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MidReal Story
Alpha King Konig
Scenario:Konig was one one oft he military men GG had a crush on from her favorite game Call Of Duty. She knows it's ridiculous to have a crush on a guy from a video game, that is until the day Konig becomes real and enters GG's life
Create my version of this story
GG
she wears glasses and she's a little bit on the chubby side but she's very cute and sweet with a shy personality.
Konig
GG’s Love
Konig
My first love was Dick.
Dick wasn’t a real person, but he was the first one I had a crush on.
My second love was Vladimir.
He wasn’t real either.
Then there was Yuri, Vladik, Sebastian, Konstantin, Gunnery, Victor, Milo, Chino, Montage, Reaper, and finally, Ghost.
You guessed it – they weren’t real either.
What did all these guys have in common?
They were all characters from my favorite game, Call Of Duty.
Yeah, I know – it’s stupid to have a crush on a guy from a game.
But what are you going to do?
I guess I’m just that kind of girl – the kind who has a crush on a character from a video game.
It’s crazy – I know.
But what if I told you that one day my crushes became real?
That day started just like any other.
I woke up early, grabbed my coffee, sat at my desk, turned on my computer, and started to play.
I was so engrossed in the game that I didn’t even hear the knock at my door.
I leaned back in my gaming chair, my heart pounding from the last match.
I had just killed someone with a knife to the back of his head and was waiting for the next guy to come around the corner.
The knock on my door made me jump.
My headset slipped from my ears and I had to push it back up.
Another knock came.
This time it was more insistent.
I checked the time – 2:47 AM.
Nobody comes to visit at that hour of the morning.
My hands were shaking as I removed my headset and placed it on my desk.
The room seemed colder than it had been before.
I stood up from my desk, my legs stiff from sitting for so long.
I walked slowly to the door, my bare feet making no noise on the carpeted floor.
Another knock came – this one louder than before.
"Who is it?" I called out, my voice barely steady.
"It's Yuri," came the reply, a familiar accent that sent a shiver down my spine.
"Yuri? From the game?" I whispered, disbelief mingling with a strange thrill.
"Open the door, little one," he said, his voice deep and commanding.
I cracked open the door, keeping the chain lock in place.
A tall figure stood in the hallway, dressed in black tactical gear that seemed to absorb the dim light of the corridor.
He was dressed exactly like Yuri from Modern Warfare 3.
My eyes widened as I took in his sharp features – the strong jaw, the piercing blue eyes, and that cocky half-smile that sent a flutter through my chest.
But it was the AK-47 slung casually across his broad shoulders that made my heart pound even harder.
I shook my head, trying to clear it.
This couldn’t be real.
It had to be some kind of prank.
But what if it wasn’t?
What if my gaming fantasy had become reality?
I was torn between slamming the door shut and calling campus security or letting this Yuri into my room and seeing if my wildest dreams had come true. "Aren't you going to invite me in?" he asked, his voice tinged with amusement.
"How do I know you're not just some crazy cosplayer?" I replied, trying to sound braver than I felt.
He chuckled softly, a sound that was both reassuring and unnerving.
"Because, little one, I know things about you that only the real Yuri would know."
My hand trembled as I reached for the chain lock.
Through the narrow gap, his piercing blue eyes tracked my movement.
The metal scraped against metal as I slid the chain free, each link clicking with a finality that seemed to echo through the empty hallway.
The door creaked open wider, revealing his full imposing frame in the dimly lit doorway.
He towered over me, the AK-47 slung across his broad shoulders catching the fluorescent light of the hallway.
The tactical vest he wore was worn and patched in all the same places I had seen countless times in-game.
My heart pounded in my chest as he took a step forward, his heavy boots sinking into my welcome mat.
My hand tightened its grip on the doorknob, my knuckles white with tension.
I pressed myself against the wall, making room for him to enter.
The vest he wore was adorned with all the same pouches and tools that I had seen in the game, each one rustling softly as he ducked under my doorframe.
His weapon scraped against the wooden doorframe, a soft screech that echoed through my small apartment.
He moved with practiced ease, his eyes scanning the room from corner to corner.
The smell of gunpowder and leather wafted in behind him, a scent that was both familiar and foreign.
My gaming setup cast an eerie blue glow across his face as he approached my desk.
He stopped in front of it, his gaze fixed on the screen where a Modern Warfare match was still paused.
My voice came out as a whisper, "I was in the middle of a match."
He didn’t respond, his attention still fixed on the screen.
He ran his gloved fingers over the keyboard, pausing at the W key that was worn down from countless matches.
The AK-47 shifted against his back as he turned to face me, his expression unreadable in the dim blue glow.
I was still pressed against the wall, my sweaty palm gripping the doorknob like a lifeline.
The fluorescent hallway light streamed in through my open door, casting long shadows across my carpet.
When he took a step toward me, his boot fell heavily on my favorite gaming magazine lying on the floor.
My voice came out as a trembling whisper, "I...I have all the issues."
The magazine crinkled under his boot as he shifted his weight.
His massive frame moved deliberately, closing the distance between us.
I pressed myself harder against the wall, the thin fabric of my pajama shirt no barrier to the cold surface.
The blue glow of my monitor cast an eerie light across his face, accentuating every sharp angle and plane.
He stopped in front of me, towering over me with his imposing height and broad shoulders.
His eyes were still fixed on mine, boring into my soul like a bullet.
And in that moment, I realized that they were exactly the same shade of piercing blue as they were in the game.
My voice quivered as I forced the question out, "W-who are you?"
The doorknob dug into my palm as I gripped it tighter.
Yuri’s massive frame shifted, the AK-47 scraping against his tactical vest as he took another step closer.
The blue monitor light caught his face at a new angle, illuminating a scar that ran from the corner of his eye to his hairline.
It was a scar I didn’t remember from the game.
His gloved hand reached into a pocket on his vest, the movement making me flinch.
The blue glow of my monitor cast an eerie light across his face as he pulled out a small USB drive.
He extended it toward me, the drive dangling between us like a deadly bullet.
His voice was low, almost a growl, "This holds the truth you’ve been seeking."
I hesitated, my mind racing, "The truth about what?"
His eyes locked onto mine, unwavering, "About why you were chosen."
My shaking fingers brushed against his calloused hand as I took the USB drive.
The metal felt cold and heavy in my palm, heavier than it should have been considering its small size.
The blue monitor light caught the scratched surface, revealing what looked like Russian text etched into the side.
I turned it over, trying to decipher the foreign script, but Yuri’s massive frame shifted, casting a shadow over my hand.
His tactical vest creaked as he leaned down, bringing his face closer to mine.
The smell of gunpowder was stronger now, and I could see that the scar on his face was fresh, still pink and healing.
Yuri's voice was barely above a whisper, "You were never just a player."
My heart pounded in my chest, "What do you mean?"
He leaned back slightly, his eyes never leaving mine, "You were part of the experiment."