A Neocron Love Story
It had taken weeks, a couple of months really before Tracy agreed to go out with Arron.
He had been pestering her for awhile now about how much he cared for her. The office where the two worked was rather small and it made it difficult for Tracy to find a good place to hide when she wanted to get away from the world and eat her lunch in peace. Time after time, Arron who had been employed by the company for some 7 years, would find her and invite himself to sit and eat his lunch with her, all the while talking about how much he enjoyed her company.
As the weeks went on, Tracy found herself starting to feel sorry for Arron. It wasn't as if he was a man worthy of pity or anything, just a bit lonely. All he ever did was talk to her about how much he enjoyed his time online and playing some game he called "Neocron". She of course deemed him a grown man, with a kind face and boyish habits. Her love life had managed to find itself falling apart long before it ever got started and she had grown tired of the everyday run of the mill "oh baby" lines thrown to her several hundred times a day, by would be boyfriends looking for a quick thrill. She needed substance for once in her life.
One afternoon, during a 20 minute break from their boss's yelling, Arron who had just completed filing most of the day's reports and some of tomorrow's found Tracy staring off in the distance at a bird who had gathered some twigs and was just about to build a small nest on a branch of a tree, just outside her office window. Arron who had been watching her, got up and quietly walked over. Not wanting to disturb her or the young friend she seemed to have found, he sat at a desk behind her and watched. He dreamed of one day catching her attention the way that little bird did, of gathering their things and after exchanging their love for one and another, leaving this place and going somewhere far, somewhere far far away from here. A place where two can share their time, their hopes, their love. He wanted so much what Tracy's little friend had, her attention, and its freedom.
She sat a bit longer, gazing out at the window. It wasn't until old man Ryan, there ever so pain in the ass boss came stomping by her desk, shattering her dreamlike state. "Let's get going Miss," he said in that strong and annoying voice. "No time for day dreaming young lady, time cost us money, you'd be wise to remember that," he continued. Arron had made like he was looking for something from the desk he had been sitting at. He tried to become invisible, to disappear into a third plane of existence. He tried to blank out mentally, hoping to reappear at his desk avoiding old man Ryan, but more importantly, Tracy. He looked up to see her staring at him, her eyes fixed on his for the very first time since he's known her. She had looked at him before, glanced even while talking and eating. But never the way she was looking at him now. "I'm that bird" he thought. My god, I'm that bird. Arron thought of the chances he would have of ever getting that look from her again. "Moments like this, are one in a million," he thought.
"Don't you go wasting this Arron ole boy, don't you dare."
After clearing that large lump that seemed to appear as if out of nowhere, lodging itself in his throat, he spoke. "Tracy, listen. I'd really like to have you come over for dinner this weekend. I'm not much of a cook and heaven knows I don't know much about wine or where to get some, but I promise you that should you say "Yes" I would do everything I could to make it a very special day and to make you glad you said yes. I'm not begging and don't mean to offend you in anyway, but I like you so much and I was thinking that if you liked me just a little, that we could have a nice day of fun together, I would be a gentleman I promise, you could even bring a friend if you felt uncomfortable being alone with me. I swear I'd never do anything to hurt you Tracy, nothing to make you mad at me...never."
He was about to continue delivering a host of lines that had come from somewhere deep inside him. On that spring day, words continue to just slip from his lips and after clinging to the air before her, fell directly into her lap where she looked down at them, eyes glittering at their beauty. She had yes, four times before Arron who continued talking, finally realized. His heart skipped several beats and he for a moment thought he was having a heart attack. With a chest still being pounded from the inside, by a heart racing in circles he smiled almost not believing what he had heard. A voice inside him whispered "thank you God, thank you so much"
By Saturday morning, he had awakened two hours early. A night of restless and wonderful dreams layered upon themselves in a full course of dining bliss, feeding a soul starved for attention and a soft touch. He walked over to where his computer had been located and clicked it on. A Windows icon appeared on the screen and that flag began to wave slowly forming itself into a giant "X" and then a "P". He sat down and decided to log into the world of Neocron where he was known as "Cloud Dancer". A quick run through the storage area where he was hoping to acquire a slotenhancer from a Warbot at the end. He was hoping to later have a builder make him a slotted lasercannon, he knew of one such builder, best in the game they say. And with this one part, and her building skills, he would have the weapon it had taken him weeks to level to. All he needed was time.
It wasn't until he noticed that buttons on his keyboard, were fading into darkness that he realized that he had been playing all afternoon and some of the early evening. The clock on the wall said that Tracy would arrive in about 45 minutes, and he hadn't taken a shower or even decided on where or what they would eat. Without the part and a storage hall still filled with monsters, Cloud Dancer raced towards the front, the beginning of the storage hall, dodging missiles and spells cast from the creatures inside. Barely making it out alive, he ran quickly to the plaza section of the city where players in that world would find him standing, still breathing. In the real world, Arron had backed himself away from the computer and raced towards the bathroom, to shower, shave and get ready for Tracy.
He had finished getting dressed and had managed to put on some nice soft music, and had even ordered Italian take out. He wasn't sure what she wanted, so he asked the woman on the phone what she thought would be nice. "Oh I'd love to get our pasta and shrimp, it's sooo good." she said. "That sounds nice." Arron replied, and ordered two with salad and bread sticks. "A nice wine too please." he said. "Something you'd like as well", and smiled to himself with amazement at the words still falling from his mouth. He combed his hair and removed his black framed glasses, replacing them with the contacts he had bought a year ago and never worn. He was just about to log off from the world of Neocron and was just walking into the room where his computer sat gleaming. Cloud Dancer continued standing still, and still breathing. When the doorbell rang, gripping his heart and stopping it for what left like a minute. He opened the door to see a young and beautiful woman, standing there and smiling. His eyes raced from side to side, and up and down trying to take in every inch of her at once. "Hi Arron" a soft voice said and he found himself straining to remain standing. His legs wanted to go South and arms West, as he tried to keep everything together, tried to remain calm although inside chaos had erupted sending emotions into hyper drive scattering off into separate directions, at once. He managed to control himself long enough to snap out of his current haze and invite her in. As she walked by him, a gentle breeze of her fragrance, danced beneath his nose rendering him useless, for about five seconds. "I like your place Arron." she said, and turned to see him smiling with pride. "Thank you" he replied and reached for the light sweater she had arrived wearing. He placed it in the closet, and after smiling once more this time at her, he asked her to have a seat. She walked over and sat in his favorite chair, folding a pair of long legs and leaning on one of the arms. She continue slowly looking around his place, glancing at pictures of art paintings and some books he had leaning against each other, in the corner. Bright blue lights danced on his stereo as a CD player's laser beam read a Miles Davis disc. The trumpet, soft and mellow, drums beating quietly and a bass line now keeping rhythm with the mood. "I hope you like Italian" he said. "I ordered some dinner and wasn't sure what you like so I......." He was about to tell her, give away a secret that he had asked another woman for suggestions, but decided not to. "What would be the point?" he said to himself. "Oh I love Italian!" she said. He was happy to see a bright smile come to her face that seem to almost light up the room. Tracy was still wearing a smile on her face, when it seemed to drop off. She turned her head and looked off in the other direction. Arron could see a quick change in expression on her face, a now puzzled look, almost questioning. "What's the matter?" he asked. Inside he was on the verge of falling apart, something told him he had done something wrong, ruined an important element in making his date with Tracy a nice one. Now it was he who darted his eyes around, looking for his mistake. "I hear something" she said. "Music, but not from the CD, elsewhere." she added. She stood up and smiled again at him as she walked around the living room and back towards a small room that he called his "Club house". He followed her slowly admiring both her walk and the way her long brown hair draped down behind her. Once inside, she looked over at his computer where an image of a futuristic city where flying police vehicles and people running by, appeared on his 25 inch flat screen. The music was soothing, a perfect blend of electronic and harmonic mood music. She could see a chat window moving quickly in the lower left hand corner. The voices transmitted in text excited her so. "Is this that game you were telling me about?" she asked. She was still looking at it awaiting his answer. "Yes, it's Neocron, I meant to turn it off and was just about to when you rang the doorbell." He walked slowly passed her and was about to log off and power down the computer, when she asked him to wait. "Show me what you do here," she asked.
Arron P. Wilson sat down and after sliding over a chair for his surprise date, tapped the keyboard and transformed into Cloud Dancer, his alter ego. As he explained his mission, his voiced changed and his eyes grew darker, blending into the cyberworld of the city. Had he looked behind him and to his left, he too would have seen someone else, blending as well. He told her where he needed to go, how to get there, and why he needed to. She looked on with eyes amazed at what she saw. The city's surroundings, the people, places, monsters and events unfolding before her. She quickly took in everything at once, glancing at the keyboard and remember the answers to her questions. "Arron?" she asked. May I play? Her voiced bounced on the very nerve endings of his lust network, gripping them and tugging. "Sure" he said.
He backed away, only to find his chair quickly filled with her 5 foot 8 inch frame. She fluffed her hair and pulled it to the side, eyes remaining fixed and never moving from the screen. "Could you turn up the sound and music, please" she asked. Arron reached over and turned a black knob which sent an increase of volume, which quickly filled the room with wonderful and haunting sounds. Arron had speakers placed in all four corners of the room's ceiling and a thunderous sub woofer on the floor, in the corner. The results were of pure sonic amazement. He stood watching her hands dance upon the buttons, and watched Cloud Dancer synchronize into the storage hall, where once in, began shooting at the large creatures inside. He watched her take hits fired from a giant Titan Warbot. His fist clenched as panic raced up him thinking that she would cause Cloud Dancer to die, losing one of his favorite weapons. But this was not to be the case. She was controlling his Cloud Dancer, and despite an awful and direct hit, she quickly hid behind a large storage cabinet, where she hit the heal button. Ten more minutes past and the great Cloud Dancer, now controlled by Tracy Clemens had not only killed it, but also looted it to find a slotenhancer inside.
"Oh my God!" he shouted. "GET IT TRACY, PICK IT UP AND GET OUT OF THERE!!" he added. She turned and smiled back at him. "Relax Arron, I'll get us out." she replied. She turned back to the screen and after placing the rare slotenhancer along with his other weapons into his inventory, raced out to the opening doorway to the storage hall. She stepped Cloud Dancer out and into a safe area. She spun his computer chair around and smiled with pride. She was indeed having fun. "Let me in there!" he said. "I need to get back to the plaza, I can't believe you got me a slotenhancer....wOOT!"
Arron stepped behind her, almost pushing her aside as he jumped in his chair and began running Cloud Dancer back into the city, a smile fixed on his face. Four minutes later, the ringing of his doorbell indicated that their Italian meal had arrived. "Get that please Tracy!" he said. "It's all paid for and there's money on the kitchen table for a tip." She could still hear the burst of excitement in his voice. She walked towards the door and opened it. A young man stood smiling with an armful of food in two brown bags. She smiled back and after handing him the money on the table, told him thank you. She walked over with the food in her hands and turned off the stereo in the living room. She then dimmed the lights and walked into the kitchen where she placed the food on the table.
Arron Wilson, aka Cloud Dancer was making his way back from the outzone in section 8 when upon his screen appeared speckles of blood. He could feel his vision fading quickly as pain injected it's way through the back of his head. Sounds blurred in his mind and became confused as he lost control of functions and began spitting up blood. Fear exploded in all directions as he leaned forward, trying with all his might to reach the screen where Cloud Dancer now stood, no longer moving forward, but still breathing. Pain beyond pain worked its way upward from the lower part of his brain stem, as he struggled to process the surge of sudden distraction. Again a thud from behind, slamming into the back portion of his skull as he tried to level a sense of awareness, closing it's doors. More blood splattered, covering the screen where a Cloud Dancer who was running, stood and was now breathing. Again he tried to yell out, wanting to scream. Images began to overlap and blend past and present. Memories from the past who's images were stored and tucked away, layered themselves with those of recent. Another burst of pain came, this time visions from his childhood, crossing into those of a life struggling with acne. His first memory of his brother Edward, made it's way onto a 25 inch screen now coated in blood. His lips moved, trying to pronounce words of prayer, as a young man of 37 was losing a horrific battle with his life.
She dropped the cast iron fry pan alongside his body. She stood looking down at it slumped over, a finger on his right hand, still flickering. The music had changed now, and she rather liked the new tempo. "You should have left me alone Arron!" she shouted. "One night, that's all I asked for and you couldn't even give me that!" She reached down and tried to lift his body from the chair. Unable to, she remembered the chair's wheels and wheeled him out the room and down the hall to where another room was, this one with a closet. She pushed him forward and jerked the chair back, sliding him to the floor where she dragged him into the closet, closing the door. She returned to the kitchen where she got some Windex and paper towels. She cleaned the blood from the screen and made one last trip to the kitchen, where she picked up the brown bags. It was going to be a long night and she was glad he had ordered enough food.
Cloud Dancer once again began his way into the famed city of Neocron. There were weapons to be made and he had finally got that slotenhancer he had been looking for, as well as a new owner. A builder of high quality was in town. She sat back, taking a sip of the wine ordered and was not surprise to find she liked it. She smiled to herself as she rolled pasta around one of many shrimp on her platter. She kicked off her pair of shoes and unbuttoned her blouse. She pulled up her hair and fastened it with pins from her purse. Adjusting the chair and tilting the screen once more, she moved Cloud Dancer onward. Minutes later, he had arrived in town where a well known builder took his parts, including a slotenhancer. She built a weapon that any high ranking player would have been proud of. And on that faithful evening, out came the stars. And in the real world of Tracy Clemens, they burned ever so brightly.
To Be Continued Only In The Cyberworld Of Neocron
For Roe Yee
A Woman Named Evol
Some men could spend one hundred life times, and never once find what he had and lost. For it is written that a woman holds the secret keys to that hidden chamber found
deep in the hearts of all men. It is in these very chambers that he hides not only his lust and love, but his truth.
On a cool autumn evening when the trees that once stood tall and green, have now turned death into an array or color and beauty, blanket the hills of a small town. The town could be anywhere USA. It is in this small town where a young man, born from a simple family, in a simple house will learn a simple lesson, not easily forgotten. A pain that carries with it, a life long tradition.
It could very well be that in life the things we want most come to us in desired packages, made of all the richness that life has to give. And in the offerings, comes the sacrifice of a million years in emotional evolution. On this day, Harold Gremmer a young man of 28 still living with his parents and celebrating ten years of employment at Garret's grocery store. He had very few friends and a life voided of much excitement save for his love of nature, and the creatures in it. Leaving school to help a mother getting along after a stroke, he made his way home from work one morning to find a small bird laying on it's back and still moving. It's wing had been broken, snapped if you will by a pellet rifle fired from a boy next door. He reached down and picked up the bird still moving and held it close to his chest. He looked down at it, whispering a prayer for what seemed a harmless gift from the heavens. He stood in the morning air and within minutes, witnessed the final moments of its life. A tear from somewhere inside him made its way to the surface where it leaked from one eye.
Harold buried the bird and marked the grave with a stone found nearby. With hands now in his pocket, he walked away. He looked back once more at the spot where the grave now laid, and forward again. Making his way up the stairs of a house he's known since birth, he noticed the steps leading to the front door had began showing cracks in the concrete, a sure sign of age. His mother asleep upstairs never heard him arrive, she turned over and after adjusting herself for comfort, drifted back into a deep sleep. Harold fixed himself something to eat, and after checking in on his mother, returned to his bedroom down the hall where he sat a his desk. There he pulled out a book mainly of blank pages and began to write. Life has once again left before my eyes and to this I cry. My much needed desire still unfulfilled. So much of what seem real has shown itself otherwise. Is nothing forever anymore? Death, this time to a bird, born for life and journey to be free. Tonight, I will pray once more for those things before me that are still unchanged (HG 1987)
Closing the book, he finished eating and lay back on his bed. The wind outside his window picked up and was now blowing twigs and small branches against the glass. He could hear his mother cough down the hall and listened. She coughed once more then fell silent. By 6:30pm all was dark outside and the wind had settled down. The streetlights had done little to illuminate the grounds outside their home. Staring up at the ceiling Harold lapsed into a deep sleep where he thought only for a moment, of a small bird.
He'd awaken to a rich and crisp autumn morning. The cool morning air had gently peeked through a small crack in his window and released him for a solid dream, for which he had no memory. Reaching over for a clock on the nightstand, he noticed it was only 5:15am. He'd never been awake this early in his life. But here he was, awake and alive as he's never been before. Harold sat up and after scratching his head, stood up and walked down the hall towards his mother's room. There he found her, sleeping ever so peacefully. Her breathing had slowed to a clam rate and she looked much younger. Her hair which had been graying rather quickly, had reversed somehow, now dark brown. He started to wake her, but decided not to.
As he quietly walked down the stairs, he noticed that the creaking sounds that often came were gone. Beneath his feet were planks of solid wood, strong and stained. There was also a scent in the air. Harold had known of this house and the things in it. He knew every inch of it, including the scent. He remembered the first time he smelled his mother's baking, their first family dinner with dad just home from the war. He knew the smells that came from it during the heat of summer, as well as the sweet moisture of a rainstorm in the distance. But this was different. As he made his way downstairs on this morning, something completely different. It came as if out of nowhere and it hung quietly in the air. He inhaled and inhaled again. Neither food nor plant it was. A light scent that pleased him so. As he made his way into the kitchen located just off from the living and dining room, he caught a glimpse of something in his corner eye. He quickly turned to see a person, someone laying on the family's couch covered in a blanket.
He could see that whomever had made their couch a resting place, was small. Not child small, but small as in a woman. He pulled back the covers to see a small and beautiful face which while covered mostly in long blonde hair, revealed a woman of enormous beauty. Skin as smooth as Chinese silk, a warm glow of youth emanated from eyes closed, but moving beneath their lids. Harold couldn't help notice her perfectly formed lips that glistened. His eyes moved further down her body, taking in her soft and perfect curves that streamlined the flat pillows of the couch. She was wearing garments, that were very plain, cotton mostly. But they were soft in color and clean. He wasn't sure what to do at first. He wanted to reach back up and shake her gently awake. But then, there were his other thoughts. He wanted more then anything, to sit besides her, gazing at her until she awaken. So much peace had come to him in seeing her. Never once had he seen someone so wonderful, so beautiful in his entire life. And there she was, sleeping peacefully in his home, from where he knew not.
He sat down on the floor and crossed his legs, never taking his eyes off her. Sitting still and quiet, he thought of what next to do. Something ever so strange had happened, that much was true. But he sat there, looking on and wondering. The sun's rays of morning light had begun piercing through the curtains and slowly walking across the floor. Harold could see the woman slowly shifting and moving, to adjust herself. She now turned over and quietly moaned. A small hand slowly came from under the family's blanket and touched her nose. Harold remained seated but could see her from a mirror inside the china cabinet, casting her reflection. Seconds turned to minutes as he sat, still gazing on. She moved once more and he could see strains of hair rich in golden pigment. How full and wonderful he imagined it.
He slowly stood up and after glancing towards the stairs leading to his mother's bedroom, he walked over to where the sleeping stranger laid. He reached over and touched the hair now peeking from the blanket. He began slowly stroking it. He wasn't sure how he would react should she awaken to find him, but at that exact moment, he didn't really care. He was still playing with it between his fingers, when she turned over, catching him. He jumped back and was surprised to see that she wasn't. She hardly moved at all upon seeing him. Harold, still standing was now mesmerized by a pair of beautiful hazel green eyes that upon opening seemed to brighten the room. It was as if the sun had waited for her to rise. She blinked several times quickly and smiled a smile he'll remember for the remaining days of his life.
How was he to handle this? He thought. His thoughts that normally would connect to his mouth had been severed, completely disconnected by what he saw. Her eyes now fixed to his as the two, one standing the other laying down, stared back at one and other. Gone was any sense that when put in words, would have agreed to the common law. She slowly pulled back the blanket to reveal to him, all that she was. Harold now took his attention away from her eyes and began following the lines of her face and neck. Time seem to stand still as he made his way down past her shoulders and to her breast. She lay nude, her body of pure perfection. Full breast that seemed to set out from a small back. He could see her come to almost a small point before flaring outward at the hips. Her legs were not very long but seemed to fold neatly beneath the pillow of the couch. He looked back to her face and her cascade of rich and full golden blonde hair. She said nothing as she parted her legs to unveil a patch of rich golden hair, blonde as that upon her head.
Harold could feel himself excited beyond control and felt himself being pulled towards her. As he got closer, he dropped to his knees and began kissing her lips. Silence continued between them as he slowly worked his way from her lips to a long and slender neck. He found himself tasting her as his hands trembling at first, but then gaining control as they slowly waltz up and down every inch of her. He began kissing her breast and gently sucking at her nipples. He could now hear her breathing deepen as his fingers, worked their way inside her warm and moisten opening. Harold began placing himself closer to where she now invited him. He could feel her heat and there was a change and her scent. She pulled him towards her breast as she reached around him, pulling down his pants. She paused and said nothing as she adjusted him to allow him inside. Once inside, Harold felt her warmth. He had to push at first, and saw her wonderful eyes roll towards the top of her head. So warm was she inside, ever so warm. He returned to her breast, clutching them with both hands as he pushed in and pulled out of her. Now a sound came. A voice born only from a god rang in his ears. He could feel her releasing herself from the inside and warm fluid slowly crept from her. Her hands which were gripping him from behind, lowered and grabbed him, forcing him deeper.
He recorded every expression on her face as he continued pushing and pulling, praising and thanking her at the same time. Her beauty beyond beauty captivated him and every sense. He turned her over and kissed her back as he pushed himself back inside. Moans upon moans came once more as she again released herself on him. More of that sweet fluid slowly dripped from her as his body shook with pleasure. Sweat began making its way down along side, his face and dropping on her back. He held her for a second, gripping her from behind and pushed his seeds into her. He shook uncontrollably as he tried to delay that which often cannot. He fell back onto the couch that had been in the family for 25 years, heart still racing out of control. He opened his eyes to see her now turning towards him. Her hair had flocked to one side and was now dark around the edges with sweat. She smiled that smile of hers and without saying a word, climbed on him. He erection had remained and he once again slid inside her, this time with ease. He watches her hump slowly up and down on him, her beautiful face and hair. She held her breast and squeezed her nipples moaning with pleasure. Harold could feel her tighten once more around him and watch those eyes of heaven roll back into her head. She again released herself on him and again he gripped himself to keep from falling apart. Little could have stopped him as he once again fired a burst of pleasure fluid, inside her. She leaned towards him with that smile of smiles and laid her head on his chest, listening to his heartbeat.
By the time Harold had awakened from his nap, the ever so beautiful stranger had once again returned to her deep sleep. Her flawless body lay still, holding him tightly. He could have remained here for the rest of his life, such a perfect moment. He slowly lifted her arm from around his neck and tried to slide himself from under her. Her warmth still very exciting invited him to stay. He pulled back the blanket to cover her and after putting on his clothes, walked slowly up the steps to check in on his mother. Halfway up the steps, their old sounds of creaking returned. He walked in to find his mother still resting, he was about to turn away and head back down the stairs, when he noticed her hair had returned to its partial gray. He paid little attention and shrugged it off. He walked back down stairs only to find the family blanket across the couch. He looked quickly around the rooms and in the kitchen. He darted back into the living room and sat down on the couch. His mind now flooding with questions would soon come to an end. He gathered the blanket still filled with her scent. He held it close reflecting back on that time together. He opened his eyes to see two small stones placed close together on one of the pillows. And at that moment, Harold held the blanket close, understanding. In his world, his was supposed to be a man. But that didn't stop him from crying himself to sleep on the family couch.
Author's Note: A very dear friend of mine in a round about way asked if I ever considered writing a story that didn't have to end in violence. I forced back the urge to burst out laughing
because its true. Mostly everything I write ends in some kind of crazy death. I once wrote a very short story called "The Andersons". It was a Christmas tale where a family of four, lived and loved in peace. Some of you have been on my mailing list for a long time and may have remembered it, or maybe not:) Anyway, I remember my aunt asking me what was wrong? She was so surprised to read a story from me where everything was just peachy creme. It seems that for some of you, I must kill. Must destroy, must tear apart that which seems so good in life. I admit that I enjoy throwing a curve ball at the end of my stories, it kinda makes me smile.
Hope you enjoyed it.