A pilgrimage of sorts

Inspired by a branch over in the Unending BE Addventure (https://addventure.bearchive.com/~addventure/game1/docs/1450/1450406.html) to which I’ve contributed a number of chapters. A grey rainy drizzle starts the day as John Doe is awoken for the third time so far by his alarm. Rolling over, he slaps his hand around aimlessly until the noise finally stops. Pushing himself up slightly, eyes reluctantly open, he sees that it’s now 8:20am and he will be late for work if he waits any longer to finally get out of bed. With a big yawn, stretching both arms up above his head, John swings around and lands with a rough thud on the thinly carpeted floor of his ramshackle house in the outer suburbs. Looking around sullenly, he reflects briefly on his situation. 25 years old, working in the same dead end retail job he’s had since he graduated from high school, his apartment is sparsely furnished with the cheapest furniture he could find. Walking over to the bathroom sink to prepare for the day, he sighs at his reflection, “another day, another dollar”. It was his daily mantra to acknowledge his situation and with a wry grin, he noted that it had kept him going this long. John was halfway through squeezing out a thin line of toothpaste to brush his teeth, mentally figuring out how to juggle buying a fresh tube around his upcoming rent until his next pay came through when he was interrupted by a knock at the door. Confused as to who could be paying him a visit at this time, and certainly not having had the funds to purchase anything delivered recently. John figured it was probably something being delivered to the wrong address. Trying to be a good neighbour, he rushed to the door, hoping to stop the mailman from making a wrong delivery. “Wait!” he yelled out as he swung the door open ready to explain the situation. To his incredulous surprise, nobody was there, just a small brown box left atop his doormat. Not immediately seeing a label on the box, John brought it inside to examine it. Setting it down on his table, spinning it every which way, there was no clue as to who it was intended for. Curiosity getting the better of him, he grabbed a knife and sliced through the tape sealing the lid shut. Inside, lying amongst a pile of shredded newspaper was an unusual looking device. No more than two inches long, cylindrical and with a repeating metallic pattern crisscrossing its surface, it was unlike anything he had ever seen before. Figuring that there must be some instructions left with the device, he rummaged around through the newspaper shavings again, finding a crinkled note. The instructions seemed pretty simple, hold the device and imagine a universe to find yourself transported there as an all-powerful deity. It seemed that whoever had sent the device to you had even included some suggestions, fictional worlds, our universe in a different time, and even make your own universe. The possibilities were endless. A couple of warnings were also included, although John figured he didn’t need to take much note of these. The device will vanish once used, only returning should you return to this universe (“yeah right” John thought, “no chance I come back to this life”), as you won’t have the device once you use it, you’ll need to use your powers to return home. Some failsafes had been put in place to protect you from various forms of harm or from getting trapped, but the note warns that the device is a one-of-a-kind test version so may have some bugs not yet fully worked out. Tossing the note over his shoulder, John quickly dons a simple pair of jeans and a t-shirt, clutching the device in his hand he imagines a universe to rule over.

Updated on Sep 12, 2024 by Jim_jones
Created on Aug 16, 2024 by Jim_jones