The mischievous gamer God

Bobby woke up on a speedboat headed for an island he didn't recognize.

The first thing he did was check himself over, instinct kicking in like second nature. He immediately noticed that his outfit had changed. Instead of his usual flannel and trucker look, he was now wearing a long-sleeve reddish-brown bomber jacket, camo pants, brown fingerless leather gloves,and brown leather combat boots. A tactical vest with ammo pouches was strapped tight across his chest. Fastened to the shoulder strap was a high-powered flashlight, and perched on his head was his signature baseball cap—worn, a little greasy, but familiar.

"Well… ain't this somethin'," he muttered gruffly.

He checked his equipment. In the holster on his vest sat a gleaming Magnum Python—heavy, reliable, and packing a serious punch. He gave it a quick once-over, nodding in approval. On his hip was a sleek, custom Beretta. He took it out, admiring its craftsmanship, the way it felt perfectly balanced in his hand.

"Damn… these are nice guns. Whoever this Barry guy was, he had damn good taste."

Slung over his back, he found what looked like an NSR47 assault rifle. He unshouldered it, gave it a quick inspection—checking the condition, the weight, the magazine. Everything seemed combat-ready. After mentally taking stock of his ammo, he pulled out a combat knife from the sheath on his belt. He ran a thumb along the blade, checking its edge.

"Damn… am I fightin' monsters or goin' to war?" he grunted, squinting toward the island ahead. "Oh well. So, my goal is to find the two girls that are playin' this game with me. Then the three of us'll clear it together. Sounds simple enough… but it probably won't be."

He eased the boat up to the dock and killed the engine. With practiced hands, he tied it off, then hopped onto dry land, boots crunching against the weathered wooden planks. He started moving forward with steady, cautious steps, instincts alert.

But he didn't get very far.

Standing in front of him was a little girl—around ten, maybe eleven years old. She had soft brown eyes and pale skin, her brown hair tied neatly into a side braid with a blue ribbon. Her white dress was dirtied and worn, and her black shoes were scuffed from travel. She stood there quietly, unmoving, calmly observing Bobby with a look far older than her years.

Bobby's expression softened as he calmly walked up to her, the grip on his weapon loosening. He knelt down slowly to her eye level, his voice low and gentle, but still carrying that unmistakable Bobby Singer gruffness.

"Well now… what are you doin' here, little lady?"

The girl's voice was soft, barely above a whisper. "I'm not sure... I don't know where here is… or how I got here."

Bobby exhaled through his nose, brow furrowing slightly. "That so? Well, my name's Bobby Singer. What's yours?"

The girl hesitated for just a second before replying, "Natalia."

Bobby gave a small smile and nodded. "That's a real pretty name, Natalia."

He rubbed his chin, thinking things through. "I obviously can't leave you here, but I can't stay here either. And I sure as hell ain't leavin' you by yourself. So… you wanna come with me?"

Natalia nodded shyly. "I don't like being alone. It's scary. There's monsters everywhere…"

Bobby's face hardened just a little at that, his protective instincts kicking in strong. "Yeah… monsters can be pretty scary. But you stick close to me now, alright? I'll make sure they don't get you, okay?"

Natalia offered a small smile, a little warmth returning to her expression. "Okay."

"Alright then," Bobby said, standing up and adjusting his grip on his weapon. "Let's get goin'."

The two of them began walking up a winding dirt path that led toward the cliff face. As they ascended, they came across a weathered stone staircase, man-made and partially crumbling with age.

As they climbed the stairs, Bobby caught movement in the shadows and stopped. Massive insect-like creatures crawled along the rocks, grotesque and twitching, but they kept their distance.

He narrowed his eyes, hand hovering near his sidearm. "As long as they don't come over here, I won't put 'em down. Don't wanna waste the ammo. Got a feelin' there'll be worse things up ahead…"

He glanced behind him. "Natalia, stau close."

She nodded, keeping pace with him, her eyes darting warily to the skittering bugs.

After a few tense minutes, they reached a large rusted shutter door with a small gap underneath. Bobby approached it cautiously, crouched, and grabbed the bottom. With a grunt of effort, he forced it upward, metal screeching against metal. Once it was high enough, the two of them ducked inside.

The door immediately slammed shut behind them with a loud clang.

"Well," Bobby muttered, glancing over his shoulder. "Hopefully I didn't just trap us…"

They trudged on through the dim, blood-stained hallways, the air thick with rot and mold. Bobby had his handgun at the ready, flashlight beam slicing through the darkness.

As they rounded a corner, Natalia suddenly tugged at Bobby's shirt.

He stopped and looked back at her. "What is it, kiddo?"

Natalia pointed forward, her voice barely audible. "There's monsters up ahead."

Bobby raised an eyebrow. "How d'you know?"

"I'm not sure… I can kind of just… see them. I don't know how."

Bobby looked at her for a long second. Skeptical, but thoughtful. He'd seen enough weird crap in his day to know not to dismiss stuff like this.

"Ain't the strangest thing I've heard," he muttered. He tightened his grip on his handgun, lowering his voice. "Alright… I'll trust you. Let's keep it quiet."

They crept slowly down the corridor, every step deliberate and silent. The oppressive air pressed down around them like a weight.

As they entered the next room, Natalia whispered, "It's right there."

Bobby pressed his back to the wall and carefully peered around the corner.

What he saw made his stomach clench. A rotting corpse—walking. Its skin sloughed off in places, bones visible beneath gray flesh. Its empty eye sockets stared blankly at the wall, the body shambling forward in slow, jerky steps.

Bobby's jaw clenched. He pulled his knife, keeping his gun holstered to preserve ammo. Quiet as a ghost, he crept forward, step by careful step. Once in range, he lunged forward and drove the blade into the base of its skull. The creature crumpled instantly.

He wiped the blade clean on its tattered clothes, then looked back at Natalia with a nod. "Good job, partner. Keep an eye out for more, okay?"

Natalia beamed, her smile bright and proud. "You got it."

They pressed onward, Bobby leading with steady steps, Natalia close behind. After a moment, she stopped and said, "Three more… in the room up ahead. They're standing together."

Bobby gave her a serious look. "Stay here. I won't be long."

He stepped out from cover and strode into the room, gun raised.

The creatures turned to face him—three of them, rotting and snarling.

He fired a single shot, striking the one at the back in the leg. It collapsed with a guttural moan. Before the other two could close the distance, he shot them both clean through the head.

They dropped instantly.

The last one, still crawling and struggling to rise, let out a rasping growl. Bobby approached calmly, pulled his knife, and without hesitation, drove it between the thing's eyes, ending it with brutal efficiency.

Then Bobby said, "Alright, Natalia, it's safe. Come on."

Natalia hurried into the room, her footsteps light and quick. She looked up at Bobby with concern in her eyes and said, "Are you okay, Bobby?"

Bobby let out a small breath, giving her a reassuring look. "I'm alright, kiddo. Just some reanimated corpses—nothin' I ain't dealt with before. Now come on, let's go before more of 'em show up."

They made their way upstairs, boots and shoes echoing softly against the worn concrete. As they reached the top, Natalia paused and said, "There's one in between those shelves… one moving up and down the hall… and one laying face down in the corner."

Bobby gave her a quick glance and nodded approvingly. "Good work, kiddo. Step back."

He advanced toward one of the shelves and, with a grunt of effort, shoved it forward. The heavy metal shelving toppled with a crash, collapsing onto the creature behind it with a sickening crunch.

The one patrolling nearby heard the noise and immediately lunged at Bobby, arms outstretched. But it was slow—clumsy. Bobby dodged its attack with practiced ease, slammed it into the wall, and drove his knife into its head with brutal precision. The creature crumpled into a twitching heap on the ground.

Natalia caught up to him, eyes wide with awe. "That was cool… but how come you didn't shoot them?"

Bobby glanced at her and holstered his blade. "We don't know what we're gonna find later on, so it's better we save as many bullets as we can. We do that by usin' the environment to our advantage, stabbin' when we can… or just avoidin' fights altogether."

He pointed toward the third creature lying in the corner. "For example, you see that one layin' in the corner?"

Natalia nodded. "Uh-huh."

Bobby picked up a jagged chunk of rubble—roughly the size of a bowling ball—and, without hesitation, brutally slammed it down on the creature's skull. The impact made a wet crack, and the body went limp.

"When you're in a situation like this," Bobby said, brushing dust from his hands, "you use anything you can to survive. And on top of that… always be mindful of your resources."

Natalia nodded thoughtfully, her expression serious as she took Bobby's words to heart.

The two of them continued to cross the room—only to find the stairs at the far end were completely destroyed, crumbled away into broken debris.

Bobby stared at the gap and muttered, "Well, hell. I'm too old for stuff like this…"

He picked up Natalia without complaint and carefully set her onto the ledge of the remaining stairs. Then he took a few steps back, braced himself, and ran forward. With a grunt, he leapt upward, grabbing onto the bottom stair with both hands. Muscles straining, he hauled himself up and finally got his footing.

Once he stood, he turned around and spotted a crate tucked in the corner—sturdy, stable, and clearly strong enough to stand on.

"I really wish I saw that before," he grumbled, cracking his neck. "Damn near threw my back out climbin'. Oh well… live and learn. Come on, Natalia."

The two of them continued making their way through the darkened halls, the air heavy with the scent of rot and damp metal.

Soon, they entered a room with nothing but a couple of rusted shelves and a single door at the other side. Bobby tried the handle, but it didn't budge.

"Damn it," he muttered. "Locked from the other side. Guess we'll have to double back, see if we can find another way."

"No, we don't," Natalia said quietly, her sharp eyes scanning the room. She pointed at a narrow hole in the crumbling wall. "I can fit through here."

Bobby frowned. "I'm not sure that's a good idea, kiddo."

"I'll be fine," she said, voice calm but determined. "Trust me."

Without waiting, Natalia crawled through the hole, vanishing into the next room.

On the other side, dim light spilled across the floor. She saw one of the monsters lying ahead—motionless, but not dead. Remembering Bobby's earlier words, she looked down and spotted a brick nearby.

She picked it up, her hands trembling slightly, but her resolve firm. Then, raising it high, she brought it down hard—caving the creature's skull in with a sickening smash.

She stood there for a moment, breathing hard, then walked over and unlocked the door.

Bobby stepped inside and saw the corpse on the floor. His eyes scanned the mess, then looked down at Natalia.

"Not bad, kiddo. But I don't think a brick's a good weapon for you. I'll have to find you somethin' better later."

They continued their journey. Bobby pushed a stack of crates aside, clearing the path forward.

The hallway ahead was long and empty, cloaked in darkness. Eventually, they found an opening on their right—an old maintenance hatch leading downward. They climbed down the rusted ladder, the air growing colder as they descended into the underground.

They made their way through the narrow, pitch-black corridors—silent, grim, and suffocating.

Eventually, they came to a heavy door and pushed it open.

They stepped out into the open and moved forward, finally arriving at what could only be described as a detention center. The place reeked of death and damp concrete. Rows of prison cells lined both floors of the massive room, metal bars rusted and twisted. Chains hung from hooks in the walls, and bloodstains marred the concrete floors.

To their right, they saw a destroyed iron gate—bent and torn open, like something monstrous had forced its way through.

Bobby stared at the damage, his face grim. "What the hell happened here? …Well, whatever. Makes it easier for us."

They climbed over the broken gate and made their way to a large shutter door. Bobby grabbed the handle and heaved it upward with a grunt, letting them pass through.

They stepped out into a wide grass clearing, and for the first time in a while, the air felt fresh. The sky above was dark but open. They could see the ocean off to the right—black and endless—and straight ahead, in the distance, the silhouette of a radio tower loomed.

Bobby took a deep breath, then pointed toward the tower. "Let's head to that radio tower."