GL Projects
He lunged for the power cord, but the screen flashed a single line of text in the WWE font:
A character creator screen popped up, but it wasn't empty. There was a wrestler already there—a grey-skinned, featureless mannequin named Its stats were all maxed out at 99. Before Mark could react, the game forced him into a Hell in a Cell match.
The room went cold. On the screen, the virtual version of himself was pinned. The referee’s hand hit the mat: One. Two.
As the third count echoed through his speakers, the monitors went black. In the reflection of the glass, Mark didn't see himself anymore. He saw a grey, featureless mannequin sitting in his chair, waiting for the next person to click the link.
He wasn't playing as a superstar; the game had pulled his webcam feed and mapped his own face onto a scrawny, 60-overall jobber. Every time "The Seeder" landed a punch in the game, Mark felt a dull, thudding pressure in his own chest. Every slam against the steel cage made his bedroom walls rattle.