Melinda.
Melinda, since this had all begun, had been counting the hours passing in her dream state, depressingly, now reaching the 'eleventh', as it was said, or perhaps more realistically and without all the dramatic fanfare, the chronologically seventh…
For the past two days, if they might have had the inclination or ability to do so, the nurses overseeing her bedridden body might have noted that she'd slept for no longer than an exact eight hours before her consciousness was wrenched from the sunless realm.
An essentially meaningless anomaly for most, to be sure, but for her, the one who was living it, the one who was privy to the countdown timer sitting before her damned intangible eyes, Melinda couldn't help but wonder if it was something more to it.
And, as the counter slipped into the double digits, reading out fifty-nine minutes remaining, the young woman, conceivably for the first time, and spurred by a rapid onset of fear and distressed panic toward her own mortality, offered the small blue window in her purview its demanded time of day.
Mindy, pronouncing each word as though she still had a voice and letting every syllable sit in her thoughts while contemplating what the message truly meant.
"Congratulations on being chosen to ascend to godhood. Please complete the initialization process to finalize this transition. Time remaining until catastrophic failure and soul dissipation, fifty-eight minutes, thirty-nine seconds. Would you like to begin initialization? Yes? No?"
It was, perhaps, a small exposé into the current state of her mind that Melinda was, if not believing what the window was implying, then at least willing to play ball.
To roll the dice with the concept and just really hope this would all lead to—well, anything!
She was desperate… caught between the possibility of freedom and the very real chance that her parents might just back down from their decision. Love and irrationality winning the day in a manner that would see her banished to the misery of unending sensory-deprived torture…
She wasn't really one to subscribe to the particular genre of fantasy-based games and assorted media that so loved to employ this very plot device in their stories, but when the alternative was so gruesomely despairing, Melinda could hardly pass the opportunity by.
And that was precisely what this was, an opportunity.
One that was alluding to the idea that she was to ascend and become some sort of 'deity', absurd as the prospect was.
But, then again, real or nothing more than the last dying figment of her imagination, wasn't anything, anything at all, better than this?
"I sure hope it is…" The woman whispered to herself, and, in spite of every logical synapse inside of her likely almost deceased, bright pink and lumpy, fatty brain, Melinda mentally reached out and selected yes within the glowing box.
With held breath and uncertain, expectant anticipation, the young woman waited for the screen to resolve itself!
Waited for something—fantastical.
For a light show or giant boom!
Maybe some angel to come down and greet her, anything that would give her an iota of hope that she wasn't totally screwed here…
Yet, what she got was the box seeming to fade away after she hesitantly accepted the prompt, only for it to return, without ceremony, but a single moment later, though this time arriving with a new but utterly baffling directive that left her just sitting there, stymied.
"Please design your power—what!Seriously?" She accused, all but glaring at the damned thing! "You're not gonna offer anything else? No, pfft, thrown bone or suggestions? No guidelines, explanations… or help? Just—create your godly power and kindly fuck off?"
Melinda was furious!
Though toward exactly what, she couldn't honestly say. Sure, the rather Mickey Mouse approach to the whole affair had the current focus of her vexation, but, in truth, a distant and observant part of the girl knew it was but a mere catalyst for her welling frustrations.
She clacked her nonexistent tongue at the damned box, imagining crossing her arms and, for everything else, practically ready to hiss at the singular line of text like a rowdy alley cat.
"Just imagine your power, Mindy; we promise, it was inside of you this whole time—Mindy! What a load of BS… No! You know what? I'm outright saying it here, this is utterly useless advice! Who made this shit? Some elder-god equivalent of a blitzed-out teenager in his mom's basement? An intern who got the first job outside of getting coffee for people who actually knew what they were doing?
"There are no explanations, no examples or guidelines! Nothing but that fucking timer, and that isn't doing anything but flaring my freaking anxiety. And! And," She continued, far beyond the point of stopping herself. "I don't even have anxiety! That's how bad this whole shitshow is! You've literally managed to give me a new condition to deal with; all the while, I'm pretty sure that I'm not even alive anymore!"
Frowning as she seethed, the girl stared at the window with open contempt, glaring at the damned thing as though that might change something about it, make it offer her a semblance beyond such a ridiculous bare-bones package…
"You know who had the right idea in these situations?" she rambled, flowing straight into another fit of righteous indignation, subconsciously allowing her mind to finally vent the insane chaos that was her life. "Video games. That's right, I said it. The cardinal sin of good fantasy!
"RPGs!
"Letting people quantify and choose whatever the hell they want to! Want to look hotter in that dress and lose a few pounds? Charisma! Wanna out-bench-press all the gym bros without juice and back acne? Strength and endurance!
"But fuck it! Why not toss 'skills' and 'talents' into the mix of it? Titles granting mystical powers, actual freaking explanations for everything under the sun! You know, standard stuff, infor-fucking-mation!"
Fuming and all but wishing she could clap her hands at the universe as she spoke, Mindy nevertheless caught her nonexistent breath after finding a likely needed release…
Then, she hesitated and considered what she'd just said. Mulling it over for a few moments before she slowly nodded…
"Actually, yeah, I mean, sure, it's kinda overdone, but… having the ability to level up and have something like your own virtual assistant by way of an interface would be—sort of amazing for most people…"
Admittedly, Melinda had played a lot of video games in her day. It came with the territory when one had few friends and fewer inclinations to make them. Though not all of them would be considered that interesting for most who enjoyed more rousing and fast-paced action…
Mindy, somewhat embarrassingly, had always been something of a 'Sims' girl. It was her dark pleasure, creating imaginary people and having them live the most random or forcibly guided of lives…
She'd always found it fun how she could definitively know just how good one of her avatars was. How charming or impressive at cooking they would be, basking in the certainty of calculated risk management and streamlined effort versus reward.
Spend a few hours forcing your character to run on the treadmill? Gain a few easy points in the respective field of athletics. Take the time to learn how to play chess? Well, now you know where you statistically, perfectly stack up against the upper limit of success.
It had been a guilty secret of hers to play each and every iteration that had been released, working to buy every expansion pack, every overpriced bit of downloadable content, and exploring every conceivable exploit or avenue toward her goals.
Yet, by contrast, she wasn't obtuse to the bizarre appeal, given, of course, how fervently she'd rejected such concepts when others in 'real life' tried to do the same to her as she did to her Sims.
But that was why she'd called it as it was, her dirty, filthy, little skeleton in the cupboard.
That same understanding that, deep down, she was as hypocritical and awful as everyone else around her.
Honestly? It was sort of a concept about herself that, as a whole that she weirdly adored…
Yeah, Mindy knew she was a bit of a weird one, to be sure, a real oddball given the things she liked in life, but a person was who they were, and, at least, Mindy had only fucked with virtual people's lives rather than real ones—mostly…
It was a genuine joy to live so many existences in such a short span of time, if for nothing more than to reinforce and discover things she might be interested in pursuing within her real life.
That was why, before being diagnosed with the tumor, she'd ultimately decided to actively apply to schools in her senior year, seeking to further her education in the field of animal medicine.
Hoping, upon a time, to one day be a veterinarian who could save as many of the world's most precious little animals as she could reasonably manage…
A flawed fantasy, to be certain… After all, a veterinarian was, in the end, just another person trying to make a living to survive. But, in this rare case, her cynicism hadn't mattered, and she'd, much to the surprise of those around her, chased that dream for nearly two years before, well, before she'd gotten the news.
And while animal healing powers were, obviously, a reasonable avenue given her prior pursuits, Melinda had always been as interested, if not more, by the prospect of the challenge such a career could provide.
As stated, she'd been trying to plan out a path to travel during her time in the working world as an adult within modern society. Yes, the dream was present, but she hadn't lost sight of certain realities.
That being said, in the end, what she'd been picking had been, for lack of a better phrase, a job. One she thought she'd enjoy and, presumably, excel in, and, with just enough emotionally rewarding gooeyness to satisfy her inner and somewhat dormant 'good-Mindy', but a job was a job nevertheless.
Did she really want to use this opportunity, presumably a goof or otherwise, to become the goddess of all the tiny, cute things that roamed the world?
No, no, she didn't.
She, if given the choice, would want the ability to do as she wanted, not willingly leash herself and tether her existence to some sort of imagined cultish PETA nonsense. In fact, if anything, she'd likely enjoy existing as an entity not too far removed from herself as she played her favorite game.
Give the masses autonomy and the knowledge and tools to create the best versions of themselves while sitting back on her laurels and dispensing the occasional commandment or demand.
Maybe, order them to build a few temples in her name and smite any invaders or just the odd worshiper who didn't correctly venerate at the feet of her statue… Nothing 'major' or, technically, off-limits.
Nothing to remain on the table!
Yes, what she wanted was control. Nobody above her to tell her off or make demands, to be able to do as she pleased without others looking over her shoulder.
She wanted to be… well, maybe 'God' himself was a little too on the nose but, either way, was that alone enough?
Did she… maybe need to offer more or get more specific? Genuinely, as Melinda stared at the screen, she decided she really didn't know…
But, what was there to lose by trying to find out?