This friend of mine had this obsession about creating a game that was scary for me. I’d once casually mentioned that I probably wouldn’t be scared of anything that didn’t exist. He decided he wanted to disprove me.

He’d sneak up into my room at night with the collusion of my flatmate, and plug me into his virtual reality engine. And then he’d wake me up.

I used to be confused. For a while, I’d think I was dreaming. After all, I used to dream about monsters as a kid. And then I’d fight them, even while being hideously unequipped. At some point, I’d realise that I must be awake. I’d complete the game or die. It was simple enough.

Later, he began to put me into stories rather than games, in the hope that being unable to control my actions would scare me. But I’d always been a robust dreamer. It was all very entertaining. My friend was a pretty good storyteller.