Arena of the Apocalypse - A LitRPG Survival Saga Part 1

ON THE DAY the world ended, I wasn’t doing anything that could be considered heroic.

I wasn’t out saving lives in some hospital.

I wasn’t even out looking for little old ladies that needed help crossing the street.

No, instead I was spending the last minutes of my real life on the couch in my college apartment, playing some racing game with one of my roommates, Vinny.

And losing. Losing pretty badly.

“You never get any better at this game,” said Vinny, shaking his head of closely-shaven hair, which had just been trimmed up earlier that day. “I was thinking that at some point you might actually start winning a few races, but you don’t.”

I resisted the urge to scowl and instead reached down to grab one of the pizza rolls that had been sitting on a plate between us. When my hand hit nothing but fabric, I realized the plate had overturned, spilling the rolls and the pizza sauce that went with them, onto the floor.

“Shit, Vinny, hit pause,” I said, putting my controller down. “Pizza rolls are down.”

Vinny blew a raspberry. “It’s fine, I’ll just ask my Ma to clean them up. She’ll do it, no problem.”

Of course, Vinny would say that. The guy didn’t do anything without getting his mother’s help first. You see, Vinny wasn’t far off from one of those Italian-American guys you see on trashy television.

He loved hitting the gym, and he almost always had a tan.

He made extra money in very odd ways, some of which I’m sure weren’t technically legal.

Oh, and his mother cleaned up everything for him. She even did his laundry and brought it over folded and pressed every Sunday morning.

“Only the best for my baby,” she would say, kissing his cheek while Vinny grinned.

© 2024 Gina M Burt (Hljóðbók): 9798347809264

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Hljóðbók: 25 december 2024