Stuck in the Game (Dream State)

Noah promised himself he would never play the world’s most popular MMORPG—the Dream State. He’d already lost too many friends to the addictive virtual world. But after a devastating car crash leaves Noah paralyzed, he’s forced inside the game. The Dream State not only provides a connection with the outside world but also keeps his brain awake long enough for his body to heal. Dying in the game, however, could send Noah into a coma forever. To stay safe, he must remain in the lower levels, far away from the most dangerous monsters and players. Meanwhile, doctors grow concerned when Noah’s girlfriend, Sue—who also sustained serious injuries in the crash—seemingly fails to connect to the game. When a mysterious avatar suggests to Noah that the last remnants of Sue’s consciousness are being held prisoner in the highest level, Noah decides to risk everything to save her.  Leaving the safety of the lower levels, Noah rises through the ranks and enters the most dangerous part of the game, allying with high-level players and unearthing clues to a sinister plot along the way. Now top players from across the world are hunting him. With his life on the line, can Noah save Sue and uncover the mystery?

Apollos Thorne, author of Codename: Freedom and Underworld: Level Up or Die!

"An interesting new take on a classic concept and one of the few young adult-friendly LitRPGs out there. In Stuck in the Game, things are not what they seem!"

Paul Mannering, President of SpecFicNZ, author of Engines of Empathy

"Fans of LitRPG and video games need to be reading Christopher Keene."

Harmon Cooper, author of The Feedback Loop series, Fantasy Online series, and The Last Warrior of Unigaea trilogy

“Keene’s Stuck in the Game is a fun romp through a great fantasy world. The premise is unique, the pacing superb, the action tight. The pages turn themselves!”

Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.

Chapter 1 Dream Engine I didn’t know how long I had been floating in the darkness. My body twitched as waves of anxiety and exhilaration crashed over me, drowning me. When the tides of emotion finally receded, my heartbeat calmed and I floated once more, trying to gain a sense of my surroundings. A speck of light appeared before me, glowing like the first glimpse of a sunrise after a starless night. The white radiance grew until the circle was as wide as I was tall. As bright as the light was, my eyes seemed to have already adjusted to it. Three smaller lights appeared around the circle, forming words I couldn’t quite make out until I gave them my full attention. Of the three lights, ‘New Game’ glowed the brightest. The other two read ‘Continue’ and ‘Settings.’ I had played enough games to recognize a gaming menu when I saw one. “New Game?” The sound of my voice was jarring after the silence. The icon flashed and the words were sucked into the circle of light, like being drawn into a whirlpool. I followed them soon after, my body stretching as the light engulfed me and a brief whine filled my ears. When the light faded, I was standing on a dirt pathway surrounded by the greenest field of grass I had ever seen, complete with daisies and dandelions. I expected to smell the grass, but when I sniffed the air, I couldn’t identify a single distinguishable scent. My sniff seemed to be the loudest noise around. Everything from the clouds in the azure sky to the distant trees had the look of a CGI wallpaper; every object had been so neatly arranged that it only highlighted how unnatural it all was. My eyebrows knitted together in confusion. How did I end up in a Dream Game? I touched the dirt of the pathway, feeling its rough texture under my fingertips. It felt too real, if such a sensation was possible. The edges of the track were clean cut despite the high grass surrounding it. I saw a crossroads in the distance and ahead of me on the side of the pathway was a wooden sign pegged into the grass. I walked forward, details of the environment far away becoming clearer with every step, as though I had suddenly become near-sighted. When I reached the crossroads, the sign came into focus, too. It had the word ‘Tutorial’ carved into it in block lettering. Under the etching was a map of a diamond-shaped path. At each corner of the diamond was a title. The eastern point was called ‘Menus,’ the northern point was called ‘Actions,’ the western point was called ‘Community,’ and the southern point had a red box with ‘You are here!’ written in it. “Really?” I murmured, jumping when my voice echoed. Considering I had no clue where I was, I guessed that the direction marked ‘Community’ would be my safest bet for finding answers. I ran down the dirt pathway, taking a left at the crossroad. Less than a few yards past the Y-junction, an animated circle appeared before me, continuously filling up and emptying with blue liquid.Huh . . . it’s a loading icon. I heard the chirping sound of a successful Internet connection. Five bars rose and then vanished only to be replaced with a black window that had three blank spaces for a ‘Username,’ ‘Password,’ and ‘Email.’ I stared blankly at the window for a moment before deciding to just go along with whatever trick the universe was playing on me. I said, “Email,” and the word began to glow. I verbally spelled out my email and password. Both were accepted, but when I tried to create a username, it rejected it. Each time I tried a new name the window would shake and the words ‘Existing username. Try something else.’ would appear in a red box above it. I wasn’t surprised. So many Dream State accounts had been created in the past few years that it was almost impossible to find one without numbers or alternative letters. After a few unsuccessful attempts, the system finally accepted ‘NotThatNoah.’ Now that I was registered, a chat window appeared, and an invitation window immediately popped up on top of it. I was surprised to see my mother’s name followed by three random numbers. I didn’t hesitate to accept. “Noah?” My mother’s voice rang out in my head, wracked with worry. “Noah, how are you?” “I feel … fine.” I moved my head and the window followed my vision. “What’s going on? Why am I in a Dream Game?” “Oh dear . . . you were in a car accident.”Car accident? The words seemed foreign, disconnected. A buzzing apprehension fluttered in the back of my mind. “Your brain was damaged during the crash. The doctor says your body is now fully paralyzed.”Paralyzed. The weight behind her words hit me in a rush and everything suddenly made sense. My body, which wasn’t really a body at all, froze, and my anxiety returned with a vengeance. The panic felt like my heart had just dropped into my stomach. “In a strange way, it’s a little funny,” she continued. “After all of those awful things being said about it online and all the times your father and I told you not to try it, the Dream Engine is the only thing that has the wetware interface that would allow us to talk to you.” My mother continued to talk but her voice started to sound farther and farther away. “Noah? Don’t panic, it’s okay! Everything’s going to be fine . . .” With every word her voice became more distant until I barely heard her at all.   *** Sue and I had stood in David’s dark, BO-smelling room for half an hour before I realized he wasn’t going to wake himself out of his game. Or maybe he couldn’t. I kicked his bed and screamed at him in frustration. He was so far under that his only response was to grunt and roll over. During high school, I’d enjoyed playing MMO games as much as David and Brock, the third musketeer of our little group of friends. Sue had always been annoyed when the three of us would spend too much time on our computers. When Brock started playing the new Dream Engine, or the ‘harder stuff’ as we called it back then, we were shocked by how addicted he became to it. By then Sue and I were going out, and, after seeing how the game had turned Brock into a recluse, we were both completely against being sucked into it.   Schizophrenia, narcolepsy, drug overdoses, there were a myriad of boogeyman-like risks being rumored about online to scare the parents of any gamer who might have considered buying the Dream Engine. Were any of these true? Probably not, but I wasn’t going to risk it. Being skeptical of the connection between smoking and lung cancer didn’t help those who died from it. Now that David was getting into Dream Games as well, the game had stripped me of my best friends. Sue’s dark hair whipped around as she made for the door. Frustrated, I stole a bottle of soda from his bedside table. From the way two of them were left out, I’d assumed one was for me anyway. As I left, I gulped it down and then threw the bottle into the recycling bin outside. I followed Sue out to my car. She was sitting in the passenger’s seat, eager to leave, frowning at the state we had found David in. We took off down the back road, heading for the highway. “If they think a game is more important than spending time with you then you’re better off not being friends with them,” she said as we stopped at a red light. It was getting darker and beginning to rain, the approaching night close on the heels of the overcast clouds. I turned on my lights. “Neither of us have tried it before so we don’t really know what it’s like for them,” I said. “Maybe it’s just that fun?” She snorted, and I didn’t know what sounded less attractive, that or the car horn going off behind me a second after the light turned green. “They could at least do it in moderation.” The impatient driver who beeped at me continued to ride my tail even as I turned my car onto the highway. His lights were on high beam, so I could barely see anything in my rearview mirror. I squinted, trying to clear my vision. “I mean . . . it’s their choice how they spend their life, no matter how we feel about it.” I didn’t know why I was defending them. I was just as against their kind of gaming lifestyle as she was. Sue crossed her arms, screwing up her mousy face. “Still, I would never say a life where you have to take mind-altering drugs to have a good time is a good life. Didn’t Brock tell you that a bunch of people died from overdosing on DSD?” “I’m not sure how seriously we should take his story.” I shook my head roughly, but not because I was disagreeing with her. A sudden weariness was wrapping itself around me like a warm blanket, making my eyelids droop. “The guy has . . .” I yawned. “Watched a few too many conspiracy videos. Besides, I think he likes you, and he knows that if he talks about DSD, you’ll listen.” “Well, Brock said he’s going to mail me the video evidence on a flash drive today. It should really add weight to my petition to get DSD out of stores and—” She was interrupted by another roar of the horn from the car behind us. It jolted me from my stupor. Sue turned in her seat and flipped him off. “What’s your problem, huh?”That’s . . . a very good . . . question. I couldn’t focus on the road. With a quick glance through the rain-streaked windscreen to check for lights in the darkness, I eased on the brake to take a left off the highway. I had to pull over and take a rest before I caused an accident. Time skipped forward, and I heard Sue scream, “Noah, stop!” I jolted up just in time to see that there were lights ahead of me and that they were coming straight for us. I didn’t have time to wonder why I hadn’t seen them before. I floored the accelerator, hoping to cut past them. I wasn’t fast enough. A truck slammed into my car. The sound of shattering glass and folding metal overpowered the car horns as we spun from the impact.  ***  I opened my eyes again. Despite the beautiful blue sky above me, this was a nightmare that I couldn’t wake up from. My mother’s frantic voice came back to me. “Are you hearing what I’m saying, Noah? You won’t be able to move your body. Keeping you in the game is the only way you’ll be able to communicate with anyone. Do you understand?” “A-are you telling me that the only way I can have contact with the outside world is to stay in here?” My trembling voice echoed back at me. “I’m sorry, dear. The doctor says your brain will heal but that it will take some time. You’ll have to bear with this system to communicate with us until then. Listen Noah, it could be a lot worse. You—” “What about Sue? Is she okay?” She didn’t seem to want to answer me. Her silence told me more than any words she might have spoken. “She didn’t make it, did she?” “She’s in critical condition but her brain was so damaged that the doctors don’t think she’s going to pull through.” My anxiety returned with a throbbing ache that, even in this artificial world, made my vision blur. I would have vomited if the game had allowed it. I might never see Sue again, never talk to her or touch her. All of the dreams we’d had together might never come true. “No . . . no!” I grabbed my head that wasn’t real in a world that wasn’t real and shook it roughly. “I’m such an idiot!” My mother attempted to console me, but it was drowned out in the memory that my last words to Sue were in defense of the Dream Games. My situation brought with it a cruel irony.

About the Author

Growing up in the small town of Timaru, New Zealand, Christopher Keene broke the family trend of becoming an accountant by becoming a writer instead. While studying for his Bachelor of Arts in English Literature from the University of Canterbury, he took the school’s creative writing course in the hopes of someday seeing his own book on the shelf in his favorite bookstores. In his spare time, he writes a blog to share his love of the fantasy and science fiction genres in novels, films, comics, games, and anime (fantasyandanime.wordpress.com).

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