Forum adverts like this one are shown to any user who is not logged in. Join us by filling out a tiny 3 field form and you will get your own, free, dakka user account which gives a good range of benefits to you: No adverts like this in the forums anymore. Times and dates in your local timezone. Full tracking of what you have read so you can skip to your first unread post, easily see what has changed since you last logged in, and easily see what is new at a glance. Email notifications for threads you want to watch closely. Being a part of the oldest wargaming community on the net. If you are already a member then feel free to login now.

This isn't quite Warhammer 'fluff', but I liked them.

‘Play God’

He laughed hysterically as he punched the order into his keyboard, “finish him off”. The man, his flesh torn from his body, screamed as his assailant plunged a knife into his heart. Being a secretary at a law firm, Gary didn’t know a lot about computer games but this one was so realistic it was like anyone could play it. He looked at the cover of the game with a smile, eyes scanning over a detailed picture of the earth with an eye above it. “Play God”, he thought to himself, what an apt name, he sure felt like god - controlling lives within the game. Since buying the game from a pawn broker in Adelaide just a week ago, he had spent far too long playing it already but he couldn’t help himself; he was addicted. It started with just observing, watching people interact, learning secrets that seemed so real, everything seemed so real. Things progressed and he began to interact, first with the environment be it stirring up the wind or growing a tree. Soon he began to focus on people, deftly manipulating their minds, controlling their instincts, impulses, thoughts, actions, their very lives. It was only a matter of time before he began to abuse his power, “it’s just a game” he reasoned to himself. In the head of a mechanic from Finland, he tweaked and prodded, whispered in his ear until he had his mind. Before he knew it he had a man tied to a bed in a rundown motel, his mechanic slicing the skin from his body with a hunting knife. He felt so powerful, he felt like god.
Gary stretched out on the sofa; he had just gotten home from a lengthy day of work and was waiting for his computer to boot. He flicked the TV on, a small-scale news program was running with news no one really cares about. Gary wasn’t interested. A reporter was talking in that irritating voice all reporters use. Images of some old motel with police all around flashed on the screen with a scrolling footnote saying “Murder in Helsinki”. Suddenly Gary was interested, “no way” he whispered to himself. “The accused, an honest mechanic with no criminal or medical history, claimed that he was under some sort of ‘possession’ and was being controlled by voices in his head, police are investigating the case but it seems clean cut”. “What a coincidence” Gary laughed to himself, almost convinced that he hadn’t just killed a man.




His eyes were tired from staring at the screen, had he really been playing for 6 hours? It seemed like but a few. Ever since the Finland incident, Gary had decided to play it safe. For the last hour, he had been playing with a golden retriever who lived in New York with a 27 year old woman. Parched, he left to get a glass of water, intent on retiring to bed soon. When he returned to the computer he was horrified to see the dog on his owner’s bed with its jaw on her throat. He desperately sent orders to the dog, but none of them held; it was out of his control. He was helpless as he watched a 27 year old banker being mauled in her sleep by her family pet. Anger took over, he was ‘God’, how dare he lose control of his world? This was unacceptable. With fiery revenge he levelled an apartment block a few streets over with relentless lightning bolts. The anger wore thin and his head cleared, doubt assailed his conscience. Was it real? He closed the game and checked the internet, no breaking news, no reports of serial lightning strikes. He relaxed, maybe it was just a strange coincidence. Gary shut down his computer and went to bed, his mind at ease.
“You’d better lift your game boyo”. Gary hated his boss, he’d always treated him like a child when he was 25. He had hardly slept in a week and was feeling like hell, it was understandable that his boss wasn’t particularly happy with him. After an uneventful day at work with his boss riding him the whole time, Gary went home wishing he could get just a little bit of revenge. At home on his computer, Gary debated with himself. Convinced that he could easily get away with it, Gary decided to find his boss in the game, after all it isn’t real. Benjamin, his boss was sitting in his office at work reading over some papers, alone. Gary had an idea, it would be perfect if he could use himself in the game to deal with his boss. Gary found himself easy to manipulate, he was getting better and better at ‘Playing God’. He showed up in his boss’s office with a crow bar from the garage and a dark look on his face. “What are you doing Gary? You aren’t supposed to be here!” Gary stalked across the room and held the end of the crowbar to Benjamin’s throat. “I’m sick of you treating me like nothing”, he shouted. “Don’t do this Gary” he pleaded. Gary laughed psychotically and ripped across Benjamin’s face with the crowbar and didn’t stop until it was a bloody mess. In a panic, Gary drove home leaving security alarms blaring behind him, laughing all the way. Back in his apartment, the Gary in the game was struck by the reality of the crime he committed. His heart stopped beating.




Driving to work the next day, Gary switched on the radio and his heart skipped a beat. “An apartment building was struck 27 times by lightening from clear skies, 39 people have died with none injured” the male voice verbalised. “It’s real” Gary breathed in terror. Sweating all the way to work, he arrived to find police cars surrounding the firm. Realising that the police could be looking for someone of his description, Gary sped home. The full realisation of what he had done hit him, 30 people, all dead, all him. Then it stuck him, he died in the game. Frantically searching for a way to save his own life, it suddenly occurred to him.
Detective Branson led the way into the 3rd story apartment, believed to belong to the main suspect. Room by room was cleared until he stumbled into the study. A man was sitting in the computer chair with his head on the desk. “He’s dead” Branson muttered to himself upon checking the man’s pulse. On the desk in front of him were the fragments of a broken CD. “Better find out what’s on here” he muttered.


hope sombody likes this.