The Carnival

[Kazuya]

Night was a dark, digital blanket across the confinements of the Carnival. It was the only thing here in this digital world, and the hotel at its southeastern edge had a view that encompassed its entirety. Outside of her fifth floor window, she saw it all in its neon splendor. Before this, she’d never been this close to modern technology and its workings, although she knew that it had been out at least a hundred years or so already. Once again, she was reminded of just how archaic she was, just how misplaced she was amongst the world. Her time had come and gone, but she wasn’t blessed with death as the rest of her family had been. She’d been suffered to live an eternity, provided she took care of herself, as long as this demon lived within her. And demons, she understood, lived a very, very long time. Hell, she might even live long enough to see the end of her entire species, and quite possibly the rise of a new one.

Sighing, the warrior closed the blinds and turned to face her bed. It was a large piece of furniture, even more comfortable than the one Gabriel had offered her. Pillows were stacked high at the head, a big fluffy blue comforter hugging across its entirety. The fabric was glossy, like a high shined silk, and just as soft. Of all the trappings of the modern world, this was definitely one she could get used to.

As a drifter, there were many things that she’d passed up on, or was just too stubborn to let into her life. She was a very traditional person, preferring things the way she had become accustomed to in her youth, very much like most other people. Generation after generation, she’d seen them forsake the old, and embrace the new. It was a perpetuating cycle that would end only when humanity did. Or maybe not. If she was the last of her kind, would it be on her to teach Earth’s successors the old ways, or would they evolve to make new? Would there even be a succeeding generation?

A knock at the door shook her from her deepening thoughts, and just like that, Kazuya had lost track of almost an hour, just standing there staring at the bed. It had to say something about just how fragile her state of mind was, especially over what had happened such a short time ago. She had been manipulated, not intentionally, but something had happened that forced her to reveal a secret that had been buried for centuries. It made her hate her situation, and the reason why she was in it in the first place.
Gamer. If she ever got out of here, his life would belong to her, but it would be a slow, painful demise. One she would enjoy dragging out as long as possible.

Another knock, and she finally answered. “Coming.”

Grabbing a robe off the hook near the bathroom, she slipped it on before answering the door. As it creaked open, a sprightly, youthful face greeted her with a smile. A tall young brunette female, a little too perfect to be real, smiled up at her, a row of perfect white teeth taking up a good portion of her comely face. And, damn was she tall.

“Hi, I’m Mixie!”

Kazuya was silent, staring at the girl with the skin tight blue bodysuit, wondering silently to herself if the girl had any modesty whatsoever. She’d never understand this fashion trend, nor did she approve of it. “What do you want, Mixie?” Her lukewarm tone didn’t bother the girl in the least, not the reception she was looking for.

“I am here to make sure all the players of Kill Town are comfortable,” the scrawny brunette replied cheerfully. “Is everything okay, Ms. Uzumaki?”

“Peachy.” Kazuya barely even hinted at a smile, completely unmoved by Mixie’s kindness. “I don’t think that’s why you’re here. What the hell do you want?” The younger woman frowned, such a misplaced emotion and so sudden, it caught the older woman by surprise. That got her damned attention, Kazuya thought smugly.

“About the last scenario…” Mixie started tentatively, her voice knocked down a few levels as she approached the topic carefully. “The crew was not previously aware you would have such a…negative reaction to the story. Perhaps you could inform me of anything else that would make this experience less unpleasant, so I may make note and send it to the programmers?”

“How about this, Mixie, ‘FUCK. OFF.’ How’s that for a note?” Kazuya’s lips twisted in a feral smirk. “You tell that motherfucker as soon as this game is over and I’m outta here, I’m going to make it my personal mission to hunt him down and flay his flesh from his body. He will suffer for what he’s done to me, and every motherfucker in this game.”

Mixie’s eyebrows furrowed together with worry, not liking the response at all. “Well, I don’t know if I can-“

“You can, and you will;” Kazuya spat. “Or so help me, I’ll find a way to get out of here and-“

“Ms. Uzumaki, that would be impossible.”

“Yeah? How so? I’m sure there’s gotta be a way out of here somehow…”

“You aren’t real.” Mixie replied, voice completely matter-of-fact. “What you feel, what you see is a projection. An avatar. Your body is in sedation in a separate compound, where it will remain until Gamer is finished.”

Kazuya was silent for several long, uncomfortable moments, thinking, and failing, of something to say; something that didn’t sound stupid, or futile. “Lies,” was all she could come up with.

Mixie chuckled softly. “No, I’m afraid it’s quite true, in fact, here, let me show you something.” The petite female’s fingers danced across the screen of the device she held in one arm, a faint beep! elicited from a tiny speaker somewhere on the black slate, and the woman smiled. “Look over there, in that mirror.”

The ex-samurai shook her head. “Smoke and illusion,” Kazuya snorted. Her feet, however, moved on their own accord, over towards the aforementioned mirror. She was greeted by a pair of big blue eyes, long, purple hair, and skin a few shades lighter than her normal almond. She was garbed in dark denim pants that hugged her curves, emphasizing the delicate and feminine shape of her body. A black tank fit snugly around her chest, her ample chest defined perfectly beneath the cotton fabric. The face was familiar, the expression definitely one of her own.

It hit her suddenly that she almost stumbled. She was her great granddaughter, that Violet woman she met at the hospital not too long ago. “A very convincing lie,” Kazuya said bitterly, her face turning towards her guest. “I am not one for magics, Mixie. I cannot quite explain how you’ve done this, but I applaud you for your effort.”

“It’s not magics, Kazuya, it is as I’ve said: you’re not real. What you feel, what you see, everything in this world is just a part of the program, and when you wake up, you will be back in the real world. All of this will be gone.”

“But Gamer will still exist.”

Mixie hesitated before nodding. “Correct.”

“And he’ll be within reach.” Kazuya felt the smile spreading across her face.

“Not…exactly.”

Kaz quirked a purple brow, frowning. “Oh?”

“The grounds are protected by various technologies, animals especially trained to keep intruders away, and other things that I am not at liberty to speak of. I can say with utmost certainty, your chances of a successful intrusion are very unlikely, if not impossible.”

“We’ll just see, won’t we, Mixie?” the smile returned, a dark warmth suddenly swimming through her body. She had ways, Kazuya thought smugly. If what this woman said was true, that she was just an avatar, and her body lay somewhere else, then upon her awakening, Gamer would be dead by the end of the first day, or she would really test how far her immortality really stretched. Either way, life was not going to be very pleasant for this asshole, that was a guarantee the Japanese female stood by.