1. Hector.
By: Sam Bramlett
Knight-Enchanter Hector surveys the field. Everywhere he sees Templars
and Orcs in battle. The grey of steel and iron a stark contrast to the amber and
crimson of body’s aflame and throats freshly opened. He checks his inventory.
“Hmm, well I’ve already got the sunless staff equipped. It’s got a lower damage-per-
second rating than the hoarfrost staff but it’s also got plus twelve constitution. I
might need that extra health on this raid.” Knight-Enchanter Hector’s thought
process is interrupted as the tank in his party, Xxdea7h_reap3rxX, screams into the
microphone “what the fuck are you doing you faggot, even your mom was faster
than you when I got her in bed last night and she’s fat as hell!”
Hector put down the controller. His thumbs left with indentations from
where the analog sticks pressed into them. Unplugging his microphone and
powering off his console, he turns and walks to the window on the other side of his
bedroom. He hasn’t been on his game today. Across the street, on the third floor of
the apartment complex across from his own, he can see the window. The window of
the girl who said “hi” to him the other day while he was walking out to the street to
pay for his pizza-hut. The remnants of which still sat in the corner of his one room
apartment. One could hardly notice it though amongst all the other fast food bags
and cigarette butts littering the apartment.
“What am I going to do Kim?” said Hector to the poster he had recently
purchased of the Kardashian sister showing her derriere. “She was so cute. Her hair
looked so nice. She had an amazing rack. How could I ever get her to notice me?”

2. moving to his work desk, where he created his models, an idea struck him. Maybe I’ll
make her a model of Bulma, he thought, I could tell her a cool line like “I’ll be your
Vegeta baby” she’d be all over me, but then he reconsidered, has she ever even
heard of DragonBall? She hasn’t. Hector lit a cigarette as he surveyed his vast
collection of models, painstakingly purchased and assembled. All of his favorite
characters from anime and videogames. The cigarette burned. The ashes growing as
the bright orange ringlet continued its trek along the thin tube of tobacco. Smoke
filled his apartment, already home to the scent of decaying fast food and remnants of
cigarettes long burned.
He turned and opened his window. Songs of cicadas came in on the breeze.
The sun reflected off the glass now moved, and flung its light into his room at a new
angle. It was now impossible to see his computer screen from the glare. He adjusted
the window so that the light would land a foot to the right, saving his screen’s
visibility.
Knight-Enchanter Hector sat as well. The cold steel rim of his flagon pressed
against his lips. He was cavorting with his companions in the local tavern. A bard
sang a sad song in the background about a soldier who missed her husband. They
were celebrating a hard won victory over the Fereldan Frostback, one of fourteen
high dragons in the game. It was the lowest level of the fourteen, but considering
that most players never even attempted to battle high dragons, it was an immense
accomplishment. The Knight-Enchanter spied his party member Cassandra, a
Templar, across the room. He moved towards her. Set on advancing her questline
and possibly developing a romance between them.

3. Hector stopped. He had become aware for a moment that his character was
much more adept at socializing than he was. It ruined the immersion. Once the
illusion snapped, his awareness of the situation he was in left him with a profound
loneliness.
He didn’t normally feel that way. Over the years, he had trained himself not
to focus on such negative things. He had learned, through great trial and effort, to
completely let go of himself and enjoy what he could. The scope of things he felt he
could enjoy however, were limited. Videogames, browsing the Internet, and viewing
pornography made up the better part of his day. When he wasn’t doing these things,
he was either asleep, or at his job as a cashier at the local Food Lion.
Memories of the girl in passing were driving him. Feeding his desire. He
couldn’t focus on his game any longer. His thoughts of the girl were even getting in
the way of his relationship with Cassandra. Why would she say “Hi” to him? She
didn’t have to; she’d been far enough away to avoid acknowledging him at all, as
most women did.
The keys typed as if by themselves, they knew in which order to press. The
letters they represented were partly faded from the constant use. Pornography was
the answer. When things got tough, big tits and mindless sex always made him feel
better. As if all the stress he had was overpowered by the conflagration of lust.
A dream-catcher hangs above Hector’s bed, as the song of cicada’s now
competes with the cheesy, elevator-type jazz of soft-core porn. The faux-Indian
artifact had been a gift from his older brother when Hector was a small child. It was
one of the only kind things his brother had done for him. Though perhaps he had

4. given it to Hector to shut him up, as his screaming nightmares had grown quite
frequent. His brother had always disapproved of Hector. Constantly berating him for
playing videogames instead of basketball with the rest of the neighborhood kids.
Though Hector likened the relationship with his brother to that of the bully and the
nerd, it was apparent to many that Hector’s preference of the virtual world was the
cause. His brother simply felt rejected. Hector’s constant refusal to interact with him
drove him to lash out in attempts to catch Hector’s attention, if but for a moment.
The light in her room just turned on, he can see through his window. The
laptops blue light illuminating his otherwise dark apartment. Cicadas no longer sing.
Light no longer reflects upon his window. Hector sits in his chair, leaning back. Wind
dances with the curtains on its way into the room. Wind also breaks as Hector leans
to one side. The wind from the window dries the sweat from the rolling dunes of his
skin. The lewd noises, which but recently subsided. Call to him. Torn, he ponders.
Lights shifts across his glasses as his chair spins to look at the door of his apartment.
A coat hangs next to it. Somewhat fresh buffalo sauce stain above it’s left waist
pocket. It turns again to view the blue light of his laptop. He scrolls through the long
list of videos. Apparently there are hot, sexy singles in his area dying to have sex
with him. A moment of weakness spurs him to click on one of the ads. He is greeted
to a site of pop ups promising an incredible increase in the size of his member if he
but follows five easy steps. He closes the window. Then turns to the window. Then
out his window he looks at the window of the girl, who he is somewhat sure is
single. He knows she is hot and sexy. He looks back at his door and to his coat

5. hanging. The breeze now tickles his bare backside. Why not go to knock on her
door? Why not actually meet a hot, sexy single?
Hector’s first encounter with pornography had occurred in middle school.
His friend Charles, a young black man with whom he shared lunch while geeking
about their favorite anime, had told him of an incredible site. He didn’t tell him what
was on it; he simply insisted that Hector look it up when he got home. Hector sat at
his mother’s computer while finishing his homework of the day. Remembering the
sage advice of Charles, he typed each letter of the site in question then pressed
enter. Hector had never seen a vagina before. Sure, he had been given all the
speeches and shown all the diagrams while he was in elementary school, but it was
not until this moment while looking at an X-rated version of his favorite cartoon that
he had ever seen it. He knew he felt attraction, but to what? He had always pictured
it closer to the rear and far less overt. He thought that these women had been cut,
the fact that they were spreading them and sticking things into them made him
think the site was made for people who enjoyed pain, whom he had heard about
somewhere. Upon conferring with Charles the next day, he was assured that they
were not cuts, but were in fact vaginas. Everything he thought he knew about the
world shattered at such a revelation that that was what they looked like. From that
day forward, Hector resolved to learn more about them. So he visited the site. He
visited the site constantly. All this was wild and grand. He was discovering his
sexuality. He was pioneering into the world of eroticism and women. It was at this
moment in life that he learned he did not know how to masturbate. He figured it out
one night while studying the picture of a blonde sports illustrated swimsuit model

6. that was having difficulty properly adjusting her life preserver. With the two pieces
of this pornographic puzzle now finally in place, it was all she wrote for Hector.
The Knight-Enchanter, fresh from a victory over the Eminent One’s demon
army at Adamant fortress, found his lady Cassandra beating a dummy-enemy with a
sword, as she always did. It was odd; Hector thought, that the non-playable
characters completed the same task over and over again while they weren’t out
fighting. The Knight-Enchanter had been courting Cassandra since the beginning of
the game. He had meticulously strategized the best things to say to win her over,
and he believed he had finally done it.
Hector couldn’t take it. Why spend so much time trying to build a
relationship with a woman who was not real? Though he adored the virtual
creature, he craved the real thing. Try as he might however, his youthful pursuits
had ended only in rejection. It was because of his lack of social prowess, he thought.
He should have spent more time playing with his brother and the other
neighborhood kids. Since he missed out on that, he had neglected to learn the
proper social cues. Therefore, he thought, he was screwed. Or perhaps the problem
was that he wasn’t. That was what he told himself anyway. A part of him called such
thought hogwash and felt that if he were to simply open up to a person he would
find such a friend. He should have paid more heed to that solitary part.
Mornings for Hector involve microwaved breakfast sandwiches and bad
television as he prepares to go to work. Food Lion is an incredible place to work.
Hector stands in place for eight hours, scanning packages of food and placing them
neatly in bags at the end of the little conveyor belt. Occasionally he will be tasked

7. with cleaning spills or even attending to lost children. His attendance has suffered
recently, as his near constant playing of the new game Dragon’s Era has extended
into the mornings. This is the third time Hector has shown up late for work all week.
His boss Mark takes him aside as he enters, wearing the blue collared shirt and
wrinkled khakis he always did. He hated the pants. They were a bit too tight and
always accentuated the protrusion of his belly. Mark tells him that if he doesn’t get
his act together he might have to fire Hector soon. Hector doesn’t do well with
stressors. Hearing he’s close to being fired causes the pits and back of the blue
collared shirt to darken with sweat. It is a long day at work.
Amid the monotony of constant scanning he looks up. Brown hair, shoulder
length. Dark brown eyes. Cheeks somewhat pronounced, accentuating the mouth.
Much shorter than Hector, maybe five-three. Large bust. Medium build. Wide hips.
Hector blushes at the sight of the girl from a day ago. He wonders if she remembers
him. Her cart contains steak, spaghetti noodles, Degree women’s deodorant,
Charmin brand toilet paper, a six-pack of San Pellegrino, as well as a six-pack of
Miller Lite, and a box of Tampax brand tampons. Hector handles each item with
care, afraid to look her in the face. He wants to ask her name. He begins to stutter
the words, but nothing comes out. He is paralyzed by the possibility of yet another
rejection. He wants her so much. Not just sex, though. He certainly finds her sexually
attractive. However, she is one of the only people in his life who have acknowledged
him in a way that wasn’t negative. Hector wants her to be his friend. He bagged each
item with incredible purpose, as if his good work as cashier would impress her. He
says nothing. She pays him. In a stroke of luck, she hands Hector a credit card.

8. Hector glances at the name on the card as he swipes it through his machine. Elsie.
The name fills him with warmth. It is the most beautiful name he has ever heard.
Blushing, stammering, fresh sweat stains on his shirt glistening, Hector hands Elsie
her card back. She smiles at him and says “Thank you” as she leaves. Hector adjusts
his glasses and watches her. Heart fluttering. Elsie acknowledged him. The
happiness he feels is matched only by the pain of letting her go. What stopped him
from talking to her? Was he so afraid of living women that he couldn’t even ask her
how she was?
The Knight-Enchanter makes love to Cassandra. Hector admires her virtual
body. After a short cut-scene, Hector is given the option of what to say. “I love you,”
said the Knight-Enchanter. Hector got a kick out of the romance between Knight
Enchanter and the Templar Cassandra. He thought it was an interesting dynamic
since Knight-Enchanters were mages and Templars were warriors devoted to
hunting apostate mages down. He felt that his character’s romance with a Templar
would somehow bridge the gap, perhaps allowing Templars and mages to get along.
But enough of politics.
Cicadas. Window open. A laptop promising him sexy singles yet again. Hector
looks across the street at the apartment belonging to Elsie. Perhaps he could just
walk over there and knock. Say hello to her for once. Maybe see if she wants to hang
out sometime. The flat reverberating buzz of the cicadas fills the silence of his
thoughts. It overwhelms him. He wants to leave the apartment. To walk over there
and throw himself at her. Not literally, that would be assault. He wants to open up to
her, tell her everything he feels for her. Given, he doesn’t know anything about her

9. other than she’s kind enough to acknowledge a chubby, somewhat disheveled geek
wearing glasses. But to Hector, such a woman is more than he could ever hope for.
He wants to do all of this. His chest hurts. He’s sweating. His apartment is ten feet
long. He paces back and forth. Unsure of how to move forward. The laptop open. It
shows a young Asian woman using produce in ways nature didn’t intend. Sexy
singles were in his area. He reaches to his model of Master chief for support. What
would Master chief do? What would the Knight-Enchanter do? Hector knows the
answer. They would go over there and knock on that door. They would sweep her
off her feet and read her poetry and give her flowers. They would pronounce their
love for her and she would follow suit. They would get the girl. They would at least
try. They’re heroes though, thinks Hector. They are capable, thin, attractive people
who like all the right things. They are whom everyone loves. Hector is loved by no
one.
He thinks back to Elsie smiling at him. She didn’t seem to find him repulsive.
She seemed nice. Like the kind of girl who wouldn’t judge a book by it’s cover. The
kind of girl who would kick back and share drinks with him. He wants it. So bad.
Everything hurts.
On the street everything is quiet. The cicadas are asleep. The crickets take
their place. There is rain on the ground. Pools of light circle around four or five
streetlamps on the block. The wind between the two windows feels better, more
alive. He reaches halfway across the street.
The sun rises. The microwave alerts Hector to his hot and ready breakfast
sandwich. It’s a Saturday. He doesn’t have to go to work. A relief. The window is

10. closed. It was too cold. Cicadas now muffled. The apartment reeks of cigarette
smoke. The trash bin overflows with spent tissues. The screen of his laptop now
asks him if he’s willing to have sex with older women. When he clicks on it, he’s
redirected to a page where the porn star Ron Jeremy offers to show him how to
enlarge his penis. Hector gets up to turn off the light. He then draws the curtains. He
finishes his sandwich in the white-blue darkness of his room. Hector spends fifteen
minutes masturbating. Hector plays his videogame. He has started a new character.
He now avoids Cassandra. He’s made that mistake once before. He can hear people
walking past his door. Off to enjoy their Saturday. Hector plugs in his headphones.
For a moment he hears a woman’s voice. It reminds him of Elsie. A painful thought
wracks his mind. I’m going to die alone.
He lights a cigarette as he faces his laptop. He types in each key that will lead
him to his current favorite porn site. Hector tries to forget about everything. That
was the issue in the first place. He had become too aware of himself. If he could just
avoid that, it wouldn’t hurt anymore. He clicks on a video. As it transitions, the
screen goes black. Hector sees a heavy, bespectacled man staring back at him. He
shuts the laptop. He crawls back in bed, eyes tearing up. The cicadas still sing softly
through the closed window.
Word Count: 3079