First person

It was a Monday like any other when “They made me do it” came into Toby’s life. He returned home, as usual, receiving the standard warm hug and kiss from his mother. With his customary grunt in response to her inquiries about his day, he retreated to his bedroom.

Crashing into his room, he dropped his bag, closed the door, and powered up his gaming console. And there it was on his TV screen—the “They made me do it” game. It was unsettling not only because of its strange, symbolic artwork but also because Toby had no recollection of installing it. The mysticism of this new game made it impossible to resist. He donned his VR headset and selected “Play.”

Toby found himself in the most immersive virtual reality experience he had ever encountered. He briefly lifted the headset to confirm it was just a game, then slowly lowered it again to survey his virtual surroundings. He stood in a kitchen, gazing at an open drawer containing a large knife. He pushed the drawer shut, and a message appeared: “Game over! Retry?”

This time, Toby picked up the knife. He turned to see a man with grey hair, glasses, and a goatee beard. “Are you okay?” the stranger asked with genuine concern. Toby waited for a prompt to respond, but it never came. Instead, he walked past the man, searching for something else to interact with. Once more, the message flashed on the screen: “Game over! Retry?”

On his third attempt, Toby turned and faced the concerned stranger again, hearing whispers in his head, urging him to act: “Do it,” “Just do it,” “End it.” Without conscious thought, Toby thrust the knife into the man’s chest. After the first blow, an unfamiliar sensation engulfed him. This was unlike any video game he had played before. He felt sick, and his head began to spin. He hastily removed the equipment and rushed to the toilet to vomit. “Are you okay?” his mother called from the stairs. “The… g-g-g-game,” he stammered.

Toby’s mother entered his room first, with the shaking boy following gingerly behind. The television screen displayed the console’s home screen. “What!?!” exclaimed Toby. He frantically searched the game library but found no reference to “They made me do it.” “I swear, Mum.” “It’s okay, dear. Just turn it off, okay?” For once, Toby didn’t argue.

Toby failed to sleep that night. The vivid imagery of that kitchen danced relentlessly through his head. The next morning, he descended drearily into the living room, where his mother was watching the morning news. Despite his grogginess, his senses sharpened rapidly when he heard the reporter mention a “fatal stabbing.” They sharpened further when the victim’s photo appeared on the screen—the same man from the video game. “Police are questioning the man’s wife, who was found at the scene. Witnesses say she was hysterical, insisting on her innocence.”

A cold pulse ran down Toby’s spine. He knew the wife was innocent, and he kept repeating to himself, “But they made me do it!” Toby staggered to the kitchen for some water, his mother following closely behind. “Oh, sweetheart, what is it?” she inquired, rubbing his back to offer comfort. Toby felt himself calming down. He noticed his mother’s touch had ceased. He drank directly from the tap and splashed his face. Turning to his mother, he found her standing over the kitchen drawer. “Mum… Mum… what is it, Mum?” He approached her and placed his hand on her shoulder. She turned to face him, and her eyes were no longer hers. Instead of the caring blue eyes, they were as black as tar. “Mum?” Toby asked as he caught a glimpse of the knife she held. The last thing he felt was the cold steel of the knife entering his heart. The last thing he saw was “game over.” The last thing he heard was his mother’s screams.