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Really, Quinn had been perfectly content in his little room, door closed, holed up and playing video games like their storylines were food. Sometimes they might as well have been, considering how many meals he missed, but that was another thing entirely.

He never told his mother that he missed meals. He had, however, made the mistake of telling her that he'd made no lasting friends. He had no girlfriend. He never met with teachers after class. She just couldn't stand knowing that her precious son might be a social failure, so she'd begged and pleaded him to at least try. Surely there was no harm in trying!

"Right, mom. Yes, I love you too," he mumbled, hanging up his phone and wandering out towards the Study Area. He plopped down in one of the chairs when he reached it, waited approximately forty-five seconds, and slowly pulled out his DS. He was on level 9-9 of Scribblenauts. This required immediate attention.

There was no harm in people approaching him instead of vice versa...right? Mommy never had to know.

Game immersion taught him that something breathing behind him probably was going to be a creature that made him scream and turn all of the lights on again. Since he was not playing a scary video game, and the lights were already on, he imagined something drooling and horrifying behind him that would inevitably make him scream. Of course, it never once crossed his mind that it was just another student.

His gameplay slowed down significantly, but he was still managing to do relatively well until the thing spoke to him. And, obviously, he missed the green thing.

Horrified, he stood up with alarming speed and turned to see the alien/zombie/mutant/....hallmate. His wide eyes narrowed and his shocked expression turned into a partial scowl. This was why he never left his room. Now 9-9 would have to be entirely reconsidered, and while Scribblenauts was not the most difficult game he'd ever played, it still was a mar on his personal record.

"What are you doing here?" he demanded, realizing a moment too late how idiotic a question it was. "Er, wait...sorry, man. What's up?" That was a better attempt.

Remi was living through Quinn at the moment and gave a ‘aw’ when the little man died on the screen. He had been enjoying himself when the boy seemed to jolt, leap up, and turn on him. Surprised, he pushed off the couch, and the pair were standing face to face. It felt tense, and Remi fully expected to have a DS thrown at his head. It wouldn’t be the first time someone was annoyed with him, and some of the gifted students here could afford throwing around boxes of DSes if they wanted.

“Well, I..” The first question threw him off. What was he doing here? Last he heard, this place was still free to roam about in, and it seemed to dawn on the teen too. “Oh, that’s cool.” He waved off, before the little DS gave a pathetic whine that translated into 'kaput'. “Tough break. Seems it died.” But he spoke too soon, and the screen popped right back to life, and not just any at that. It showed Remi, a plus in his book, and Quinn. “Wow. I forget they came out with cameras. That’s neat.” He leaned in, looking at the screen and tapping it with his finger. His hair looked a mess, even worse than it usually did, and he patted it down before making a face at the screen.

“Does this thing record?” They could make one great mini movie and be hits on Youtube if he could rope Quinn into it.

Before they could record themselves staring puzzledly into the DS (something that never got you hits on YouTube no matter how goodlooking, charming or funny you were), their mirror images started to -- shift.

At first it was just looking a little like a funhouse mirror, or staring at yourself through a mangled lens. But then the changes started to become more apparent. With another sad weeee, their faces started to melt: everything faded into the background darkness except for how they looked, suddenly grotesque, suddenly metamorphing to become more monstrous, not human at all. Not human except for the eyes. The eyes remained the same: staring out of those hideous, disfigured faces, Quinn's eyes and Remi's eyes, staring out of supremely hideous features.

This did not change upon shaking.

Quinn did, in fact, have the warranty. He kept everything - even the boxes and the ridiculous little mailers that came inside - tucked responsibly away in the bottom of his closet. You just never knew when something might malfunction, and Nintendo was pretty willing to cooperate as long as you had the required paperwork.

But he was pretty sure a warranty wasn't going to do s**t in this situation. His eyes grew wider as he watched his face melt and contort into something way worse than anything out of Resident Evil.

"I...no kidding it's messed up!" he cried. He was no longer purposely shaking the handheld system, but his terrified hands were doing the job for him. It took a hell of a lot to tear his focus away from the safety and security of his games and consoles, but a possessed DS was more than effective. "Something's wrong. Really wrong. Oh, god, I need to call my mom." Because she could surely comfort him when he wailed that his face melted.

Desperately, his finger tugged at the power button, and he threw the DS across the floor before he checked to see if it had worked. It skidded to a stop only a couple of feet away, but he was glad to not be holding the hellspawned game anymore. Pulse racing, he turned to look at Remi.

"This isn't some sort of crazy joke, is it? I'm cool if it is, I'll forgive you right now, I swear. Just tell me."

At the last ‘whee’, Remi jumped on the couch and stayed there. He didn’t know if the DS could sprout wings, but he wasn’t moving until he was sure it was dead. After holding his breath a few moments, he crawled off the couch and reached for a Cosmo that was left by one of the girls. “If I don’t make it, try and move on.”

Curling the Cosmo and trying not to become distracted by ‘55 ways to please your man’, Remi moved over and knelt down, tapping the DS with the magazine before flipping it over. It flopped over, lifeless and it’s screen blank. No melting faces, dark shadows, or bizarre noises.

“Well, it looks dead, but we should be safe.” Reaching down, he unraveled the magazine and shoved the DS onto it. It was a good thing girls read a lot as it held up the DS as he lifted it off the ground, holding it at a distance to his face. “I say we dig a whole 3 feet deep, stab some nails in this thing, bury it, and then put a rock on top. It’s the only way we can be sure it won’t come back to seek it’s revenge.” He was sure that once Quinn explained that his DS had been possessed and had to be buried for everyone’s well-being that the Nintendo Corporation would honor their contract and give him a less demonic version of the DS he had.

He could see a man in great loss, and breathing out, he went over and set his hand on his shoulder. “You’re doing a good thing here, man. Not only for the school's safety, but more importantly, MY safety. That means a lot to me. I know in the end, when it really matters, you’ll be there to make sacrifices. If I had to be in a room again with a Nintendo from hell, I hope it’s you I’m jumping on the couch with.” He patted Quinn hard on the back, flashing a grin.

“Don’t worry. Think of it as a new opportunity. A chance to find the DS of your dreams that won’t try and show you life-damaging images on it’s screen. I’m sure there is a nice DS out there for a special boy like you. Hell, I’ll even help you find it, but for now, I’m going to try breaking this thing into a million pieces and see if anyone has some holy water. Laters.” Turning, Remi held out the magazine and marched down the hall. He was on a mission to find a shovel.