Drianna lifted her sword from the bloodied corpse of the Thrang. The Harvest menu appeared above the creature’s body, and she selected the Thrang’s pelt, fangs, and the eye jewels from the list. The pack shifted on her back, the weight increasing when the objects added to her inventory.
The hairs on the back of her neck rose. She turned quickly. Brown leaves fell from the rattling trees as the wind shifted west. Her sharp eyes darted from bush to bush, but the shadows in the weak sunlight revealed no more creatures, Thrang or otherwise, though she glimpsed something out of the corner of her eye, and the feeling of being watched remained.
Thumbs limp on the controller, a low growl of frustration issued from Joe’s wobbly throat as his character did yet another random one-eighty.
With a jerking motion, he ripped the controller from the game console and turned on a lamp. He examined the handheld game controls. The buttons did not appear to have any looseness, sticks rotated just fine, bumpers bumped nominally.
Shaking his head, he tossed the controller into a box to the left of the couch, it smacked against the mound of discarded electronics that threatened to topple from the box. With a grunt, he leaned over and pulled a brand new controller from a different box.
“Second one this week,” he growled and glared at the console. He plugged in the new controller.
In the basement, Joe turned off the lamp. He looked back up at the screen, which glowed like a planet in the darkness of space, and turned his character from the Thrang’s corpse.