Jericho The Bard A VRMMORPG Story 57 Reality, No Matter How Undesirable

***

Staul Dante, the aging grave keeper, bundled up. It was a cold foggy October morning. "I'm getting too old for this," he said quietly. He gripped the door handle to brave the chill.

He had just finished sc.r.a.ping the layer of ice off of his truck when he received a call. "Who's trying to reach this early in the morning?" he questioned as he looked at his watch.

He answered. "Good morning little Moira, what do I owe the pleasure of you calling me this morning?"

Moira was silent for a few seconds. "Mr. Dante, please come over and help! It's my brother. He…"

The old man opened his door in a rush. "Breathe Moira. What is going on with your brother that you need help?" He heard the girl take a few deep breaths.

"His eyes are open but he isn't responding."

Staul frowned as he hopped into his truck. "Is he breathing?"

"Yeah," she replied.

"I'm on my way. Why didn't you call the emergency number?" the old man inquired as he hopped in his car and left his house.

"Because, Jericho always said the emergency number people were expensive and that sometimes what seems like an emergency isn't one."

Staul sighed, thinking about how much Jericho didn't care about his own well being. "Tell me, is there anything different about your house that might cause Jerry to go into shock?" he inquired.

"Yeah," she replied again. "Someone threw a rock through our window and there is a note near my brother's hand."

He turned the corner to enter the neighborhood. "Read it to me. You and I both know a broken window wouldn't faze your brother."

Moira gave a nod to the driving man who couldn't see her. "Who gave you the right to be happy again you fiend in human flesh? You failed to heed my warnings. The Symphony of Jericho Maestro's Lament shall be played again. Last time it was those who loved you. This time; watch as you are helpless to do anything. The 1st Movement has already begun. The Conductor," she read in a shaky voice. The name sounded vaguely familiar. Her anger peaked.

"Little Moira, are you okay?" Staul asked.

"How dare he call my brother a fiend and threaten him!" she exclaimed angrily. "Who does this conductor think he is? Who is he to say whether or not someone is allowed to be happy or not?"

Staul jumped at the sounds of her yelling. "Calm yourself, he replied with a slightly more intense intonation.

The girl stopped her rant. "Sorry, Mr. Dante, you know I have a hard time controlling my anger when people say mean things about my brother."

"I do know. Your anger is understandable but in this situation, your anger won't achieve anything," he admonished.

"You are right like always…" she went silent for a few seconds. "I will try to calm down."

"I'm here, Moira. Unlock the door for me," he said as he left his truck.

Moira rushed over and opened the door.

Staul tried catching his breath a bit. "I'm glad you are slightly calmer now. Let's focus on your brother's condition. Isn't that why you called me?"

Moira pursed her lips. "You're right."

Staul closed the door behind him and pulled out his flashlight. He lifted Jericho's head and s.h.i.+ned the light into his eyes. They dilated. "He isn't in shock. It's more like he is stuck in his own mind and can't perceive the world."

Moira started to lightly cry as her worry and anger collapsed. "Then what do we do? I haven't ever seen my brother get like this before."

Staul sighed. "I have seen people like this before." He walked over to the kitchen. "What we need to do is disrupt the reality his subconscious showing him."

"You sound a lot like my friend Alexander with the way you word things," she said as she wiped her tears. "How do we go about disrupting that?"

Staul opened the fridge. "Smell," he replied as he pulled out a small container of leftovers and reheated them. "I used to be a clinical therapist in my younger years. Seeing patients like this wasn't unheard of."

"Smell?" she asked back.

Staul gave a nod. "For every sense except smell, there is a filter between the receptors and the brain. Those filters are most likely what is causing him to be unresponsive right now." He pulled out the dish of food.

"That's strange. I hope it works."

He brought the small dish of hot food over to Jericho's nose. "The sense of smell will reach him even if he doesn't want to face reality right now."

"Why doesn't smell have a filter like the rest?" she inquired.

Staul chuckled as Jericho started to stir. "I'm not sure myself. But as you can see, it's working."

***

Shatter!

Jericho jolted from his bed and entered his living room. A chill and fog entered the house. The man s.h.i.+vered. "Darn it, now I have to fix the window."

The chilly autumn air whistled through the broken gla.s.s. A rock wrapped in paper and the fragments of his shattered front room window rested on the laminate floor.

Jericho carefully picked up the rock and removed the paper. "Who would do such a petty crime? Even with my recent alb.u.m sales, windows are expensive to replace," he mumbled as he read the note.

... -The Conductor-

Jericho crumpled the edge of the note as he clenched his jaw. "No, this is exactly why I set the rules I did. Why I told..." His strength left him. He slumped lifelessly to the floor. The paper shook in his trembling hands. The world went dark as Jericho felt like he was being pulled into an abyss.
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When Jericho opened his eyes he found himself in a barely lit underground cavern. An electric guitar, a stool, and a microphone rested by his feet. Every sound echoed like a resonance chamber. Jericho sat down, picked up the instrument, closed his eyes and plucked the strings of his electric guitar. His voice roared in agony as he clenched his vocal chords.

♪ h.e.l.lo Unknown; your visits are not acceptable. Why have you come so unexpectedly? I did not invite you to the table! What do you expect me to see? You have made my heart unstable. Why must you take these things from me? ♫

Jericho's screaming was interrupted by the sound of clapping. "*Bravo! You are finally awake,*" his own voice spoke in a dignified yet guttural language behind him.

Jericho turned to face a shadow that shared his appearance with a scowl. "Gathlau, why have you brought me here?" he asked in English.

"*I didn't bring you here. You ran here to seek comfort. Is this dark cavern not our happy place when it is more lit? I came to find you because you turned out the lights when you came in. Despite what you think, I don't like it when this place gets dark.*" Gathlau pointed to the dark corner Jericho's was sitting in. "*So, are you going to keep sniveling in the corner or are you going to accept my help? I should say that in a more proper way. Are you going to keep hiding here or are we going to go face the situation together? We are the same person. You know that, Jericho Gathlau Larson.*"

Jericho shook his head. "No, we are not. Because you exist, all of these bad things have happened to those I love."

"*You mean those we love. I feel the same pain, Jericho. But you have always been pa.s.sive and unwilling to see past our pain.*" the shadowy Jericho replied.

Jericho scoffed. "You love them? Don't make me laugh."

Gathlau laughed. "*You just made me laugh. You made me really happy when you relied on our courage to save the best younger sister. You needed my resolve. I know I show up when you get angry and violent but you know you wouldn't be half the man you are without me.*"

Jericho frowned. "How can you call yourself a man?"

"*You have a point, but you also wrong. I just make you a better man. Like Grandfather said. I do not make you any lesser than others. Besides, I should be thanking as well. So thank you.*"

Jericho's frown turned into a fierce scowl. "What are you thanking me for?"

"*You ignored grandfather's warnings. What was it that he said? Oh, yes. Until you can embrace yourself, it is best to avoid playing virtual reality games.*" He took a deep breath in through the nose. "*Ah, it seems Moira is warming up the leftovers. You probably just left our body sitting there and ran off here. You know she only warms up leftovers when you have forgotten to cook breakfast. So what will you do, Jericho?*" the shadowy figure inquired. "*Are you going to sit there and continue to worry our sister or are you going accept my hand and go back out there?*" Gathlau stretched out his heavy hand. "*I know right now you are not strong enough to go out there on your own but I can be with you. Moira would be less worried if you came with me.*"

Jericho sighed. "You know I can't accept your hand. You are the reason I ran here in the first place."

Gathlau sighed at the old argument. "*Well, until you are ready to come back out, I for one am not going to let our sister worry about us. Just like normal; I'll go out until you are ready to return.*" He turned to walk out.

"Wait! Don't go out there!" Jericho shouted.

The shadow turned around. "*Don't worry, I know the rules. We can't let her know the truth, right? Get stronger, Jericho. Come face reality as soon as you are ready,*" he replied as he vanished from the dark cavern. "*You know she worries more when you aren't strong enough to face reality, no matter how undesirable.*"

"But! Well, if it is only the surface I guess that is fine…"

The other Jericho laughed once again. "*Indeed, I don't like it either. You only send me out there to face the hard things in your life—alone. You know facing these things wouldn't be half so difficult if you accepted the fact that we are the same person and came with me.*"

"You…"

"*I know, I know; I already said that but still it has been six years since you ousted us. You know that we are not to blame for the choices of others. Hasn't this gone on long enough?*"

Jericho frowned.

"*I'll keep waiting for you to be ready to face that truth. Just remember to turn on the light when you come back out. Like I said, I don't like our happy place being dark.*"

"When I am ready…" Jericho muttered. "How in the world do I get stronger?"

"*Truly an excellent question; you know the answer, you just don't like it,*" the other Jericho voiced before fading completely.

"Gone again; I'll come out soon Moira. Just let me take this time to steel my nerves. I won't leave him out there for long. I promise."

Another figure stood quietly in the shadows of his mind and watched as Jericho resumed screaming into the microphone.