Collision Course [+ Additional Levels]

Level Fourteen - Strange Feelings

His friend tossed his hands in the air. "I'm done," he declared, turning and walking away.

"Where are you going?" Andrew asked him, witnessing this passive-aggressive rage-quit take place.

"I'm going to go lose at some other game," Moe answered him sullenly.

He laughed, looking at him sympathetically. "I wish you luck!" he called.

Moe lifted a hand to him in acknowledgment without turning or breaking his stride. "Yeah, yeah, sure."

Andrew took one last at him before chuckling and shaking his head. "Poor guy. He'll get around," he said to himself, turning back around to play another round of Popeye.

Moe stepped out of the mouth of the row of arcade games that he just was in. There were four main rows, where the machines were lined up side by side to the walls, leaving a walkway that cut through the center for easy access. The four rows were technically made up of eight rows (which Moe knew must have cost the owner a pretty penny), but the machines were positioned so that they were back to back for more space. The end of the walkway opened up to a resting area. Pinball machines were lined up against the right wall, but other than that, it was pretty spacious. Two wooden tables with benches for seating were placed in the middle of the room, the benches facing the coin-op machines and the other wall, with a decent sized gap between them for walking past. The tables had a picnic-feel, and looked like they should be outside. The left wall opened up to another room with more arcade games, and against the other wall was a few vending machines and a long bench.

The rows of coin-op arcades that Moe was standing in were actually organized, so people could easily find the kind of game that they wanted to play. At that moment, after failing in Donkey Kong, Moe felt like he was in the mood for something like Pengo. But then he thought about it, and felt more drawn to Space Invaders, or some Asteroids, so he headed for the third row on the right, where he knew would be the space games. (Since they were first-timers, the guy at the desk had proudly offered some tips on how to find certain stuff. Also, after a quick casual tour through the place―which was really just him and Andrew wandering around a bit aimlessly―spotting games like Galaga, Space Ace and Space Duel had helped him with the aisle's identification.) He dodged parents and other teenagers, as he went on the way to the destination ahead.

That's when something strange happened.

Moe's breaths drew short, feeling his chest tighten. He frowned, and rubbed his shirt, slowing down his pace. He didn't think that he was claustrophobic, or anything like that, the last time he checked. Then the room blurred around him. And darkened. Moe stopped walking, and looked around the room, his hand pressed against his chest. It was like the lights in the arcade were dimming. Nobody else seemed to have noticed though, and he realized with a sinking feeling that it was just him.

He suddenly felt his chest tighten again. It was a startling sensation that caused him to gasp out loud; it felt as if somebody behind him had just wrapped their arms around him in a tight bear hug, squeezing the air out of him. Moe stumbled, and he let out a small grunt as his back hit against the side of an arcade game. Nobody seemed to notice, so nobody looked at him funny or tried to help. Moe hunched over, wrapping his arms around himself and trying to catch his breath. The room only continued to darken, until he could barely make out his feet from the carpeted floor. Was this it? Was he going crazy? Was he losing it?

With a gasp, Moe finally found himself breathing normally again. He straightened, resting against the side of the coin-op game. He frowned in confusion when he looked around himself, seeing the dark room. People had turned into shadows, merely shifting shapes in the darkness. He felt something bothering him, a nagging itch about his surroundings, something that was also different―besides the obvious one about the lighting. It took him a couple seconds to figure out what it was. It was the sounds of the arcade. They had changed, or more like, he couldn't hear them―at least, not very well. It felt as if someone had clasped their hands over his ears. No, it felt more like someone was holding pillows over his ears. Everything was muffled. The clinks of coins, the chatter, shouts and laughter, the songs and sound effects from the games, the background music―all of it. Muffled.