The infirmary was too quiet.
Not the peaceful kind of quiet either, but the kind that reminded Erica she wasn’t supposed to be moving yet. The soft hum of the machines, the faint glow running through the walls, the smell of clean linen and something faintly metallic in the air, it all felt like a place meant for recovery, not restlessness.
Which was exactly why she was already sitting up again.
Her body felt… fine. Not perfect, not untouched, but functional in a way that didn’t match what she remembered. The bandages were still wrapped tight around her abdomen, still pulling slightly when she twisted, but the deep, crushing weakness she expected just wasn’t there. No dizziness, no heavy limbs, no lingering exhaustion dragging her back down into the bed.
Player perks.
Or maybe just the game refusing to let her sit still too long.
Teresa had noticed it too.
“You are not leaving this room,” she had said, calm but firm, arms folded as she stood near the door. “Your brain may say it is healed. That doesn’t mean your body agrees.”
“I feel fine,” Erica had argued, already halfway off the bed.
“And you felt fine before you were impaled,” Teresa replied without missing a beat.
That had shut her up.
Mostly.
Still, Teresa hadn’t stayed. Duty pulled her away, or maybe the conversation with her father had left something unfinished that needed to be dealt with. Either way, she left Erica with a final look that felt more like a warning than anything else, and the door had closed behind her with that same quiet finality everything in this place seemed to have.
So now Erica sat alone.
Resting.
Supposedly.
“…yeah, no,” she muttered.
The UI flickered open, and she logged out.
───
Sanctuary hit her like silence.
A perfect, neutral existence that felt more artificial now than it ever had before. Erica stood still for a second, letting the absence of sensation settle over her. No bandages pulling at her skin. No hum of strange machines. No cool stone beneath her feet. Just clean, empty space and the dull wrongness of not really feeling anything.
“…I hate this place,” she murmured.
Her social panel opened automatically.
It exploded.
Message requests flooded down the screen, dozens of names she didn’t recognize stacking over each other, notifications blinking faster than she could read them. Stream messages. DMs. Tags. She opened the stream logs, and most of them blurred together at first.
“NOOO THE GOOD PART”
“BRO WHY DID IT CUT”
“L streamer”
“bring it back”
“POV better die next time”
“yeah hope she gets turned lol”
Erica blinked.
“…wow.”
She scrolled a bit slower. Mixed in with the usual garbage were actual viewers, people talking about the fight, about Teresa, about the ambush. But the loudest voices were the same kind of people that always showed up to newbie streams, hoping someone else sucked at the game worse than they did.
She let out a breath and shook her head, then reopened her stream.
The camera indicator blinked on.
“Hey guys,” Erica said, giving a small wave, trying to keep it casual. “Uh… thanks for watching earlier.”
Chat immediately started moving again. Viewer count ticked upward.
“I guess I should clear something up,” she continued, scratching the back of her head. “My name is Erica Mayweather. I’m… actually a player. Not an NPC.”
The reactions came instantly.
───
Bloodsucker67:
yeah sure kind of obvious no plot armor my ass
go die in a vampire castle again
hacker
get carried
Frfrfr4565:
LOL she was soooo bad at fighting
Frfrfr4565:
she thinks shes good at the game
───
Erica exhaled through her nose, already tired of that tone.
“Bloodsucker67, I’m sorry you feel that way,” she said, keeping her voice level. “Trust me, I didn’t use any cheats. The game just let me have the name, and… yeah, it kind of helped me become friends with Teresa.”
───
Frfrfr4565:
FRIENDS LMFAO
Frfrfr4565:
SHE THINKS THEY HAVE FEELINGS
───
Erica paused, then shrugged slightly.
“Um… yeah. I mean, they feel real to me. Why not accept them as real in-game?” She leaned back a bit, thinking as she spoke. “Like… look at how far AI has come. Remember Project Alice? They shut that down because it was considered inhumane to use AI in military simulations.”
Chat slowed slightly.
“If it’s inhumane to make AI fight each other,” she continued, “then they’re probably closer to human than people want to admit.”
A notification popped up.
───
+1 Subscriber
───
Erica blinked, then smiled.
“Hey, thanks for the sub.”
The chat didn’t get nicer, but it got steadier. The same names kept showing up, repeating themselves, arguing, reacting, staying. And that was more than she had before. Her last attempt at streaming had been dead. Just her parents. Nathan. Silence.
This wasn’t silence.
It was messy.
But it was alive.
She let the stream run in the background and checked her messages again.
Her parents.
One hour ago.
Which meant they were on, just not actively
watching.
Incoming Room Request: Family Channel
Erica hesitated for a second, then typed.
“Hey, I’m on my way.”
She closed the panel and headed toward the meeting area.
───
They were already there.
Her mom spotted her first.
“Oh my god, there she is!”
Before Erica could even react, she was pulled into a hug, tight and immediate, her mother’s arms wrapping around her like she could physically make up for all the time they weren’t actually together.
“There’s my girl,” her mom said, voice already thick with emotion. “We just saw your message. Are you okay? You look good. Did you have fun playing games today?”
“I’m okay,” Erica said, laughing softly as she hugged her back. “Yeah, I did. Like always.”
Her dad stepped in next, not as fast, not as emotional, but when he hugged her, it was firm and grounding, like he needed to confirm she was still there just as much.
“You gave us a scare when you didn’t respond,” he said.
“Yeah, sorry. I’ve been playing a game that takes a lot of attention,” Erica replied, pulling back.
Her mom immediately grabbed her hands again. “We’ve been so busy lately too, getting everything ready for your sister. Packing, paperwork, the whole college move-in nightmare. Can you believe it? She’s leaving already. Can't believe she wanted to take a gap year."
Erica smiled faintly. “Yeah… time flies.”
“It’s just going to be us now,” her mom continued, almost too quickly. “Empty house. Quiet. Which means we can come see you more!”
“Yeah?” Erica asked.
“How’s every day sound?” her mom said, just a little too eager.
Erica laughed softly. “I… yeah. I’d love that.”
She meant it.
But something felt off.
Her dad hadn’t said anything. Not really. She looked at him more closely now, and even through the simplified features of their Sanctuary avatars, she could see it. The tension in his expression. The way his eyes didn’t quite meet hers for long.
“Dad,” she said gently. “What’s up?”
He blinked, caught off guard.
“Ah…”
“Honey,” her mom cut in quickly.
“Well, now she’s suspicious,” her dad muttered.
“She doesn’t need to know yet.”
“Why?” he shot back quietly. “It’s her life. She deserves…”
“Guys,” Erica said, raising her voice just enough to cut through it. “I’m right here.”
They both stopped and looked at each other.
Something heavy passed between them.
Then her dad looked back at her.
“Your twenty-first birthday is coming up,” he said.
Erica nodded slowly. “Yeah… I know.”
He took a breath. “And when that happens… you’ll be considered an adult under state coverage.”
Her stomach dropped.
“…okay.”
“And the insurance you’re under now,” he continued carefully, “it won’t cover the cost of your treatments and your incubation pod anymore. Not at that level.”
The words landed slowly.
Too slowly.
Erica felt it before she fully understood it.
“…oh.”
“I’ve been covering the difference already,” he said, his voice tightening slightly. “What they don’t pay. The medical upkeep, the system maintenance, the neural stabilizers…”
Erica stared at him.
“At twenty-one,” he said, quieter now, “we’re going to have to disconnect the pod… until something changes.”
The world went still.
Even here.
Even in Sanctuary.
“…or until nobody can pay for me,” Erica said, her voice flat. “And I just get unplugged.”
Her mom’s face crumpled immediately.
“No,” she said quickly. “No, we would never let that happen. We can take out loans. We can… there are experimental treatments. They’re making progress. They say there’s… there was a case, one boy, after ten years he was able to move his fingers. He could speak.”
Erica barely heard her.
Her mind was somewhere else.
The infirmary.
The castle.
The mountains.
Teresa.
This world might be ones and zeroes, but it was the only place she had ever lived. The only place she had ever felt anything close to a life of her own.
And now there was a timer on it.
She didn’t realize she had gone quiet until her mom pulled her into another hug.
“It’s okay,” her mom whispered. “We’re not giving up on you. Not ever.”
Her dad stepped closer, placing a hand on her shoulder.
“We’ll figure something out,” he said. “We always do.”
Erica nodded slowly.
“…yeah.”
They stayed like that for a while, talking and trying to pretend it was normal. Eventually, they said their goodbyes, her mom hugging her one more time, her dad giving her shoulder a firm squeeze before they logged off.
And just like that, she was alone again.
Erica didn’t move for a while after her parents logged off. The silence in Sanctuary felt different now. Before, it had been empty. Neutral. Now it felt like something had been taken out of it, like the space itself had shifted to make room for a thought she couldn’t push away.
A timer.
She rubbed her arms unconsciously, even though there was no real sensation here, no chill to shake off. Her mind kept circling the same point, over and over, like it was trying to find a way around it.
Twenty-one.
Disconnected.
“…no,” she murmured under her breath.
At the corner of her eye, a red dot in her UI drew her attention.
Her stream was still live.
She hadn’t even realized she never turned it off.
The chat had been moving the entire time.
Now it was flying.
───
Frfrfr4565:
LMAOOOO CALLED IT
Bloodsucker67:
yeah makes sense
she’s basically an ai anyway
GraveyardShift92:
bro that’s actually messed up
VelvetHex:
wait that’s real??? like IRL??? People are just online because of a disease? So no lives really have no lives?
Frfrfr4565:
nah she’s just farming sympathy now
CoffinCrafter:
that’s horrible wtf
Frfrfr4565:
Hey Erica go touch grass
IronVeinTV:
you guys are actually insane
NotTheRealEdShearan:
I wish I could play video games all day and skip work. Damn.
───
Erica stared at it.
The divide was immediate. Some people didn’t care. Didn’t believe her. Didn’t want to. To them, she was content. A story. Something to poke at.
Others were listening.
───
VelvetHex:
i’m so sorry
GraveyardShift92:
that’s actually terrifying
ByteMage:
is there seriously no way around that???
───
Erica swallowed, her throat tight in a way that didn’t match the environment she was in.
“I… didn’t really plan to share all that,” she said quietly, her voice smaller now. “But yeah. That’s kind of where I’m at.”
The messages didn’t slow down. If anything, they picked up.
───
Frfrfr4565:
so you’re gonna cry on stream now?
Bloodsucker67:
she’s literally a program complaining about being unplugged
Frfrfr4565:
method acting going crazy
───
Erica exhaled slowly.
“…I’m not a program,” she said, not snapping, just stating it.
───
CoffinCrafter:
ignore them
VelvetHex:
yeah seriously don’t listen to that
IronVeinTV:
they’d be crying too
NotTheRealEdShearan:
Are you gonna donate then?
───
She scrolled.
More of the same.
Back and forth. Mocking. Sympathy. Curiosity. Disbelief. It all blurred together after a while, the words losing their edge as they repeated the same ideas in different ways. Some people reduced her to something less than human because it was easier. Others tried to pull her back into something real because they didn’t like what the alternative meant.
Erica just kept reading.
And reading.
And reading.
Until something broke through the noise.
───
VampKilla67
Donated: $100
“Don’t stop streaming! This channel is gold!”
───
Erica blinked.
“…what?”
The chat froze for half a second.
Then it exploded.
───
GraveyardShift92:
YO???
VelvetHex:
100???
Bloodsucker67:
that’s not even gonna cover anything
Frfrfr4565:
bro threw money at her and said bark, LMAO
───
Erica stared at the number.
One hundred.
It wasn’t enough. Not even close. But it was something.
Her chest tightened slightly, something unfamiliar slipping into the dread.
“…thank you,” she said, her voice softer now, more genuine. “Seriously. I don’t know what to say.”
The chat didn’t slow down. If anything, it fractured more.
───
VelvetHex:
that’s actually sweet, wait is she not AI?
CoffinCrafter:
people are gonna start spamming now watch
Bloodsucker67:
you guys are wasting money
───
Then another one came in.
───
NightHuntress22
Donated: $5
“Stay strong”
───
Then another.
───
RustyBlade77
Donated: $3
───
And another.
───
MoonlitEdge
Donated: $10
───
The notifications started stacking. Small amounts. Two dollars. Five dollars. Three. Over and over again. The chat shifted with them, the tone changing in real time as more people joined in.
───
VelvetHex:
okay wait this is actually happening
GraveyardShift92:
yo wtf
IronVeinTV:
people are actually supporting her
───
Erica’s eyes moved between the numbers, her thoughts trying to keep up.
This wasn’t nothing.
This wasn’t a joke.
This was momentum.
Her subscriber count ticked upward and kept climbing.
───
System:
+1 Subscriber
+1 Subscriber
+1 Subscriber
───
She watched it hit 53.
Erica let out a small breath she didn’t realize she was holding.
“…okay,” she whispered.
It wasn’t enough. Not yet. But it wasn’t impossible anymore either. Since her parents left, she had felt this constant dread pressing down on her, and now something pushed back against it.
Hope.
She looked up at the camera again, her expression shifting as she leaned into it slightly.
“Thanks for the donations,” she said, her voice steadier now. “Seriously. I didn’t expect… any of this.”
She hesitated.
Then the idea hit.
Fast.
A little reckless.
Very her.
“Does anybody want to make a channel goal? What would everybody like?”
───
VelvetHex:
Show b**bs
Frfrfr4565:
Turn off filters!
GraveyardShift92:
Send me nudz
NotTheRealEdShearan:
Sing after every vampire you kill
RustyBlade77:
Share your stat sheet
───
The recommendations kept coming in. Some plausible, some tactical, some thirsty, but Erica had been online long enough to understand one thing better than most.
Sex sold.
And if she needed a carrot on a stick, the obvious one was sitting right there.
“If we reach one million in donations,” she said, a small smile pulling at her lips, “I’ll turn the confidential filter off and bump my channel up to an adult-rated stream.”
The reaction was instant.
───
Frfrfr4565:
AYO???
Bloodsucker67:
NAHHH
VelvetHex:
OH MY GOD A MIL!
GraveyardShift92:
SHE DID NOT JUST SAY THAT
───
And then the donations started again. Faster. More frequent. Two dollars. Five. Three. Five. Five. Over and over again.
The total climbed.
$178
$204
$231
$256
$278
The numbers slowed after that, but the momentum stayed.
Erica leaned back slightly, watching it all happen, her heart still racing even in a place where it technically shouldn’t.
“…wow.”
Then the thought hit harder than the excitement.
She went quiet for a second, because she knew what she had just done. She wasn’t just streaming anymore. She was offering something. Something that involved Teresa. Something personal. Something real.
Her hand came up slowly, rubbing the back of her neck.
“…that would suck,” she muttered under her breath.
Because one day, it might happen. One day, Teresa might become something strangers consumed instead of someone Erica cared about. One day, those moments wouldn’t just be theirs.
But then the other thought came in.
Stronger.
Colder.
More practical.
If she didn’t do this, she wouldn’t have those moments at all.
Erica looked back up at the camera, her expression settling somewhere between determined and uncertain.
“…I’ll figure it out,” she said quietly.
Not because she had a plan.
Because she didn’t have a choice.
This wasn’t just content anymore. It wasn’t just numbers on a screen or people throwing comments at her to pass the time. This was time. Real time. Measured. Limited. Slipping away whether she acted or not.
And she was running out of it.
Her eyes shifted slightly as a new notification appeared at the edge of her UI.
───
Rebekah Mayweather (1)
───
Erica froze.
Her sister.
She hadn’t expected that.
Not now.
Not… ever, if she was being honest.
She opened the message.
“Hey sis. I don’t know if mom and dad told you, but I’m moving out. Um… the college I’m going to is doing research on top-of-the-line AI and actually has a research group dedicated to curing Terminal Cognitive Stasis (TCS).
The requirements for joining the research group is experience in online gaming…
I know I don’t write much… or visit much. Fuck. I’m sorry. It’s been since what, freshman year?
Can you help a sister out?
What are you playing right now?
Just hit me up if you’re willing to help.”
Erica just stared at it.
Her mind didn’t latch onto one thought. It tried to grab all of them at once.
Her sister.
Rebekah.
The one who barely talked to her anymore.
The one who lived a normal life while Erica… didn’t.
She wants to help find the cure.
She wants to play games with me.
She wants to play what I’m playing right now.
Erica let out a small, breathless laugh.
“…no way.”
There was no way.
She should start her on something easier. Something normal. Something safe. One of the old games she used to play, something that didn’t involve being torn apart by vampires or nearly dying every other hour.
But the thought didn’t stick.
Because she didn’t want to play anything else.
Not anymore.
Her eyes flicked back to the message.
She’s on right now.
Her chest tightened.
“…fuck.”
Erica opened the reply window.
Her fingers hovered.
Then started typing.
“Hey sis. Don’t worry, I completely understand. I hear high school is rough. Unless you went to one of those singing ones lol. Jk.”
She stared at it for half a second.
“…fuck,” she muttered, deleting the entire thing.
Too awkward.
Too forced.
She started again, slower this time.
“Hey. Yeah, I’d love to. I’m playing a rated R horror game right now though… how are you with blood and gore?”
She hesitated.
Then sent it.
A few seconds passed.
Then the reply came back.
“I like horror movies.”
Erica pursed her lips slightly.
“…not the same.”
She typed back.
“It’s not really the same.”
The typing bubble appeared again almost instantly.
“I just need to get good at one game for the requirements. Whatever you’re playing works for me. Can you help me for a bit?”
Erica leaned back slightly, staring at the message.
She wasn’t backing off.
Of course she wasn’t.
“…yeah,” Erica said under her breath.
Her message screen moved again.
“Yeah. Sure. Um… I’ll just need to find a fast travel point. Then I can meet you in the starting location.”
Another quick reply.
“Okay! Thanks sis.”
The message window closed.
Erica let out a long breath, her shoulders sinking slightly as the moment finally caught up to her.
“…okay.”
Then the next problem hit.
Harder.
She blinked.
“…how the hell do I get back to the starting area?”
Her mind ran through everything she’d done so far.
No map.
No menu for travel.
No obvious system for going back.
“…there’s no way the game doesn't have fast travel is there?” she muttered.
Her eyes drifted toward her friend list.
Nathan.
“…yeah,” she said quietly.
She pulled up the message window and typed quickly before she could overthink it.
“Hey. Quick question. Is there fast travel in Helsing Online? Like… a way to get back to starting zones fast?”
She hovered for a second, then sent it.
No response.
She didn’t expect one immediately. Nathan had a habit of disappearing at the worst times, and if he was in-game, there was a good chance he was too busy not dying to check messages.
Still, she kept glancing at it.
Nothing.
The silence stretched just long enough to remind her she was on a timer again, even here.
“…great,” she muttered, closing the panel.
An hour passed.
Erica had drifted back to idly reading chat, answering a few questions, dodging others, her mind only half there the entire time. Every few minutes, her eyes would flick back to her messages, hoping to see something new.
Finally—
A notification.
She opened it instantly.
Nathan:
"Does a horse count?"
Erica stared at it.
“…you’ve got to be kidding me.”
She let out a slow breath, pinching the bridge of her nose.
Of course.
“…so that’s a no,” she muttered, already dreading what that meant.
No teleporting.
No instant return.
Just distance.
And whatever waited between here and there.
Erica leaned back slightly, staring up into the empty space of Sanctuary for a second.
“…this life really hates me.”
Then she pushed herself upright again, determination settling back into place.
“Alright,” she said under her breath.
“If it’s a horse… then I guess I’m finding a horse.”
Because one way or another—
She had somewhere she needed to be.