Immersion

“Fuck, fuck, fuck...fuckkkkkkkkk!!!”

The four letter expletive was the only adequate verbiage to summarize Jordan’s instant regret while his phone swallowed him whole. Scanning ones fully naked body sounds as invasive a demand as a smartphone app could possibly require, the subsequent digital absorption and transportation of Jordan’s consciousness managed to transcend that demand by miles.

Jordan instantaneously reappeared seated inside a of a digital void. The only matter to fill this void was a circular mahogany table topped with emerald felt, four matching mahogany chairs placed in unnatural symmetry around the round surface, and four seated occupants, one of whom was Jordan.

To his left sat a full figured woman with a darker complexion. Her sky blue eyes were both piercing and enchanting, and almost drew the focus away from her generous bust. The tight blue and white striped blouse she adorned seemed to struggle in its job to contain her amble bosom. Whether form or function necessitated the top few buttons be disconnected from their partnered holes, the result was a healthy amount of cleavage to draw eyes that lacked willpower. The table obscured Jordan’s vision of the rest of her form, but he recognized her as Weaver Banks. She was Thorsblood’s star volleyball player and a dedicated student athlete. They shared a few classes, but other than a couple of group assignments and guilty glances at her athletic curves, he had few interactions with her.

Dead ahead of Jordan was a lifelong frienemy of his: Michael Ragsteiczenbek, though everyone just called him Rags. They were the type of friends whose mothers arranged play dates for them about once a month and believed them to be the best of friends. In reality their “friendship” was based on competition and one-upsmanship. Who could shoot milk out of their eyes the fastest in elementary school turned into who caught the most touchdown passes in middle school turned into who had the hottest girlfriend in high school. Now that they were both at TA, anything and everything was on the table in their juvenile and unrelenting competitions. Behind the bickering and rivalry was a brotherly love that had expressed itself on the rare occasions where compassion prevailed over pride.

Jordan and Rags were often mistaken for siblings. Both of them stood tall with lean but muscular forms. Fair skin revealed their European descent and light freckles adorned Jordan’s body. With well formed symmetrical features and classically handsome faces, their stark difference in appearance was what topped their heads. Rags had soft sandy blonde hair, finger brushed back to keep it out of his face, while Jordan had his dark hair kept at an almost military level of shortness, save an extra inch or two on the top.

The remaining player of the game was a squirrelly brunette who looked like a librarian in training. Slender hips and pert breasts were both hidden by modest garments and a shy posture. With shoulder length brown locks and soft, cute features, the girl exuded innocence. Jordan had been in a lab group one time with her, and had to rack his brain to recall her name was Grayson Westlove. He was shocked that she had not only received an invitation but had accepted it.

The most alarming feature of the void, was Jordan’s distinct lack of a voice. It went beyond no words coming out of his mouth to the inability to open or move his mouth at all. In fact, he was not able to control any of his body, save his eyes and his thoughts. The expression on the other three players’ faces was a stoic and silent one, which Jordan deduced he was projecting as well. Moments after arriving and digesting his situation, a voice that could only be described as neutral in every way spoke to the group.

“Hello and welcome to The Grounds. I am your moderator, here to clarify, inform, and keep the Game running smoothly. You will be brought inside The Grounds anytime a decision or interaction between players of the game is necessary. While time never truly stops in the universe, interactions within The Grounds happen at the speed of electrons. Thus it will be virtually unnoticeable to the outside world that your consciousness was transported here while you play the Game. While you are able to perceive and think on any interactions taking place in The Grounds, you will only be able to take action or speak when it is required of you. Any questions or clarifications on rules of the Game need only be thought in order to be answered by the moderator.”

“With that, we will begin the first round. Each player is allowed the standard allotment of three truths. As per the default, the round will end once two players use all three truths. Punishment for refusal during this round shall be loss of one of the allowed truths as well as the removal of a random article of clothing. There is one award that is available to be earned by any of the four players during this round of play. To receive the award and it’s benefit, the player must finish the round without having refused any challenge. Permitting no queries, the round will start with Weaver. Weaver, please verbally announce who you would like to challenge first out of your three opponents and issue your challenge.”

Even though the extent of his current situation was so far beyond any event in his 19 years on this planet that his only reaction should be panic, Jordan was amazingly calm. He processed all the information and anxiously anticipated who would be challenged first. Then he saw the finger pointed at him and heard the challenge she uttered.