Vrbanger Here

Vincent's blood ran cold. He knew that door.

The Vrbanger screamed in his mind.

It wasn't pain. It was the memory of pain—sharp, electric, and accompanied by a visceral flash of a childhood fall from a bicycle, the taste of blood and gravel. He yelped, stumbling backward. The enemies in-game paused, confused by his sudden flinch. vrbanger

The lights in his apartment dimmed. The game closed itself. A new window opened: a blank white room. Vincent's blood ran cold

The Vrbanger woke up.