《Dust: A Romantic Apocalyptic LitRPG Novel》Blix: Dissociative Identity Disorder
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“Then there was this what?” Blix tried to force a growl, but Alf’s puppy eyes and cattle-licked hair made her want to kiss his widdle face and tuck him all snug-snug back to bed.
Then his eyes got even wider.
“What?” She combed back her hair with her fingers, but he didn’t seem to be looking at her. Casting a quick glance behind her, she waved a hand in front of his face. “And who’s Jane? An old girlfriend?”
“Can you hear her?” He struggled to a sitting position, eyes darting about their shelter like he was searching for ghosts.
“Hear what? Who’s Jane? What’s going on?” She thumped his chest, but couldn’t seem to get his attention.
“What do you mean play me? Where are you?” Alf asked the shadows to her right and then started digging through the pine needles.
“Are you trying to tell me you can’t see me?” Blix’s chest tightened. Something was all kinds of wrong. “Alf?”
He jerked to sudden attention, cocking his head to the side like he was listening to something far, far away. “Shhh…” He reached back to put a warning hand on her shoulder. “She says someone’s coming.”
Blix turned and listened, but couldn’t hear anything at all. “What’s going on?” she hissed.
He just sat there, staring into space. “Holy crap! There’s a minimap in my head.”
“What?”
“Shhh…” He lowered his voice. “Four blue dots are moving along the trail where the road used to be. They might be those jocks.”
“Alf, look at me.” She grabbed his face and physically forced him to focus on her. “What’s. Going. On? You’re scaring me.”
“How are you even doing this?” Alf seemed to stare right through her. “Is it some kind of nanotechnology? Is that what the dust is? How can I see a computer interface in my head?”
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“Alf, can you hear me?” Blix leaned closer until only a foot separated them. “Nod if you can hear me.”
“I’m not a character,” he said to the empty space behind her. “And this isn’t a game. My name is Alf Alvarez. I’m a student at UC Berkeley.” His voice grew steadily louder. “And I’m not yours to buy or lend. Someone’s been messing with you. Understand? You’re being pranked.”
Alf went suddenly rigid. All the expression drained out of eyes as his face went completely blank.
“Alf!” Blix patted his cheek. “Hello… Alf?”
He sat there rigid as a statue for a full five minutes, and then, halting and jerking like an 80’s video game, he reached out with both hands and grabbed her by the face and the collar of her shirt.
Blix’s heart froze in her chest as a whole new level of terror crashed down on her.
And then, like hitting play on a paused video, he came back to life, gasping and sputtering and screaming in terror.
“Alf?” She eased away from him, careful not to make any sudden moves. “Is that you?”
“She did it,” he gasped. “She can control me. I couldn’t even move…”
“Who?” Blix kept her voice calm and steady. Extreme forms of dissociative identity disorder were exceedingly rare, but it could have been triggered by stress. God knows he’d had enough of that. “Was that Jane? Is she curious about my scars?”
“W-w-what?” Alf was trembling now. He looked freaked to the power of e.
Something melted deep inside her. She wanted to comfort him, but she was afraid it might trigger another Jane episode. “It’s okay,” she soothed. “I didn’t mind. You can touch me again if you want.”
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Alf’s gaze shifted away from her. He stared into space, looking even more terrified than before.
Blix braced for another attack. With all the stress they’d been under, it made sense that he’d be triggered.
“What do you mean role-playing game?” he said without looking at her. “Are you talking about a video game?”
“Is that Jane again?” Blix asked gently. “Is she talking to you now?”
“What about Blix?” he asked the heavens. “The girl right in front of me.”
“Tell her I’m your friend,” Blix said in her most soothing voice. “Tell her I’m her friend too.”
“What do you mean exotic?” he asked the empty space to her left. “Is fame some kind of currency?” Another short pause. “Why not?”
Something wasn’t right. Blix studied Alf’s face, the flick of his eyes, the tightness of his lips, the lift of his right brow. It looked like he was really listening to someone. Did people with dissociative identity disorder have actual conversations with themselves? Was it possible to freak yourself out?
A few more minutes of staring, and then Alf turned and looked Blix right in the eye. “A voice in my head says she’s an alien and that her mother is turning our world into some kind of intergalactic video game. Most of those monsters we saw back at the campus are player characters being controlled by her competitors. She says she paid a lot to play me as her character, but if I do a good enough job, she’ll let me play myself.”
“And what did she say about me?” Somehow she managed to keep the skepticism out of her voice.
“She says you’re a native NPC. Nobody chose to play you because you’re too expensive. Apparently you’re classified as a one-of-a-kind exotic.”
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