I didn’t recognize the ceiling above me.

That’s usually not a good sign.

With a yawn and a stretch, I sat up on the bed. The mattress was firmer than I was used to, and it barely creaked when I moved. Definitely not my bed. The room was clean, the walls bare of any poorly taped posters, the floor free of dirty clothes and crumpled up papers. Definitely not my room.

In fact, the whole place was so immaculate, I had to wonder whether anybody lived here at all. Which, of course, brought about the question of what I was doing here. I scratched the back of my head, trying to recall the previous night. Let’s see, I’d gone out to a party—somewhat unusual. I’d gotten fairly drunk—not quite so unusual. I’d stumbled into someone’s car, preemptively apologized for the inevitable mess I would leave behind, and then...

Nothing. Nada. Not a single recollection after that. Did I black out? Seemed likely enough. I should probably just be thankful I was alive and uninjured.

“I... am uninjured, aren’t I?” Nothing signified otherwise. No pain, no aches, and my t-shirt—the same one I’d been wearing last night—was still in one piece. Hell, it didn’t even have a stain on it, which was a pleasant surprise.

Hold on a second. No pain? There was definitely one part of my body that shouldn’t have applied to—my head! Where was the hangover? With how much I’d had to drink, it didn’t make any sense for me to not have one. Okay, maybe not exactly something to complain about, but certainly odd. But maybe I shouldn’t think about it too much, in case the powers that be decide the fix that little glitch in the matrix.

Turning to the side of the bed, I lifted myself to my feet, letting my legs stretch after what felt like a good night's sleep. The moment my feet touched the floor, I realized they weren’t actually touching the floor. Because I was wearing shoes. I’d gone to bed with shoes on. Ugh, gross. I’d have to apologize to whoever’s bed this was.

Although, in my defense, my shoes were brand new. No, that wasn’t right; I’d had this pair for over a year now. Why did they look so clean, then? I lifted my feet to see that the soles were spotless, too. Did... somebody clean my shoes for me? Far from the worst thing that could happen to someone during a blackout, but... why would anybody do that? On closer inspection, they weren’t just clean, but free of any signs of wear and tear as well. They really were brand new. Do people go shoe-shopping when they’re obscenely drunk? Or maybe I’d just stolen them...

Ugh, I was starting to feel that headache coming on. Forcing myself to ignore that oddity, I shifted my attention to the far more pertinent issue of figuring out where the fuck I was. I made my way to the sole window in the room and pulled the thin curtains aside.

I wasn’t sure what I expected to see, but what I got was nothing terribly exciting. It was morning out, much earlier than I’d normally expect to wake up on the weekend, to be honest. I was on the second floor of this house, and the neighboring ones were similar two-story buildings. Given the relatively large homes and their nicely-kept lawns, I concluded that this was some upper-middle class sort of neighborhood.

That was a relief. Sure as hell beat waking up in the middle of nowhere or some sketchy, rundown section of the city. Though I still didn’t know where I was, that was a minor problem in the modern age of smart phones and GPSs.

Assuming, of course, I still had my phone on me. My hands felt over my pockets. Ah, fuck. I fumbled through them, turning the pockets inside-out, but there was nothing to be found. Not only was my phone missing, but my wallet as well, so no money or ID, either.

Shit, shit, shit. Maybe they fell out my pocket in my sleep? I went back to the bed and yanked the blankets, covers, and pillows aside. I didn’t find anything underneath. I shook the beddings, uselessly hoping to see something tumble out. In a last-ditch hope, I tossed everything to the ground and lifted the mattress, but there was nothing under there, either.

I was halfway to having a panic attack when I heard a familiar vibrating sound from nearby. My attention instantly turned to the bedside nightstand. Huh. It was right there. How did I not notice that before? Regardless, I breathed a sigh of relief as I made my way around the bed. My wallet was still missing, but I decided not to worry about that. There wasn’t much money in there, and I could always just cancel the credit cards. Would be a pain in the ass if I had to visit the DMV again to replace my license, though.

I plucked the phone off the nightstand and pushed the button on the side activate the screen. Muscle memory already had my thumb in place to type in my passcode when I realized the keypad wasn’t popping up. Instead, the screen was a solid block of black, save for a message written in white.

Greetings, newly Chosen, and congratulations on completing the tutorial! We thank you for joining us on this endeavor, and hope you enjoy the vast array of experiences awaiting you in the world of the Calamity. Select ‘OK’ to continue to your home screen.

…The fuck? I groaned, rolling my head in a circle. It looked like I'd somehow managed to drunkenly download some stupid piece of malware. Under normal circumstances, I would’ve avoided interacting with the program until I had the chance to look it up online or show it to a friend, but neither of those options were available at the moment. Without much of an alternative, I hit the ‘OK’ button at the bottom, hoping it would take me back to my home screen.

08:39:12 XP: 0 Inbox Characters XP Shop Maps Friends Quests Encyclopedia Achievements Scan

No, of course not. Why would anything ever be so easy? On the bright side, at least I had the time of day now. And hey, maybe that “Friends” button would pull up a list of my contacts. Channeling my barely-existent optimistic side, I tapped on it.

Friends You have 0 Friends.

Hah. Very funny. I went back and tapped the “Inbox” tab, but found nothing there save for the previous greetings message. It also gave me the option to delete it, which I did purely out of annoyance. The “Maps” tab followed that failure, which I hoped would take me to some kind of GPS program.

No Maps currently available. To utilize a Map, either receive one as a drop, or purchase one from the XP Shop.

Nothing doing. From the look of things, this program was designed to scam people for their credit card info by locking out their phones and making them purchase one of these “maps” or whatever. Seemed like a rather convoluted plan, but luckily for me, I’d already lost my wallet, so I couldn’t give away that info even if I’d been gullible enough to do so in the first place.

That said, I wasn’t really left with any other options. I mean, it couldn’t hurt to look, could it? This thing already had my phone. I went back to the home page again and tapped the button for the XP Shop.

The XP Shop is currently unavailable. Please complete Daily Quest I to unlock the XP Shop.

Well, this just kept getting dumber. Maybe none of this had anything to do with a scam and whoever had made this program just got off on jerking people around. In either case, I was losing interest in playing along and decided to just figure things out the old fashion way: by actually talking with other human beings. Hooray! I hadn’t heard any signs of life in the house so far, but someone could just be asleep in another room or something. Hopefully they’d already know I was here, or things might get a little awkward.

Tentatively, I pulled open the bedroom door and stepped into the hallway. “Hello,” I said softly, though my voice carried louder than I’d expected in the silence of the house. A quick glance around revealed there were four other rooms on this floor. I checked through them one-by-one, making sure to knock on each door several times and call out, first. The last thing I needed was to run into an overzealous homeowner with a shotgun who thought I was trying to rob the place. I didn’t find anyone, though, in either of the two bedrooms, the laundry room, or the bathroom.

The bedrooms were nearly identical to the one I’d woken up in, lacking any kind of personalization whatsoever. I checked the closets to find they’d been mostly cleaned out, though there were still a few pieces of clothing left behind. Neither bedroom looked like it had been occupied in quite some time, though the complete lack of dust buildup conflicted with that notion.

The bathroom was the same, sparkly clean. I ran a finger along the smooth countertop before flipping the switch for a better look. I heard it click, waited a half-second for the lights to flicker on, but nothing happened. Confused, I turned back to the switch and flipped it on and off several times, but still nothing. Despite the otherwise impeccable housekeeping, it looked like whoever lived here had forgotten to change the bulbs.

Curious, I tested the sink next. No matter how much I twisted the knobs, not a single drop of water emerged from the tap. Maybe it wasn’t the bulbs, then, but a lack of utilities? I went back to one of the bedrooms and checked the lights, but none of them turned on, either. I scratched my head as I tried to figure out what this meant. Why would anyone bother keeping a house this clean, only to neglect the water and electricity? Maybe it was a model house, or one up for sale? That would make some sense, and explain why there weren’t any pictures or decorations up on the walls.

Wandering back to the bathroom, I went through the various cupboards and drawers. I discovered a full dispenser of hand soap, an unopened bottle of mouthwash, several toothbrushes, boxes of toothpaste, various medical ointments, and a whole host of other bathroom supplies, all in their unopened packaging. I was rather perturbed as to why someone would leave all these things in an unoccupied house, but gave up trying to figure it out. Instead, I headed for the stairs, calling out repeatedly as I walked down, just in case there was anyone still here. That I got no reply back implied I was either alone, or they were hiding away somewhere, possibly in the middle of notifying the authorities of the strange man that had invaded their home and was, for some strange reason, rummaging through their toiletries.

Trespassing is a misdemeanor, right?

At this point, I probably should have just left the place and gone to look for help elsewhere, but a nagging curiosity was getting the better of me, and I found myself checking through the downstairs. The living room was dull and generic, with only a leather couch, a coffee table, and a large, flatscreen TV hanging on the wall. I spent more time than I’d care to admit trying to figure out how to turn it on before realizing lack of electricity would make that pointless, anyway.

The next stop was the kitchen. It looked to be empty at first, but opening the cupboards revealed it to be full of non-perishable food items like, cereals, canned foods, and various snacks.

“What the fuck are Schmoreos?” I mumbled, pulling out a packet of cream-filled cookies. In fact, all of the items seemed to be either a generic or a parodic brand. That didn’t make them look any less appetizing to my rumbling stomach, though.

I was tempted to partake, but the last thing I needed to do was leave more traces of my being here. I put the cookies back and opened up the fridge, finding a few bottles of water and a gallon of milk inside. That was odd. The water was one thing, but why would you leave milk in a fridge that wasn’t even powered on? I took it out and checked the expiration date, hoping it would give me an idea of how recently it had been stocked. Instead of having an actual date, however, the label merely read, “7 days remaining.”

I snorted. Well isn’t that convenient—it would always be good for another week!

Not my problem, though. I put the milk back where it was and shut the fridge, satisfied with my level of exploration. Now it was time to high-tail it out of here before whoever owned the place decided to come back.

I made my way to the front door. It had a deadbolt lock, but nothing on the knob, meaning there was no way for me to lock it from the outside without a key. It would be obvious someone had been in the house since the last occupant left, but there was nothing I could do about it, so I just undid the lock and stepped outside.

The moment I closed the door behind me, I paused before taking another step. Something prickled at my skin; a sense of disquiet that had been in the back of my mind since I’d woken up, but was now coming unignorably to the surface. Something wasn’t quite right here...

I took a glance up one side of the street, then the other. It was a Sunday—should be a Sunday—so I expected to see at least one person outside, mowing their lawn, doing some yardwork, or just going for a jog... but there was nothing. In fact, now that I was really paying attention, I noticed there weren’t any vehicles outside, either. All of the houses had garages, but I would’ve expected to see at least one car parked out in the driveway or along the curb. Maybe it was a really religious neighborhood and everyone had gone out to church.

It was only after that thought that I realized what was really unnerving me. There was no noise. I strained my ears, hoping to catch the sound of a bird chirping in the trees, or maybe a car engine in the distance... Nothing. The only sounds I heard were from my own body; my heart beat thumping steadily louder, faster, my breaths turning ragged and...

Nope! I shook my head and snapped out of it. No sense in freaking myself out over what was probably nothing. Sure this place had the eeriness of a ghost town, but there was no way an abandoned neighborhood would be so well kept. Just because I couldn’t figure it out right away didn’t mean there wasn’t a perfectly plausible explanation for all these little oddities.

Forcing the uneasiness out of my mind, I glanced up the street again. This time, I spotted something that hadn’t been there before; a figure in the distance making its way down toward me. It was a man, if I had to guess based on the physique. Hard to tell, though, with his baggy sweatshirt and the hood cover his head. Regardless, I couldn’t deny the flood of relief that passed over me at seeing another human being for the first time this morning. Waving a hand through the air, I called out to him and began making my way down the street.