It’s Christmas day. My ps3 has been set up and I’m ready to play. The console is sleek, dark, sophisticated, the pinnacle of human technology. I pick up the controller. It’s slim, smooth; it feels natural, not like those chunky oversized Xbox controllers. I’m ready for the gaming experience.
I grab the game case, it’s limited edition, metal, rare and it’s all mine. I open it, pull out the disk and put it in the console. I swiftly navigate the menu while admiring the excellent graphics. I set myself up for an online multiplayer death match ready to test my yet untested skills. I psyche myself up for the battle and press X. the loading screen appears, the only thing separating me from my destiny, I’m ready.
Here I am. My pulse rifle in my hands and the dim light of my flashlight illuminating the gloomy tunnels of the alien hive. I’m a marine, the best of the best. I hear the distinctive hiss of a xenomorph and I go in for the kill. I navigate the labyrinthine tunnels like a pro. My motion detector senses something up ahead. It’s close. I scan the shadows, checking every surface that could conceal the xenomorph. My light falls on a dark shape. I barely have time to notice it before it pounces me. I mash the buttons fighting for my life. I wrestle the xenomorph off me and open fire. It tries to run but it isn’t fast enough to escape me. After a second or two of pulse rifle fire, it’s dead. I stand over it’s dead body. This is it my first kill. I feel like a gaming master, unaware of the other foe approaching me from behind. A pair of blades stab through my chest from behind. I stare at them in disbelief ‘how can this be?’ I fall to the ground, dead. I am forced to wait five seconds to respawn. My killer is still out there and I will have my revenge.
Over time I transformed my natural talent into true skill. I’ve made so many kills that I’ve lost count of them. My only regret is that I was unable to avenge my first death on that Christmas day long ago
I grab the game case, it’s limited edition, metal, rare and it’s all mine. I open it, pull out the disk and put it in the console. I swiftly navigate the menu while admiring the excellent graphics. I set myself up for an online multiplayer death match ready to test my yet untested skills. I psyche myself up for the battle and press X. the loading screen appears, the only thing separating me from my destiny, I’m ready.
Here I am. My pulse rifle in my hands and the dim light of my flashlight illuminating the gloomy tunnels of the alien hive. I’m a marine, the best of the best. I hear the distinctive hiss of a xenomorph and I go in for the kill. I navigate the labyrinthine tunnels like a pro. My motion detector senses something up ahead. It’s close. I scan the shadows, checking every surface that could conceal the xenomorph. My light falls on a dark shape. I barely have time to notice it before it pounces me. I mash the buttons fighting for my life. I wrestle the xenomorph off me and open fire. It tries to run but it isn’t fast enough to escape me. After a second or two of pulse rifle fire, it’s dead. I stand over it’s dead body. This is it my first kill. I feel like a gaming master, unaware of the other foe approaching me from behind. A pair of blades stab through my chest from behind. I stare at them in disbelief ‘how can this be?’ I fall to the ground, dead. I am forced to wait five seconds to respawn. My killer is still out there and I will have my revenge.
Over time I transformed my natural talent into true skill. I’ve made so many kills that I’ve lost count of them. My only regret is that I was unable to avenge my first death on that Christmas day long ago
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