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N-Hance: Use As Directed
N-Hance: Use As Directed
N-Hance: Use As Directed
Ebook48 pages46 minutes

N-Hance: Use As Directed

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What would you risk to create the life of your dreams? Eric is a gamer whose world is falling to pieces. School is a dead-end, his best friend is moving away, and his gaming career is going down in flames. But then he is offered a chance to try N-Hance, an intelligence-boosting drug that could take his mind to new levels. But brain alteration is not without risk. Meet Eric Corvus before he was the Wraithlord, in this mind-altering novelette. Now with bonus material!

LanguageEnglish
PublisherM.J. Miello
Release dateOct 9, 2012
ISBN9781301977123
N-Hance: Use As Directed
Author

M.J. Miello

About Me: I am an eternal 80s kid sitting in the dark, in front of a giant dinosaur of a television holding my NES controller, having just watched in horror as Link was struck, spun around in agony, and blinked into nonexistance. I can still recall the chill riding up the back of my arms as the electronic plucked notes played and I was offered the most profound of all life choices: "Continue, Save, or Retry." The game has changed, but I have been 'continuing' ever since.

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    Book preview

    N-Hance - M.J. Miello

    N-Hance

    A Gamer’s Tale

    M. J. Miello

    Copyright 2012 M.J.Miello

    Smashwords Edition

    Smashwords Edition, License Notes

    Thank you for downloading this free ebook. Although this is a free book, it remains the copyrighted property of the author, and may not be reproduced, copied and distributed for commercial or non-commercial purposes. If you enjoyed this book, please encourage your friends to download their own copy at Smashwords.com, where they can also discover other works by this author. Thank you for your support.

    ***

    In the not too distant future…

    Eric watched his squadron of star fighters race toward the massive enemy ships that had just begun the bombardment of his home world. But opposing interceptors, spreading out like a net, blocked the way. His own capital ship was dropping out of fourth dimensional stasis, but he had positioned it too far out to do much good. His awareness jumped from pilot to pilot, allowing him to view the conflict from a multitude of perspectives. Each glimpse of the whole added up to a rather poor prospect. The clouds of enemy fighters outnumbered his forces by at least three to one, and it would only be the speed of his decision-making that could possibly turn the tide. Battle erupted in all its vibrant multi-chromatic glory. Waves of fighters clashed like two angry swarms of bees.

    So much was happening all at once, and there were just too many competing demands for his attention. The more Eric struggled to keep up, the further he fell behind. A warning flashed through the middle of his visual field. He sliced across it with his eyes but he gathered nothing from it. He tried again, but the words had already faded. In his haste, he began to make sloppy mistakes. He wasted all of his best torpedoes on a target he could have taken out with just one. A screaming crewman alerted him that he had neglected his capital ship for too long. By the time he threw his awareness toward it, it was a brilliant sphere of expanding light.

    Good game, Eric muttered, trying to conceal his frustration from his distant opponent. He had been defeated for the seventeenth consecutive time. He pulled off his game mask, and fought the impulse to throw the sphere-shaped controller across the bus. Two girls seated across the aisle were laughing at him. Chevy, one of his few non-gamer friends, was laughing too. Chevy began to mimic Eric’s recent spasmodic appearance, cradling an imaginary sphere with obscene exuberance. He earned a good amount of laughter from several onlookers.

    You really shouldn’t play that thing in public, Eric, Chevy said, when the bus pulled up outside their school. One of these days I am going to leave you on the bus. This was always a real possibility, and probably would have happened more than once, if Eric didn’t pay Chevy a small rook fee to smack him on the back of the head when they reached school.

    In the free time before classes, Eric took his usual position with his gamer group, the Mask Wearers, or Maskers for short. They were, in their own estimation, world-class gamer elite. These were the peers he spent most of his school day with, but he was not regarded very highly among them. Despite having devoted almost all his free periods and evenings to their cause and being very well steeped in gaming culture, the truth was that Eric was not very good at games. This was a problem. In fact, he perceived this as close to the largest problem in his life. Not only was he a second-rate gamer, but he was ranked near the bottom in their hierarchy across almost every game they played. He could never make the final cut in

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