing himself up off the floor and rolling onto his back. He stared up at the ceiling, doing his best to get his bearings.

“So the good news is, the big dog was kind of a genius. He figured that with ten thousand people, at least one of you guys would have a major health scare. We got systems and failsafes in place. Theoretically, if you wind up needing to be operated on, you should be fine.”

Oscar slowly turned his head to look at his double. “Theoretically,” he croaked out. He still didn’t feel as if he had his breath. 

“Yeah, well. It’s not like we really stress tested the whole pain dampener situation. Best case, you don’t even realize it happened. You’ll be notified after the fact, of course. We don’t want you walking around scared of your heart just… stopping. Worst case…”

“The pain dampeners don’t work. I feel everything.”

“Unfortunately so. But, silver lining! If they zap you again, we got your Player ID flagged. So you won’t be getting accidentally fried unless they try to pull the whole NerveGear off.”

“God I fucking hate you right now.”

[Oscar 0]

“Yeah, I know.”

His double reached over and patted him on the shoulder. “But you shouldn’t worry about it. Judging from the reaction time, you got some bomb doctors looking out for you. And hey, you’ve been shot before. Shouldn’t be much worse. Just… uh. We don’t recommend any combat for a minute. At least until this all shakes out.”

His double craned his neck, once more listening to a voice that Oscar couldn’t hear. He nodded along, finally hopping to his feet.

“Well that’s about it for me. You just enjoy your sick tats and try not to worry about stuff too much. It’ll be fine. Despite what you might think Cardinal doesn’t want to see everyone die. At least… not to stupid shit like a heart attack.”

“Question before you go,” Oscar said.

“Yo?”

“Is this what I sound like to people?”

“Oh totally. You’re kind of a dick. Maybe work on that. Self-improvement and all that fun stuff. Anyway, I’m out. See you at your next hallucination!”

And like that, he was gone. There one moment, gone the next. Leeroy and Jenkins finally started moving, padding up to Oscar, both heads licking his face. Of course his familiar would leap on the opportunity to slobber all over him when his guard was down. He reached up, scratching both heads behind the ear. Their hind leg began to shake, scratching at the tile as Oscar moved to sit up. Looking down at his hands, he understood what his double had meant about “sick tats.”

But honestly, he just really didn’t know what to do right now. What, exactly, did one do with the news that they just suffered a heart attack. He had to presume some of the time spent in bed would be coming to terms with it all. But he didn’t feel any different. Which somehow made the looming threat of heart failure all the more upsetting.

Did it have anything to do with what he did in game?

What if he got angry? Fought a quest boss? Went for a run? Had sex?

What was or wasn’t off limits? Could he make it better? Could he make it worse?

“Oscar you have the worst luck.”

 

[Oscar 0]

As he sat there in his foyer, Oscar was pulled in two different directions. Torn between writing out his Last Will and Testament and throwing himself back into his work, all he could really think to do was pet his dog. Staring off into space, barely noticing the soft fur of the creature who had curled up beside him and rested his head on his lap. Oscar was a thousand miles away, mind racing at a thousand miles an hour. His movements were jerky, robotic. Simply going through the motions.

It reminded him of that first Quest Boss he’d fought. That first real fight. Where it came down to the wire. Whichever one of them hit next would decide it. It wasn’t the first time that Oscar had been faced with his own mortality. No, that was a gift given to him by three bullets. One hand departed from his familiar. His fingertips ran over his chest, feeling that jagged scar at the center. He’d been lucky then. A few millimeters to the left and it would have hit his spine. His fingertips trailed down to the second, just below his right lung. Another through-and-through. Just an inch higher…

The final shot had left a long scar along his rib cage. A flesh wound, small caliber bullet bouncing off his ribs and sticking in his flesh. Adrenaline had been his saving grace. Numbed the pain, kept him moving. Blows raining down, gun controlled. If not for that, he’d have a fourth scar in the best of cases. But at the worst…

It was a sharp wake-up call. He’d made himself all but invincible here. Perhaps this was the universe’s way of making a point. Correcting his hubris. Putting the lie to his folly. But why shouldn’t he do now what he did back then? Take it in stride, as he always had. But he didn’t usually have a dark cloud hanging over him. The shadow of the reaper looming large behind him, scythe at the ready, blade dangerous and sharp.

Not recently at least.

Because it called him back to the time when his Hounds were still rabid. When they still followed the whims of a madman. When they stalked and waited and clung to the shadows. They could have struck at any point. In his home, in his shop, among his friends.

“I guess I’ve been here before, guys,” Oscar whispered. His fingers scratched at the scruff of his familiar’s neck. So why did it bother him so much?