Just Creepy: Scary Stories - TECHNOLOGY IS NOT YOUR FRIEND! | True Scary REDDIT Stories, Dark Web, Cryptid, Cave Exploring

Episode Date: April 27, 2023

TECHNOLOGY IS NOT YOUR FRIEND! | True Scary REDDIT Stories, Dark Web, Cryptid, Cave Exploring Linktree: https://linktr.ee/its_just_creepy Dr. Squatch -$10 OFF! https://tinyurl.com/2n5w57sr Story Credits: ►https://www.reddit.com/user/ksjeepfreak/ ►https://www.reddit.com/user/JLGoodwin1990/ Music by: ► Myuu's channel http://bit.ly/1k1g4ey ►CO.AG Music http://bit.ly/2f9WQpe TECHNOLOGY IS NOT YOUR FRIEND! | True Scary REDDIT Stories, Dark Web, Cryptid, Cave Exploring Linktree: https://linktr.ee/its_just_creepy Dr. Squatch -$10 OFF! https://tinyurl.com/2n5w57sr 💀Do you like Scary Stories? 💀 ► Check out the latest JUST CREEPY gear: https://just-creepy-merchandise.creator-spring.com/ Subscribe Today! ► https://www.youtube.com/channel/UClZEjVu7hZL7FfERd60azTw?sub_confirmation=1 You can submit your own story to my Website, email, or subreddit: ►https://www.justcreepy.net/ ►[e-mail] ►https://www.reddit.com/r/justcreepystories/ Paypal Donation: Any amount is appreciated :) ►https://www.paypal.me/justcreepy Support the Podcast: 😁 Itunes► https://tinyurl.com/5bprz7b4 Spotify► https://tinyurl.com/39r3866w Join this channel to get access to perks: ►https://www.youtube.com/channel/UClZEjVu7hZL7FfERd60azTw/join Support me on Patreon: ►https://www.patreon.com/justcreepy Follow me here: ►Twitch: https://www.twitch.tv/justcreepydc ►Twitter: https://twitter.com/Its_Just_Creepy ►Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/its_just_creepy/?hl=en ►Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/justcreepy/ Story Credits: ►https://www.reddit.com/user/ksjeepfreak/ ►https://www.reddit.com/user/JLGoodwin1990/ Music by: ► Myuu's channel http://bit.ly/1k1g4ey ►CO.AG Music http://bit.ly/2f9WQpe Thumbnail art: ►Just Creepy Free HD Stock-Footage and Motion Graphics by CyberWebFX ►https://www.youtube.com/c/CyberWebFX Vesvarute: https://www.pexels.com/video/close-up-shot-of-burning-firewood-3941731/ Business inquiries: ►[e-mail] #redditstories #horrorstories #scarystories 💀As always thanks for watching! 💀

I got into cave exploring with my friends a few months ago. It was a blast until last weekend. I now wish I had never gotten into it at all. At first, we found some local easily findable ones that provided just enough of a challenge to look forward to going again. None of the ones that we visited at first seemed like there was any cause for concern, or even held a whiff of danger. The first cave we went to is a relatively popular one,

just about 30 minutes from our town. We took about four hours to complete the unguided tour of the cave system. All the chambers were well above eight feet in clearance and nearly impossible to get lost in. There is also a ranger station nearby that checks the caves and most of the chambers at the end of the day so that nobody could get left behind the closed and locked gate. It was a blast. We had so much fun we all agreed to do it again the next weekend, and every weekend that we all could go together, barring any family or work commitments.

It continued like this over the next couple of months. We went further and further away from home, once even spending the night camping, so we could make a weekend of it during the early summer. That cave was awesome, and while it was a bit on the more advanced side of things, we did all the exploring we wanted to with no injuries whatsoever. If you don't count scrapes and minor cuts and bruises. Last week I was doing some research on bigger, more complex cave systems in the northeast, and came across a very helpful website plotting all the best ones to visit.

I found that the website did, in fact, have a rating system that should have been followed. I didn't follow it. I'm single, the two buddies I usually go caving with are both married with like five kids between them. I wanted to head out to one system that was a few hours away from our town, but neither one of them could make it that weekend. I told them that I would go up, check it out, and report back to them if it was worth taking a closer look. The weather was supposed to be spectacular and warm, perfect to camp out overnight. They both told me that it wasn't a good idea to go alone. I told them not to worry, I wasn't going to do anything stupid.

I was barely even going to go in any of them, just poke my head in, take a look around, jot some notes down, mark some coordinates for easier retracing of steps. Easy stuff. I drove up before sunrise on the weekend morning, getting to the area indicated on the map. park my jeep and began setting up a nice comfortable campsite. I finished around 10.30 in the morning. I didn't think that anyone would mess with my stuff while I was out exploring. I strapped my pack on.

With my map in hand, I set off for the base of the small, but nevertheless impressive mountain range that I was currently at the base of. I was walking down the trail for just over an hour, heading for the indicated entrance to one of the systems I wanted to check out. I noticed something at the base of a large rock that looks like, like it had fallen down from somewhere up higher a millennia ago. It looked out of place to me, like it was deliberately placed at the foot of that giant rock.

I walked over to the spot and began probing around with the handle of my climbing axe, stabbing the sharp spike into the center of the off-color patch of whatever it was. Thunk, what the hell? I said out loud. I got down on my haunches and began, in earnest, to probe and lift the cover revealing an entrance descending down into nearly total darkness.

Now you might be telling yourself as you listen to this, you deserve whatever you get for going down there. And you may be right, but nobody deserves what I saw down there. I stood above the hole, hand on my backpack straps, staring down into the abyss. A thousand thoughts raced through my mind, none of them were helpful in the slightest. The rational side said rather loudly, do not go down there. The adventurous side said almost in a whisper, you only live once. I shrugged off my pack, did a quick but thorough inventory of its contents. Satisfied, I tied a 50-foot length of climbing rope to the top,

carrying the handle of it and slowly lowered it down into the darkness. I tied the rope with a sturdy clove hitch around a tree, cracked a chem light, and dropped it into the hole. It fell for about a second, bouncing off the stone floor, and skittering off into the darkness, barely illuminating my swaying backpack in the air. I got on my belly, pulling out my trusty one, 1,000 lumen flashlight, pointing it into the darkness and blasting everything in bright light. The chamber below me seemed like it was about 35 feet below as my pack was barely swaying just above the floor.

I could see that the chem light I dropped had bounced into what looked like a natural archway and came to a rest against the wall. I could see it glowing brightly from my current vantage point. Screw it. I said to myself, grabbing the rope and began lowering myself down. Once safely on the floor of the chamber, I unzipped my main compartment and pulled out my helmet equipped with a petzel 500-lumin headlimp. This thing had cost nearly a hundred bucks, but it could use both a rechargeable battery, of which I had four fully charged spares tucked away in my left pocket of my adventure vest, but it also took two batteries, 24 of which I had stored in my pack. I also kept four of them in each front pocket, enough of juice to last for nearly three days of continuous running. I also kept a 1,000-lumin flashlight clipped to my vest, one that had plenty of battery to keep that thing on for hours at a time.

I put my pack back on, snowed it tightly down, and began to creep around the chamber looking for any signs of animal life. I found none and began to sketch a quick little map as I went along in my field notebook, complete with some rough dimensions of the chamber. I cracked another chem light placing it directly at the foot of my rope, and knowing these things last for a few hours before looking. losing their light completely. I figured that would be a good enough signal beacon to guide me back to my rope just in case. I had about two dozen chem lights in my side pocket of my pack, easily accessible without having to remove the pack at all. I cracked one about every 50 or so feet, making sure that the last one could be seen before placing a new one on the floor, a trail of light bright crumbs, if you will. I came into a large, spacious cavern. Looking around with 500 lumens,

it lit up the chamber quite well, just some dancing shadows lurking in the far reaches of the light's capabilities. I could hear water dripping or running off to my left, and a nice breeze was coming in from behind me just to my right side. That's when I heard a sound that chilled me to the core. The sound came from what it seemed like directly ahead of me. I froze in place barely breathing, straining my ears to hear. In chambers like the one I currently found myself in, the sounds bounce around like a super ball. Pinpointing a sound down here is nearly impossible. The sound sounded animal-like, but not quite. I keep a fixed blade knife clipped to my belt in the scout carry position. I reached for it and pulled out the well-honed blade from its sheath, gloved hand gripping the

comfortable handle tightly. My head was on a swivel looking about in a near-dizzing display of shadows and light. I had to see the origin of that sound. Maybe it was a wounded animal that I would be able to help. I crept forward, nearly silent as a cat. I could begin to see another entrance into another tunnel pass. I slowly mad my way to the entrance of the passageway. I had cracked two more chemlights walking across the nearly 50 feet expanse of the chamber. I placed one at the entrance to the hallway. Pulling out my flashlight, I turned it onto the max brightness and moved on. The hallway wasn't as long as I had anticipated, maybe 25 feet or so. It spilled out into a much smaller chamber with several off-shoote hallways, leading to God only knows where.

What I saw in the center of that chamber looked to be right out of a horror movie. Piles of bones, antlers, scraps of hide, and rotten flesh. I stood rooted to the stone floor, unable to move. I looked around in horror at the several hallways, realizing that they weren't passages, but more like smaller living chambers. You could see to the rear of each of them with my powerful beam of light. That is when I heard that sound again, this time much closer. It came from the far left sub-chamber, I'm sure if it.

My head snapped to the direction of that horrific sound, and I could see four glowing yellow eyes blinking back at me. Less intense light from my helmet was able to make out a rough shape of whatever stood about 20 or so feet directly in front of me. It was small about four feet in height and oddly shaped. It stood upright-ish, not fully standing, but close enough. It didn't appear to have any fur. It was white like it has never been in the sun, white.

I snapped my more powerful light to the pair. I wish I hadn't. I got a good look at them this time. I nearly dropped my light from sheer revulsion. What I saw can't be explained. They were humanoid, but clearly not human. They both had huge oval eyes that squinted and almost closed as my powerful beam focused on them.

The bigger of the two, I can only assume, was the male, or whatever, screeched that awful sound. and clawed at the air in front of its eyes. A smaller one retreated back into the blackness of its chamber, whimpering as it did. At that point, I heard another sound coming from the right of me snapping my head in that direction. I saw three more of them hobble into the larger chamber. One big one, one, one smaller one, and a very small but equally terrifying child-sized one. This little one made a sound that could break glass when my 1,000-lumin light hit its more sensitive eyes.

I don't know what these things were, maybe an off-shirt-old. of evolution, a freak of nature. I have no idea. I began to back out of that smaller chamber forgetting about the pile of bones that was behind me. I tripped and stumbled over some of the loose bones. And that is when I saw it. A skull with a gold tooth in lay. No, I began yelling, deigning my solid footing again. I swept the light around, seeing only three of the five previously seen creatures. I had no idea where they had gone in the few seconds that my light wasn't trained on them. I turned and ran towards the big chamber, hearing a shriek behind me as I gained speed. I blasted out of that hallway, only to find that all of the chem lights that I had

placed along my short trail had been piled up in the center of the bigger chamber. They were not just piled up, but they were placed in a way that could only show some kind of intelligence. Since there was only one way to go, I ran for it. I could hear slapping of flesh on the stone floor, behind me. I'm about six foot too and have a pretty good build. I take rather long strides while walking and much bigger ones while running. Those tiny creatures couldn't keep up with my much faster legs. I ran toward the small glimpse of light that I could see. It was about 75 feet in front of me, coming from the entrance from which I went in.

Shrieking continued behind me as well as slapping feet on stone. I sprinted towards the light and I entered the first chamber. The big male was waiting for me at the entrance. Its back turned to the light. I dropped my shoulder and ran full force into its torso, leveling it in one savage blow, barely even slowing down. It got one good swiping on me, furrowing my right forearm, most likely deep enough to require stitches. The body of the big male slammed into the stone wall, and you could hear an audible sound as its head connected with stone. I leapt up grabbing the rope with both hands, wrapping my feet around the rope,

and quickly as possible, climbed for my life. The other male entered the chamber as a I was about 15 feet off the stone floor. It slashed at the rope with razor-like claws. I got high enough to grab the side of the rock and heave myself up into the bright sunny day. I rolled over to my side and quickly began pulling up my now shredded rope. I lay there for a few minutes hearing the angered screams and shrieks coming from below. I got back to my Jeep about 45 minutes later, nearly spent after running the entire way. I got in my Jeep after I quickly packed up my campsite. I called my buddies and told them what happened. Of course, they didn't believe me at first until I

showed them the pictures of the wound that the big one gave me. Three fingers of claws raked across my forearm. I drove to the nearest hospital to get patched up, 75 stitches and all to close the wounds. They took some DNA evidence from the wound as well. I spoke with the local sheriff's office about the incident. They took a statement and promised to follow up. It's been two months, I haven't heard anything from law enforcement. but I did hear back from the hospital earlier this morning. The DNA found in my wound has no known species associated with it. The closest relative would be a monkey.

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book on Hilton.com or the Hilton app and save up to 20% to get the stay you expected. When you want savings, not surprises. It matters where you stay. Hilton, for the stay. Technology is your friend. That was the phrase I'd had almost ceremoniously drilled into my head from a rather young age. As someone who was born in the early 90s, I was alive to witness the world take the jump into the digital age following the turn of the millennium.

I grew up watching the old technology of the 20th century. everything from analog television to copper phone lines get phased out and replaced, all the while hearing that the new versions were better, more efficient, and safer. And for a while, I actually believed it. I wasn't what you would call a stickler for old tech. I moved with the times, adopting new technology as it came along, everything from broadband internet to smartphones, to smart TVs and cars with self-driving capabilities. I was excited about it all as well, hearing about a new leaf.

in progress always excited me greatly as it meant a step closer to the future I'd seen in cartoons as a kid, such as the Jetsons. That all changed last year. It started small enough. I'd be standing or sitting somewhere, scrolling through social media on my phone when it would glitch up and freeze on me. I hadn't done anything wrong, and I had good antivirus software installed on it, so the fact that a less than two-year-old phone was going on the fritz annoyed me to no end. Friggin' piece of crap. I hissed through. I never gritted teeth as I sat at my desk during a particularly slow shift at work as my phone once again froze, then went black as it shut itself off and rebooted. Vivian, my coworker who sat in the cubicle across from me, looked over with mild interest.

Everything all right, Jared. She asked, I shook my head. This stupid thing did it again to me. I exclaimed, quietly, so my boss wouldn't hear I wasn't working. Even on slow shifts, he insisted we keep going to, as he put it, prevent paying you to just sit on your lazy butts like you're back in school. She shrugged. Have you taken it to a repair shop to try and have the problem diagnosed?

I sighed and rolled my eyes slightly. You know I have, Vivian. Three times, and each one said that my phone was running perfectly. I said, I saw her scrunch up her face and raise a hand to play with her blonde hair. Well, why not just toss it and get a new one? She asked. I scoffed. Vivian, I've worked here for four years.

You ought to know by now I'm not into that whole disposable. Throw something away as soon as it breaks or goes wonky culture. She shrugged again. Suit yourself. She said, but it would be a hell of a lot easier for you to just get a new one. I shook my head and turned back to my computer, placing the now rebooted phone screen down on the desk. I may have been someone who moved with the times in terms of tech,

but I didn't like wasting money just to get rid of something after less than two or three years. I already got annoyed when people just bought or leased a car for a year, which ran perfectly fine, before hawking it and getting a single model year newer iteration 12 months later. When I got home that night, I hooked my phone up to my laptop, running my own diagnostic software on it. Just like with the repairmen,

it reported that the phone was in tip-top shape, with no viruses or malware detected. Maybe Vivian is right, I thought as I climbed into bed. Maybe, just this once, I should take the L and get a new phone. As I stared at my ceiling fan lazily spinning the abnormally warm spring air around my room, I heard my phone let out a soft ding, indicating that I'd received a text message. Rolling over, I picked it up off the table next to the bed and clicked the screen on. Where the hell is texting me this late.

As the screen flashed to life, causing me to wince and close my eyes from the glare, it let out another little ding. I opened my eyes and let them slowly adjust to the light. As soon as the screen came into focus, I saw that I did indeed have two texts waiting for me. But I felt nothing but puzzlement wash over me like a wave. For one, there was no phone number shown above the message notifications themselves. It didn't even say it was an unknown number. The area was simply blank, something I'd never seen before.

Stranger still was the fact that both text messages comprised of nothing more than single letters. The first was the letter W and the second was E. I wondered. I waited to see if any more messages would come in, but none did, the phone screen eventually flicking to block from inactivity. I sighed and placed it back on the nightstand, then rolled over onto my side. Great, now it's messing up so badly it's glitching single character text messages. I let out a long sigh, making a mental note to take the phone back to the repair guy at my

local mall next week, when he got back from vacation. If anyone would know what was causing that, it would be him. I thought one final time about the glitch, then let out a soft, sleepy laugh in the dark room. Wee, I muttered as I finally drifted off into a restful sleep. The next day went by normally until lunchtime. I was sitting in my building's cafeteria, eating a cold turkey and cheese sandwich with Vivian, and my other office buddy, Davin, when my phone went off three times in a row this time. I picked it up, saying that I'd received it.

three text messages, all with the same send time of 1248. Again, they were only single letters. This time A, R, and E. Oh, what the flip? I groaned, dropping it back onto the table. What's up? Davin asked through a large mouthful of potato salad. Vivian shot a glance at my phone.

Again, she asked, I shook my head. No, it started doing something completely new last night. Single letter text messages from nobody. Two last night and three now. Daven looked over at the phone with mock fright, swallowing his food. Spooky, it's the ghost and the machine. He let out in a poor imitation of a creepy voice, raising his arms as though he were a stereotypical ghost with a sheet over his head. Very funny, jerk.

I muttered, letting half of my mouth curl up in a smile at his stupid joke as I reached for my bottle of water. Hey, at least I don't have a big butt. Equipped back, and this time, the entire table laughed. Seriously, though, it continued. It's probably like Vivian said. Just a defective phone. Just junk it and get a new one. I slowly nodded my head.

I've been beginning to lean towards it, but... I don't know, something just doesn't sit right with me. I motioned towards it. I've had that thing for a year in like seven months. And it's never done this to me before. Both my coworkers shrugged. That happened sometimes, Vivian offered. I couldn't help but nod.

She was much more versed. on technology than I was. Out of sheer curiosity, did the letter spell anything out? She asked, it was my turn to shrug. Well, the first two letters were W and E. These were A, R, and E.

So, I guess it spelled out, we are. The two of them shared a look. What? I asked. They didn't say anything, still looking at each other. What? I demanded a little harder,

feeling a small sense of worry come over me. Well, Vivian began. well what i exclaimed all at once both of them shot each other grins and began singing in unison we are who we are as they finished i realized what they'd done as they fell into peals of laughter really i said letting out a scoff you start singing that crappy annoying pop song from a few years ago they looked at me and both nodded then began laughing again i shook my head and smirked at the stupidity of it all slipping my phone into my pocket and standing up for from the table to dump my trash into the bin. Those two could find a way to joke about the beheading of Queen Anne. I felt my phone began to buzz continuously in my pocket, but chose to ignore it.

I'd see whatever dumb letters were on it when I got home in a few hours. For the moment, I put the whole thing out of my mind and walked back to the elevator to my cubicle. That evening, as I was driving home, I decided, instead of cooking something myself, to stop by someplace and grab something quick to eat. I felt massively tired from the workload that had been heaped on my shoulders and had no energy to make anything.

I settled on the first place I came across, which happened to be a subway. As I stood in line watching the teenager behind the counter make my sandwich, I decided to pass the time by quickly looking at the dumb messages I'd gotten earlier. Pulling my phone from my pocket, I clicked the screen on. Sir, would you like it toasted? The kid asked me, momentarily distracting me. I looked up quickly. Yeah, please, I said, then look down at my phone again.

There had been eight messages in a row this time, too many to see on the lock screen. I flicked my thumb across the screen and tapped on the message icon, bringing up my texting app. Just like before, they'd all come from no number. I shook my head, tapping on the message to open it up, and then I froze. It felt like my feet had become rooted to the well-clean tile floor beneath me. The room suddenly felt as though it were far too warm, and I felt that. I felt my head begin to spin like I would faint. My heart began to pound in my chest as I read and re-read the eight messages.

It spelled watching. What the actual hell? I felt my breath hitch in my throat as I scrolled back up to the previous messages, then slowly began to scroll down. As I did, the message that each individual letter spelled out sent to shiver up my spine. We are watching. I was suddenly overcome with the feeling I had eyes on me. I slowly turned and looked behind me.

were three other people in the shop, what looked like a couple in their early twenties, and an overweight, balding middle-aged man alone at a corner booth. None of them had phones visible anywhere near them, and no one cast a glance my way. Still, the feeling of being observed remained. Oh, sir, I heard a voice softly speak behind me. I turned, still feeling in a daze to see the kid staring at me, his eyes filled with concern, and a hint of annoyance. He held my toasted sandwich on the sliding railing in front of him, waiting for me to tell him what toppings to add. I shook my head, not wanting my expression to betray the unwilling feeling of paranoia, which had overtaken me.

Oh, um, sorry about that. I stammered, then quickly telling him what I wanted. I paid for my sandwich, drink and chips, and stumbled to my car. Opening the door and dropping into the seat, I dropped the bag of food onto the passenger seat, then yanked the phone out of my pocket. I almost instinctively hurled it away from me into the passenger footwell as though it were a venomous snake. What the hell is going on? I thought as I sat there, hearing the pitter-patter of rain begin to drum on the roof.

That couldn't have been a glitch. Could it? I honestly didn't know. All I did know was that I suddenly felt beyond uncomfortable, not to mention thoroughly creeped out. I reached out and pushed the start button, feeling the Cadillac vibrate beneath me as the V8 rumbled to life. I began to debate what to do as I put the car into reverse and pulled out of the parking lot. If I wanted to, I could take the phone to another repair shop, one that was still open, and tell them about what had happened. But no, they likely wouldn't find anything wrong again.

I could also try taking the phone to the police. Again, no, I thought miserably as the realization came over me. They wouldn't be able to do anything since there's no number attached to the messages. I sighed as I came to a red light, staring out past the rapidly flicking windshield wipers. I could just go get a new phone in the morning. I've got all my contacts in a physical address book at home for backup. I could stop by Verizon tomorrow, tell them I need a new phone due to unforeseen circumstances. This one is still under warranty anyways.

As I debated, I suddenly felt a chill slash through me as a familiar, now sinister seeming sound emanated from the passenger footwell. Ding. Twisting my neck as though it were on a swivel, I saw the bright white light from the screen glowing up from the floor. The light turned green, and I stomped on the accelerator, the rear tires breaking loose for a moment, then shooting the car forward. As soon as I was through the intersection, I yanked the car over to the side of the road, almost curbing the wheels. Jamming it into park, I tore my seatbelt loose and snatched the phone from its resting place. The first thing I noticed was that at the top of the screen, the Bluetooth symbol, something which I very rarely, if ever

used, was now visible indicating it had been turned on. This brought back the paranoia which had begun to subside, but it wasn't what sent it into overdrive. That was due to the two notifications which appeared on the lock screen. The first was one which indicated that another device had been wirelessly with mine. The area where it would show the device's name was filled with nothing but hashtags and star symbols. The second was what may begin to hyperventilate. The device asked for camera privileges. Almost on cue, the flashlight, which also functioned as the camera's flash flicked on, almost blinding me with it. That decided it for me. I let out a strangled cry of panic, fumbling around in the cabin as my hand clawed for the driver's

door handle. After a moment of sheer panic, my fingers found the metal godsend, and I yanked it back as hard as I could, kicking the door open and stumbling out into the pouring rain. I raised the phone as high over my head as I could and threw it towards the ground with all the strength I had. It crashed facing up at me, the impact letting out a huge cracking sound as the plastic backing exploded. But I wasn't finished. Raising my right foot, I began to bring it down on the phone as hard as I could, stomping repeatedly as though it were an actual attacker I'd encountered in my house. I lost track of how many times I brought my foot down on the damn thing. I feel like I must have lost control of myself for a moment.

because when I came to my senses, I was completely soaked to the bone, and the phone was nothing more than a broken pile of plastic, glass, and exposed wiring. Breathing heavily, I looked up to see a homeless man who'd taken shelter under the awning of a donut shop, staring quizzically at me. Realizing how I'd looked, I dropped back into my car, the seat letting out a squelch from my soaked clothes. I pulled the door closed, allowing my breathing to slow to normal. I swallowed, then realizing my throat was dry. reached into the bag and pulled out the bottle of coke I'd bought with my sandwich. I twisted the cap off and took a long swig, the cold, stinging soda quenching my thirst. I capped the bottle and placed it into the cup holder, resting my head back into the headrest.

It's okay, Jared. You're okay. Whatever that was, the phone's broken now. It's over. I repeated the thoughts over and over to myself. When I began to feel a little better, I put the car back and drive and pulled away from the curb. As I drove away, I glanced in my rear view mirror for some odd reason. I don't know why I did, but something had told me to look. I couldn't make out much in the dark and downpour, but I swear I thought I could see the faint outline of somebody standing on the curb near where I'd been parked. They stood absolutely still, and though I couldn't tell which way they were looking, I could almost swear they were staring after me.

It made me drive home just a little bit faster. The next morning, I returned to the Verizon store, telling the woman, behind the customer service desk that I'd had an accident and had broken my phone. She was gracious enough, a smile adorning her face as she told me that I was eligible for a replacement phone under both my warranty and my contract and gestured for me to pick out whichever one I wanted from the display section behind us. I didn't really pay much close attention as I browsed, quickly selecting a random one from the lineup. After a few moments, she brought the phone and box out to me. Okay, sir, now there's a

just one final thing I need to check with you. She looked up at me. I assume you'd like to keep the same phone number we assigned to your old phone. At her words, I felt a surge of panic course through me. Though, I accidentally yelled out, causing her to jump. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to yell that out. I said, feeling embarrassed about the outburst. I just meant, if it'd be okay, if I could just have a new number, please. The woman gave me a sideways look, then plastered her working smile back on her face. Of course, sir, we can absolutely do that for you. When I got back home after work that evening, I quickly entered in all my contacts into my new phone, then dropped it on my coffee table and walked to my entertainment center. A good movie will help take my mind off that,

honestly, rather scary experience, I thought. Opening the doors, I reached in and pulled out one of my favorite movies, a British crime drama from 1956 called Yield to the Night, placing the blue-ray disc in the machine, I dropped onto the couch and let my mind drift away into the movie. For the next hour and 40 minutes, the world around me fell away and I immersed myself in the story of the main character who'd murdered the lover of her lover and had been sentenced to death for it. When the film ended, I stood up and stretched my arms over my head, a yawn escaping my lips. I shut the TV off, then walked towards my bedroom. For a moment, I stopped and looked down at the new phone, wondering if I should bring it into the bedroom with me. But I shook my head and

left it where it was, wandering into the bedroom and dropping onto it after pulling off my clothes. I tossed and turned, the movie now beginning to fall away from my mind, and the last few days returning. I tried to banish them away, the same way a nightlight would chew away a child's imaginary monster, but no matter how hard I tried, the image of those messages spelling out the three words remained in my mind. And don't forget that figure you saw that night. I groaned at myself from remembering that. More than likely, it had just been a passerby, someone interested in the odd-looking fellow stomping on his phone in the middle of a driving rainstorm like a madman. I tried to repeat that idea to myself. Soon, though, I drifted off into a rather uneasy sleep,

one filled with terrifying dreams of the dark figure walking through the pouring rain towards my house. The next day, my office had a huge meeting with one of the members of the board to discuss a big merger we'd be dealing with over the next few weeks. I sat in my cubicle waiting to be called into the huge conference room when I felt my phone vibrate in my pocket. The sensation made me jump, letting out a small gasp of air. Behind me, though, I heard Vivian laugh. I turned to look at her, finding her smiling wide at me. I just sent you the funniest damn video I've ever seen before. I exclaimed, pointing at her own phone. I relaxed my shoulders, letting out a relieved sigh.

Nice, I said, beginning to reach into my pocket for it. That's when the announcement went out over the speakers. Will all employees on the third floor offices please report to the conference room? I slid my fingers through my hair and looked at Vivian. I guess that's us. I said, standing up. She nodded, then following me, we joined the throne of others walking down the hallway to the meeting. The room was massive, with the giant mahogany table taking up the majority of the space in the room.

There was enough room for at least 30 or 40 people to sit at once, and we all dropped into whatever seats we wanted. A moment later, the board member entered the room, greeting us and moving over to a slide projector. For the next 10 minutes, he spoke, droning on and on about our responsibilities. I was beginning to feel as though I would nod off when I felt my phone vibrate in my pocket. I ignored it, knowing the head honcho behind us didn't like us looking away from his presentations. However, I felt it began to vibrate incessantly, the sensation almost feeling like a bee had become trapped in my pocket. Vivian, this better not be you, I thought exasperatedly as I tried as hard as I could to fish the phone out of my pocket without being noticed. I had turned the brightness

down earlier, so it wouldn't be easy to spot. Placing the phone under the edge of the table, I clicked open the phone screen and looked down. The sounds of the conference room and the words of the board member disappeared into the ether as I stared at the screen. My pulse began to quicken, and I felt my heart began to thud hard and fast in my chest,

almost to the point it was painful. My breath caught in my throat, and for a moment I thought I would simply pass out right here and now. There were 21 text messages waiting for me according to the lock screen. All of them sent by, no number. Feeling a rising wave of panic enveloped me, I frantically flicked open the screen and clicked open the message app.

I already dreaded what I would see, but I still wasn't prepared for the amount of terror and dread I felt as I scrolled through each individual message, again containing only a single letter. This time, though, they spelled out a message, while similar to the first, was far worse. We are watching you, Jared. As I stared at the screen, two thoughts zapped through my mind. How did they get my new number? God, they know my name. This second one was what made me feel like I wanted to throw up. Whoever was sending the texts not only had gotten my new number, they knew my freaking name. Fighting back the rising wave of bile in my throat, I stood to my feet. Something the matter,

Wexler. The board member asked me, I felt the eyes of everyone turned to me, in the far corner, I saw Vivian giving me a weird look. I forced a pathetic squeak of a voice out from my lips. I am, I'm sorry, I've got to go. And before anyone could stop me or say anything, I stumbled on shaky legs from the conference room. I didn't go to the bathroom, though. I went straight to my desk, grabbing the key fob to my car, and my jacket before taking the elevator down to the lobby. I practically dashed for the parking lot, crashing into a heap in the driver's seat after wrenching the door open. Fine, to hell with this, I'm going to the cops.

I said to myself, starting the engine, I pulled out of the parking lot, and did just that. I went straight to the closest precinct, barging through the doors to the desk sergeant on duty. I sputtered out what I'd dealt with for the last few days, and after a few attempts to be understood, he guided me back to where a detective took my statement. After I'd finished, he leaned back in his chair, interlacing his fingers behind his head. Well, as much as I admit that is both an odd and eerie thing to happen, Mr. Wexler, there's not really much I can do. Since you don't know who's sending you these messages and don't have a number, I can't do much except tell you to contact us again if you receive them. I sighed dejectedly, my head drooping down to look at the floor. He spoke softly,

more kindly. I wish there was more I could do. I looked up to see him lean forward. If I may, can I ask to see your phone? He asked, I fished it out of my pocket, handing it to him. Sure, can I ask why? He glanced up as he pulled his own phone out of his pocket. I'd like to copy these messages to my phone for our records, just so if you get more of them, we know it's the same situation. I nodded, looking back down at the floor. After a few minutes, I heard the detective's voice speak. For some reason, it held a trace of irritation in it. Uh, Mr. Wexler, I glanced up to see him holding out my phone. Where are the messages you told me about? I felt my jaw drop open as I stared at my own phone screen. The message app he'd opened, the only message app I had installed, was empty.

There weren't even ones I'd sent back and forth with my friends and coworkers, let alone the creepy message. All it showed was a single line of texts. Messages empty make a connection and send a friend a text. I blinked a couple of times, willing for my vision to be mistaken, but no messages reappeared. What? I let out trying to force my mouth to form words. I don't understand. The detective dropped my phone on the desk, his irritation now apparent. I don't know what you're playing at, Mr. Wexler, but we have a lot of cases, real ones, to deal with. We don't have time for false reports to be made, which, may I remind you, is a crime in itself. I tried to open my mouth to speak, but he held up a hand. Now, I'm not going to charge you with filing a false

police report. He continued, but if you don't want to try my patience, I suggest you take your phone and leave. Unable to say anything else, and feeling a wave of despair wash over me, I picked up my phone and left. As I walked outside, my phone vibrated and lit out a soft ding. Feeling equal amounts of fear and anger rush into me, I flicked on the screen. This time it was a single message, two words. Nice try. I began to feel true rage well up in me when it went off again. We're watching you, Jared. And, as if to emphasize the point, I saw the Bluetooth symbol flick on. I didn't know what else to do. I slammed the brand new phone onto the ground,

then raised my foot and brought it down onto it. Screw you. I screamed out as I destroyed the second phone in two days. A moment later, I realized how I looked and glanced around. Everyone near me had stopped to watch the spectacle. The couple teenagers had even pulled their own phones out of their pockets and were recording my what I can only describe as a mental break. You look utterly insane right now, Jared, I thought.

Looking around, I felt another wave of paranoia fly through me and felt the sensation of being intensely watched come over me. I didn't bother looking back, though. I didn't know where it was coming from, not with so many eyes and cameras on me. I just strode away from the station, feeling equal parts terrified, angry, and paranoid. I made it to my car, dropping into the seat before pressing my hands into my eyes at the migraine which had fallen over me. I took deep breaths, fighting to stay in control of my emotions. Get a grip, man. I whispered out.

After a moment, it seemed to work. Feeling calmer, I started the car and drove away. Happily, and thank God for it, the next month or so seemed to pass by peacefully. I'd canceled my phone contract with Verizon, which resulted in a rather large early termination fee, but I willingly paid it. Instead, I used the money I would have on the monthly bill to instead purchase two days. different things. The first was a landline, something I hadn't had in almost 20 years. The lower textile just somehow felt safer to me. The second was that I still needed some kind of mobile phone for work to be able to be reached when out of the house. So, I went off to Walmart and bought

myself a burner phone, one of those you pay with a physical phone card. I also didn't purchase a smartphone. I bought the most basic flip phone I possibly could. One that still ran off the old 4G phone systems instead of 5G, one which had no Bluetooth connectivity, barely any ability to access the internet, and most importantly, no camera on it at all. And for those next three weeks, my life began to get back to normal. That was, until one Friday afternoon, I had the day off, so I just lounged about the house, watching movies and playing video games. As I was attempting to get through a particularly difficult section of Horizon, Zero Dawn, I heard my doorbell ring. Hitting pause, I got up and walked to the front door.

On the other side through the glass mounted on the sides of the doorway, I could see the unmistakable shape of a delivery man. The FedEx logo was clearly visible on his hat and shirt. I unlocked the door and opened it. Yes, I asked. Jared Wexler, he asked, smiling at me. I nodded. He held out his portable computer terminal.

Sign here, please. Taking the electronic pen, I quickly scratched out my signature. then took the thin sealed envelope from him as he turned and began walking back to his van. Shutting the door behind me, I stared at the envelope in confusion. I didn't order anything offline recently. Walking into the kitchen, I sat at the table and peeled open one side, shaking the envelope. Two items tumbled out of it onto the counter. The first I couldn't tell as it had fallen face down.

The second, however, hadn't. It had landed face up. As I stared at it, my eyes walked. widened, and I felt my breath begin to come ragged and fast. My heartbeat sped up, thudding wildly in my chest. It was a single sheet of paper on which someone had typed out a single message. The letters had been typed in large font size, making each word crystal clear. We'll be seeing you soon, Jared.

Fighting back a rising wave of panic, I reached for the upended sheet of paper with trembling fingers, and after a moment's hesitation, flipped it over. What I saw on the other side made my breath stop entirely. I felt a scream began to fight its way up from my chest as I stared at it, only turning to look back into the living room and back. It was a large, glossy color photograph. The detail was perfect and complete high definition. What had made me want to scream was what the picture was of.

The photograph was of me. Me, sitting on my living room couch, wearing the shirt and pants I'd worn two days ago. The shot was taken straight on as I'd worn. relaxed watching old horror movies. I could see the dopey half-smile plastered on my face as I'd laughed through deep rising. I knew instantly where the photo had been taken. The photo had been taken through the camera and my smart TV. What they did to your family, you're lucky to make it out alive. Streaming on Peacock. These men are going to come after me. Taking them out. It's my only chance.

Put a bullet in her head. From the co-creator of Ozark. Looks like a family was running drugs. Execution style killing. It's rare for the keys. And it leads on who they might have been running for. The cartel killed my family. I'm going to kill them. All of them. M.I.A. Streaming now. Only on Peacock. Almost as soon as the note and photo tumbled out of that FedEx envelope.

Two things happened in rapid succession. The first was that I immediately dashed over to the wall mounted TV and clambered for the plug, yanking it out of the wall outlet hard enough to let out a small spark. For a moment, I stared at the small insect camera mounted at the top of the frame, one I had previously regarded with joy and intrigue, as I'd used it to video call friends and family who lived across the country. Now, though, it reminded me more of something out of a dystopian horror novel. The second thing that happened was, I called the cops.

Despite how my previous interaction with them, especially the detective, had gone. I dialed 911 anyways. This time, I had proof that couldn't be simply deleted. out from under my nose. Still, I wasn't taking any chances. While I waited for them to arrive, I kept both the photo and note clutched tightly in my hand. I'd seen far too many films where physical proof had been left laying around, only to have it swiped away when the authorities arrived. Like hell that's happening here. A few minutes later, I saw the two police cruisers pull up to the curb, and I opened the door. Just like with the detective, they treated my story with an

understandable sense of skepticism. At first, their expressions changed when I held out the two items I had received in the mail. After looking at them and sharing a look, they began to take me far more seriously. Many phone calls and radio transmissions were made, and half an hour later, the same detective I'd dealt with before, whose name I learned was Detective Monkhouse, had shown up as well. This is very serious, he said, looking up from the now-bagged and tagged note and photo at me. Digital hacking and privacy invasion is a crime, but it's one which can be very hard to track back down to the suspect, Mr. Wexler. I looked up at him from across my kitchen table, hearing the voices of other officers in my living room as members of the cybercrime forensics team examined the

television. So, what are you telling me? I asked, a note of anxiety audible in my voice, that you're not going to be able to find whoever is doing this to me. He shook his head. That's not what I'm saying, Mr. Wexler. Not entirely, at least. He held his hands out. There are many different types of cyber criminals. Everything from amateurs who leave behind a digital paper trail you can observe from the space station to some of the most knowledgeable black hats who rarely, if ever, get caught.

We need to find out which category this individual or group of individuals are in. We may be able to find them. He gave me a look of sympathy, but then again we may not. I felt my shoulders slump at his words. and my head lowered down to look at the wooden table. However, I heard him say, we are going to try our best to find them. If our own local cybercrime unit can't get any headway,

since this seems to be beyond just a normal intrusion, we'll reach out to some of the bigger authorities for help. I looked back up and nodded. A uniformed officer, one with a gray goatee, stuck his head into the kitchen. Detective, the forensics team, have finished their overview. They weren't able to find any way the photo had been taken here. They're asking if they have permission to take it back to the lab for further study.

Detective Monkhouse shot me a look. I waved my hand at him. Take the damn thing. As far as I'm concerned, keep it and lock it up in an evidence locker somewhere forever. I don't want it in my house anymore. He nodded at me, then nodded to the officer who disappeared back into the living room. I saw him reach into the inner pocket of his coat, pulling out a card and placing it in the middle of the table.

This has my personal cell number, Mr. Wexler. If anything, and I do mean anything else, shows up, be it physical or on your phone. I cut him off. I got rid of my smartphone, detective. I held up the flip phone which had been on the table beside me. He turned his head in surprise, then nodded. Well, regardless, get in touch with me if anything else happens, he said. I nodded, then thought of something.

What about in the meantime? I asked him as he stood up from the table. He scratched his head. Well, for a few days, I'll have a squad car placed on the street in front of your house. It's unlikely these people will actually make a physical move on you, especially now that you've called us, but it'll be airing on the side of caution. I nodded, letting out a sigh of relief before thanking him.

He waved me away and began to follow the other officers, to carrying my TV out to a forensics van, before turning back in the doorway. I'm sorry I didn't believe you at first, Mr. Wexler, He admitted. I dismissed him with a wave of my own. You couldn't have known. I admitted. After giving me a final hard look, he nodded, then closed the front door behind him. I was left alone in the silence, which now seemed almost suffocating after the events of the evening. As I thought of something to do to help get my mind off of things, something flashed into my mind. I had two smart TVs, one which the police had taken, and a second up in my bedroom, which faced directly.

at my bed. Before the thought had even finished in my mind, I was dashing up the stairs and into my bedroom, crashing through the half-open door. It sat on top of my dresser, dark and silent. For a moment, I thought about letting it be. After all, the photo had come from the downstairs TV, not this one. Nope, I'm not taking any chances here, I thought as I crossed to it and pulled the power plug from the wall. I unhooked the cable and blue-ray connectors, then carried it downstairs and out the front door, where I dumped it on the sidewalk next to the trash bins. The next day, as I had the weekend off of work, I drove to my local Goodwill and purchased two old TVs. Both were the old, boxy CRT sets, too old to have any way to have someone spy on me through them. I brought them back

home and was setting them up when my landline rang. I answered, hearing Davin's voice on the other end. Jared, what the heck happened at your place? Molly was driving by last night, and she saw a couple cop cars out front. I began to open my mouth to tell him, but stopped. I'd known Daven for almost seven years now as long as I'd worked for the company. I trusted him completely. Hell, the man had even invited me to his wedding. But at the same time, I had no idea who was doing this to me. It could be someone many miles away, or it could be someone much closer to home. The feeling that I couldn't trust anyone was one I'd never had before and I didn't like it. Still, I kept my cards close to the vest. Some homeless guy tried breaking into my house through

the backyard, that's all. I lied, trying as hard as I could to sound casual. Wow, was all he said, a small moment of silence spreading out between us. For a moment, I thought he'd clicked off before he spoke again. Anyways, some of the office were talking, and we thought about having an afternoon lunch tomorrow at Chang's in the mall. He want to go. I debated on it for the moment, then nodded. I nodded. my head at no one. It'd be good for you to get out of here for a bit after this. Sure, why not? I said. Great, I'll let them know you'll be going. He said enthusiastically, before bidding me good night. I hung the phone up on its hook, then shook my head and went back to setting up the new TVs. The next day I walked out to my car at about half past noon.

I saw the squad car on the other side of the street and raised an arm to wave to them. They did the same, seeing I was leaving, and I saw one radio it in. Climbing into my car, I started the engine and backed out of my driveway. I decided I'd take a couple back roads instead of the main ones. Not only would it save me some time, it had also given me a chance to admire the beautiful trees and lakes on the way. I was happy to see very few cars also taking the road. As I passed an old farmhouse, the red barn and silos glinting in the light,

my cars dash let out a little ring. I looked at it, feeling a bit of a bit. bit confused as I saw the notification. I had an incoming call displayed on the screen. What the hell? My flip phone has no Bluetooth and I don't have anything else paired to it. Feeling a slight sense of uneasiness fall over me, I looked closer and saw Davin's name pop up on the caller ID. I reached out with my thumb and, after a moment's hesitation, hit the green accept button on my steering wheel. Hello, Davin. I said, there was no answer from the speakers, though I could tell there was someone on the other end of the line. I could hear someone breathing, very softly.

Daven, hello, I said. Still no answer. Okay, this is beyond weird, I thought, and began to reach for the red disconnect button when someone spoke. But it wasn't Daven. Hello, Jared. I felt the color drained from my face and my hands gripped the wheel a bit more tightly. Whoever was speaking was using some sort of voice masking software, the same type you'd hear people use on crime programs. when they wanted to remain anonymous. It continued. It's nice to finally speak directly to you. My voice had become lodged in my throat,

and for a moment I looked down at the flip phone in the cup holder. I'd program Detective Monkhouse's number into it, and I wondered if I could quietly flip it open, and speed dial him. I found my voice finally as I slowly took one hand off the steering wheel, watching a beautiful pawn flash by on my left. Who the hell are you, and what the hell do you want? I said, attempting to sound intimidating, but knowing I failed miserably, the person on the other

end laughed. Oh, come on now, Jared. Where's the fun in spoiling the surprise on that? It laughed again. Maybe you'll find out. Then again, maybe you won't. My right hand had made it to the flip phone, and I slowly began to lift it out of the cup holder. That was when the brakes on my car locked up for no reason at all.

I was shot forward. The only thing that kept me from smashing. into the steering wheel being the seatbelt. The flip phone flew from my hand and landed somewhere I couldn't see as the car began driving again. What the hell was that? I didn't hit the brakes. No, don't be like that, Jared.

The voice through the speaker said, You ruined the fun for a while by going to the police and then tried to again when you called them last night. The person clucked their tongue. I'm not going to have us disturbed this time. It laughed again, and as I reached down, I heard my car let out a beep. Looking back up, I saw something which sent a chill through me. My car is a 2020 Cadillac CT6V.

I'd purchased it to treat myself when I'd gotten an extremely nice bonus two years ago, as I'd never owned a car as new before. One of the options I'd insisted on finding had been the true hands free driving system called Super Cruise. And now, as I stared in horror, and even though I knew it was a road it shouldn't have been able to work on, the green glow from the top of the steering wheel indicated that it had been activated. that it had been activated. At the same time, I felt the car begin to accelerate,

even though my foot wasn't pressing hard down on the accelerator. The voice laughed again. You'd be amazed at how easy it is to hack into newer cars connected to the internet. It said, almost in a boastful tone, all it takes is a few keystrokes and, whoop. I stared at the speed as it passed 80 miles an hour, and kept climbing rapidly. Please, stop the car.

I begged. All I got was a laugh in return. Then the voice lost all humor in it. Enjoy the ride, Jared. It said, before the line went dead. The car kept accelerating, now reaching 100 in 10 miles an hour. I reached out and frantically tried turning the steering wheel, but it wouldn't move an inch in my hands.

All of a sudden, a new sound assaulted my ears. The radio had begun to play music all on its own. I stared at the screen and felt a sick, sinking sensation in my stomach as I recognized both the opening guitar rill. and the name displayed on the screen. Don't Fear the Reaper by Blue Oyster Cult. In desperation, I began jamming my foot down on the brake pedal, hoping something would happen.

But, even though it went all the way to the floor, the car only continued to pick up speed. Trees, houses, and lakes went by in an almost indistinguishable blur as the car passed 130 miles an hour, the speedometer almost on the far right side now. The lyrics to the song, one which for all my life I'd loved hearing, now held a sick, sadistic tone to them as the singer belted out the song's title over and over.

What the hell do I do? I didn't know. There wasn't much I could do. I felt tears begin to well up in my eyes as I was pressed back into the seat. That was when a sign whipped by on the right. It was too quick to read, but I'd gone by it so many times that I knew what it had said by now. It was a sign advertising the biggest lake in our town up ahead, along with a parking and viewing space. As the car reached the bend in the road, I expected it to take the turn, but instead, and with a new feeling of terror, the car kept going straight, flying onto and down the narrow dirt and gravel road. I heard rocks and sticks slamming into the cars underside over the roar of the engine. That was when a fresh dose of horror crashed over me like freezing wave. I knew what they were going to do to me. Directly at the end of the road was the parking lot, which sat behind a wooden fence, separating it from an almost 40-feet.

dropped down to the lake. They're going to drive me right off the edge into the lake. I felt my breath hitch in my throat. Screw that. I shouted out at no one. I knew if I tried bailing out of the car at these speeds, on this road, I would sustain serious, possibly even life-threatening injuries. But it was still better than possibly drowning. I made the decision and unbuckled my seatbelt, reaching for the driver's door handle. As soon as my fingers wrapped around the cool aluminum, I yanked hard. Nothing happened. The door locks remained firmly down, the door unmoving. I tried again, getting the same thing. No, I screamed, then saw the narrow road open up. Beyond it, I saw a few cars parked on the edges, and beyond the thin wooden fence, the shimmering blue

waters of the lake. Oh, no, I breathed out my words barely audible over the still-playing song, which had reached its guitar solo. I scrambled over my shoulder. I scrambled over my shoulder. grabbing the seatbelt and frantically trying to hook it back into place. As it finally clicked, the car burst out of the road into the lot, having slowed down somewhat on the dirt, but still traveling over a hundred miles an hour. I saw the panicked faces of people turning to see me flying towards them, some yanking their children out of the way. I opened my mouth and screamed out as all I saw was the fence.

And then, the car was airborne. It smashed through the fence as though it had been made of straw. The front of the car lifted slightly. and all I saw were tree tops and the blue sky. At the speed I'd been going, the car made it halfway across the huge lake. And then everything slammed to a halt as it finally crashed into the water. I flew forward, my head slamming into the steering wheel hard enough that I almost lost consciousness. The airbag didn't deploy, no doubt due to something that loser had done to it.

I pulled back, leaning into the seat as it sat in the water for a moment. I put my hand to my forehead, coming away, and seeing bright red red, blood on the palm. Ugh, I groaned out in pain. Thankfully, the music had stopped upon impact, along with the engine, but worse was that it had been replaced with a new sound. The sound of water filling up the engine compartment through the front grill. In a daze, I reached down and unbuckled the seatbelt, sliding forward slightly towards the wheel again as I was freed. The nose of the car began to sink into the water slowly, and as I regained my wits, panic returned on mass. Oh, hell, the car sinking. I knew I needed to get out now. I turned and grabbed for the door handle,

hoping that now whatever the voice who'd hacked my car had done to it would be useless without power. But the doors remained locked, refusing to open. And without power, the windows wouldn't roll down either. I fought back the rising horror in my mind as I saw water slip over the top of the hood, reaching the bottom edge of the windshield. Oh, crap, no, I mumbled out. Turning and gripping the back of my seat, I leaned forward and looked into the backseat. As my eyes swept over everything, a small glint of metal wedged under the passenger seat caught my eye. Yes, it was a tire iron when I'd used a few days prior to change a flat tire I'd gotten on the highway. I dropped it into the backseat when I'd finished and hadn't bothered to return it to the trunk.

Reaching over, I fumbled for a moment, trying to dislodge it from where it had caught as I felt the car sink nose first further into the water. After a few frantic tubs, it finally came free and I turned around. I let out a sharp cry as I saw the water had slipped over the entire windshield. All I could see out of it now was the blue, slightly murky shadows of underwater. At the same time, I felt something cold begin to splash against my legs and looked down to see water beginning to pour into the cabin. At that moment, a thought occurred to me.

My phone. I frantically fumbled around in the passenger footwell, hoping the water hadn't risen over it yet. Thankfully, I found it just above the rising waterline. Snatching it up, I opened my center console, and yanked out a waterproof baggy I'd put in there to hold some miscellaneous items of mine. I appended it, dumping the contents out, then stuffed the phone into it and sealed it, tucking it into my inner jacket pocket. Then I picked up the tire iron and gauged how far I'd have to swing to shatter the driver's window,

which, for the moment, still was above the waterline. Information I'd learned when I was younger came to the first. front of my mind, and I knew I only had a few seconds before the water covered it, making it almost impossible to break. Crying out, I swung as hard as I could. The first blow did nothing to it, I swung again. This time, to my relief, cracks began appearing in the glass. As I saw water begin to creep up the window, I let out a final scream and swung a third time. The window finally shattered into a thousand pieces of small glass. Almost immediately, water began pouring into the now open window and the car rapidly began to fill up with water and sink. I grabbed the

roof of the car, struggling to pull myself out through the mountain of water pouring in. As the water line finally reached me, I took one final gasp of air as I sank underwater. The pressure finally equalized, and I pulled myself out of the open window, pushing away from the car with my feet. I stared down for a moment as I watched it sink down, eventually too deep for me to see, then kicked as hard as I could for the surface. After a few agonizing moments, during which my lungs began to feel as though they were on fire, my head broke the surface.

I sputtered, coughing out bits of lake water which had made its way into my mouth. The shoes and clothes I had on way down, making me feel as though I'd sink again. That's when I felt someone grabbed me from behind. Get off me. I screamed, thrashing around. But the grip didn't loosen.

Easy, I've got you. I heard a man. voice say, and I realized one of the people who'd seen me crash through the fence must have jumped into the water after me. I felt all strength leave me, and I lay back in the water as I was pulled back to shore where a crowd of 20 or so people had formed. They all had concerned or frightened looks on their faces, and after what they must have seen, I didn't blame them one bit. I heard one woman talking on the phone to the police, and the thought reminded me. I reached into my soaked coat and pulled out the waterproof bag. The guy who had rescued me saw me pulling it out and

crouched down next to me. I held it out to him. You said, I muttered weakly. Call Detective Monkhouse. Tell him. I wasn't able to finish my sentence as the steadily encroaching blackness which had crept around the edge of my vision finally overtook me and I passed out. I awoke sometime later, though how much I wasn't sure in a hospital. The first three things I saw, aside from the overhead lights, were the on-duty nurse, Detective Monkhouse, and a uniformed officer. After checking my vitals, the nurse left me alone with the two officers, and still feeling groggy, I told them what had happened. Both exchanged looks, especially when I told them the only person who knew I was going out that day had been my co-worker, but I could tell now that they believed me,

especially after our previous encounter the other day. The officer left for a moment to phone Davin. When he returned, they spoke quietly to one another, then turned and spoke to me. They told me that my car had already been retrieved from the lake. I'd been unconscious for two and a half days, and that even though it'd be almost impossible to get anything from the now waterlogged computers, they'd try anyways. Detective Monkhouse also told me that they'd managed to keep a lid on what had really happened, saying I'd just lost control of my car.

I sat up in the bed. What, why? I stammered out. That was when they dropped the bomb on me. Daven was missing. He'd left his house about an hour before I had, but had never shown up at the Chinese restaurant that afternoon. Molly, his wife, had reported him missing the next day,

and as such they were notifying higher authorities due to the severity of the situation. I felt numb as they told me this. Daven, he's not involved in this. Right. I knew I'd felt wary of him yesterday when he'd called, but the idea he had anything to do with the hell I'd been dropped. into, especially attempting to murder me with my own car, made me feel sick to my stomach. I trusted him. The officers told me they'd stationed an officer at my door, and when I went home,

they'd station two squad cars outside. As they stood up to leave, Detective Monkhouse turned to me. We're going to find these people, Jared. He said firmly, for the first time using my first name. I nodded, and he turned and left. I stayed in the hospital for about three more days while the doctor, and nurses checked to make sure I was okay. Aside from the gash in my forehead, which required stitches, I'd been lucky not to break any bones, getting away with many bruises and feeling as though I'd been run over by an elephant.

When I was discharged, Vivian was there near the entrance to the hospital to greet me. I was slightly surprised to see her, but nevertheless happy as she flung her arms around me. Thank God you're okay. She exclaimed, I saw the accident on the local news the other day. When I realized it was your car they were pulling out, I thought.

She trailed off, and not for the first time, I felt relieved I had someone like her not only as a co-worker, but also a friend. A moment later, though, a feeling of doubt crept over me. Why would she show up now, of all times, just as I'm getting out? How would she have known I was getting out today? The feeling of paranoia returned in spades, and I quietly untangled myself from her. I'm fine. I lied, then motioned to the officers wait. to take me home. Look, I need time to myself right now. I'll try and be back at work, whenever

I can. I'll talk to you about this then, okay? I saw her hesitate, but she nodded, touched my shoulder one more time, then walked back towards the parking lot. As she went, I looked around. I looked at all the people who stood in the hospital lobby at the ones walking through the parking lot. I saw them all holding up their smartphones, scrolling through whatever, taking photos, or talking on them. I saw the cameras for the surveillance system, both in the lobby and on the parking lot lights. I suddenly was overcome with a feeling of being unsafe and watched the same feeling I'd had twice before and quickly hurried to the officer's cruiser. For the next few weeks, nothing again happened. Everything seemed to mellow out. This time, though, I didn't feel relieved.

It felt like whoever had set their eyes on me were just biding their time, waiting for it all to die down. The police and the upper investigatory team, nobody would tell me how high up they were, but I could guess hadn't made any headway into finding the culprit or culprits behind the car hacking and text messages. Whoever it was, was good, never using one IP address too long to be tracked, and using encryption as well. That was all I was told, anyways. In the meantime, I had been placed on paid leave by my job, and I mostly stayed home. I'd also purchased a new car with the money my insurance paid out for my Cadillac. This time, however, instead of buying a new car, I'd browse through Craigslist on my laptop. Covering the camera with tape, though, until I found an early

70s Ford Limited for sale, one which had no possible connection to the internet to it. I'd bought it immediately. Then, one Thursday, as I stood outside in the warm summer air, washing my new car in the driveway, I saw a van pull up to the curb in front of my house. I felt my heart sink as I saw it was a FedEx truck. A different man from the first time stepped out, carrying a familiar-looking delivery envelope. Feeling my heart began to thud hard in my chest, I dropped the water hose and sponge and ran around the side of the van. The squad car was still there, and I frantically waved my arms to be spotted. After a second, the two officers stepped out and jogged to me. What's wrong, sir? One asked. I couldn't find my voice. Instead, I jabbed towards

the delivery man now walking across the front lawn to us. He froze as the officers sped over to him. After a confused moment, he handed them the envelope. While one officer detained him for questioning, the other pulled on a pair of sterile gloves from his pocket and tore open the envelope. Upending it in his hand, three items fell out. The first was a local newspaper clipping of the accident I'd been in. It had been laminated and in the giant front page picture I could see the tail end of my catalogue, being hauled out of the lake. The second was another glossy photo. It had been taken through the broken fence I'd smashed through.

I could see my own unconscious body, surrounded by people. Knowing they'd been that close to me, physically been that close to me, filled me with a fear I can't describe. The third was another typed note. Congratulations on surviving. Jared. Enjoy your rest. We'll see you again soon.

Mr. Wexler, we need to take you into protective custody. Whoever is doing this to you has now made a physical attempt on your life. Detective Monkhouse said to me as he, once again, sat at my kitchen table. The entire street outside my house looked like a big crime had just been committed with how many cop cars stood on the curb, some with their lights still flashing. The entire cavalry had been called in once the two officers had seen the contents of the new envelope, and along with them had come the detective. I sat and stared at him. For how long? I asked him,

what I need to, whatever protective custody means, disappear, go away, whatever. For as long as needed, until we can get a positive idea on these people, he replied, what about my job? My house. He looked around. We'd let your company know you'd be out indefinitely due to police business. And, as for your house, we'd have someone watching it. Just in case they came by here, I turned the thought over in my head. Being locked away in some safe house didn't exactly sound the most appealing to me. But then again, neither did another repeat of the events of the past few months. You don't really have a choice, Jared. I sighed. Okay, when would this happen? He nodded, seeming a bit more relaxed now that I'd agreed with his plan. Well, we need to get a safe house

sorted for you somewhere off the grid. We'll have to use encrypted channels to minimize the chance of the location being given away. I'd say, he looked up at the ceiling, I'd say tomorrow, by the latest, I nodded again as he stood up. In the meantime, prepare a suitcase or two of your belongings to take with you. I'll have two squad cars parked out front and a third in the back. If you decide to go anywhere today, let them know. I stood up and shook his hand. I actually probably will go somewhere today, detective.

I'm going to go to the bank to withdraw some money from my account to prepay at least the next few months of rent, as well as a few things I need if you're taking me tomorrow. He nodded. We already have your bank location, so we'll keep an eye out for you there. Where are you going to go for the items you need? I didn't hesitate. The shopping center in the mall.

There's a branch of my bank in it, so I can get both things done at the same time. I don't trust going to a place right now that might be empty. In fact, I raised my wrist and looked at the watch on my wrist. I'll go to the mall now. He nodded again. Just don't take too long. He said, here at the house will be the safest place you can be. possibly be right now. I agreed, then, after he let the officers know I was leaving, we both

exited my house. As I unlocked the door to the Ford, I spared a glance at him as he stood next to his unmarked cruiser. He was staring at me, and after an uncomfortable moment, I nodded at him and slid behind the wheel. I backed the car out, still having to get used to turning and looking out the back window instead of looking at a rear-view camera, then began my drive to the mall. As I stopped at a red light, I heard my flip phone begin to ring. Looking around for a moment, I pulled it from my pocket, half afraid I'd see no number displayed on the caller ID. Instead, I saw Vivian's name displayed. Still feeling wary after having seen Davin's name on my Cadillac's screen, I flipped it open and crooked the phone in my elbow as the light turned green. Hello, I said slowly. Thankfully,

I immediately received an answer. Jared, are you okay? She asked, you haven't been into work in weeks and Harold in the mailroom just told me he saw squad cars galore in front of your place earlier. The paranoid sensation I'd had when I'd seen her at the hospital returned. But at the same time, it felt so damn lonely to not be able to trust anyone. In the end, it won out over caution. No, not really. I admitted, you have a lunch break soon. Yeah, she said as I cruised down one of the main streets, I have mine in ten minutes, why? I took a deep breath. Meet me at the coffee shop in the mall on the first floor by the bank in 20 minutes. I'll tell you what's happening when I see you. I heard her begin to answer me, but it was suddenly drowned out by the sounds of chaos in front of me.

I snapped my head up to see I was about to drive straight into the beginnings of a massive pile up in the next intersection, not even 20 feet in front of me. Crap, I shouted, dropping the phone and slamming my foot hard on the brake pedal. I heard the rear wheels lock up and the car began to skid. For a few, terror. I thought I'd slide straight into the hell of screaming metal and tires, which was still at a crescendo. Then it finally came to a halt. My knuckles were white from gripping the steering wheel so tightly, and I fought to get my breathing under control, and my heart to stop pounding. Very faintly, I could hear Vivian's frantic voice calling for me from my phone, which had fallen into

the driver's footwell. I reached down and snatched it up. Jared, what's going on? She yelled. Vivian, I've got to go, there's been a horrible accident. I said, just get to the mall, I'll be there soon. I flipped the phone close before she had a chance to reply and put the car in park and jumped out. I felt sick to my stomach as I surveyed the carnage in front of me. At least five or six cars had been involved, all entangling with one another in a haphazard mess of torn metal

and broken glass. A small, detached part of my mind realized it looked somewhat like a twisted modern art exhibit, except for the people. Several of them were still in their cars. I saw people from the sidewalks running over to help the people in the cars, while another dialed 911. The driver of a Mercedes in the middle looked to be unconscious, while an older gentleman stumbled out of his wrecked Honda, screaming at a dazed woman who stood next to her minivan. Lady, are you out of your mind? He shouted, the light from me was green, and you ran the red, are you nuts? The lady looked incredulously at him. Are you nuts, sir? The light was green for me, which means it had to be

red for you. Are you blind or something? They continued to argue, but their voices faded away from my ears. I wasn't listening anymore, a severe chill had shot up my spine. They both thought they had green lights. Stepping away from my car, I moved just enough to see the streetlights hanging over the intersection and felt another shiver shoot through me as my fear was confirmed. Every light was green all four ways. They stayed green, never changing back to yellow or red. In any other circumstance, I would have written it off to a major glitch in the system, but my mind refused to let me think it, especially as I gazed up and saw the traffic cameras mounted on top of the street lights. One had been pointed directly where I had been coming from. I felt a new sense of horror

sweep through me as I realized the accident had been caused deliberately, with the intent of having me drive straight into it. Hearing the sounds of sirens wailed. in the distance, I decided not to stick around and instead walked quickly back to my car. Doing a U-turn, I looked in the rear-view mirror at the accident. Everyone was rushing to help the wrecked victims. Everybody except one person, what looked like a man with a baseball cap pulled down over his eyes, which shielded his face from view. He was watching me drive away.

I took the side roads to the mall in perhaps too much of a hurry, constantly glancing in my rear-view mirror while thinking I was about to see a car appear behind me. Thankfully, one never did, and I made it to the mall without any other incident. I parked in the middle of the most crowded area, stepping out and hearing the familiar sounds of children screaming at their parents, along with teenagers laughing. I felt a double-edged sword of emotions, part relieved at the massive amounts of people I saw milling around, and unwillingly, and especially after seeing the man at the accident staring at me, increasingly paranoid. I glanced at my watch. Vivian would be arriving in 10 to 15 minutes, which gave me just

enough time to get the items I needed and get my money out of the bank. I walked inside, hearing a comforting song from the 80s playing over the ceiling mounted speakers as I made my way to the various stores. However, the comforting feeling faded away as I watched the cashier and the first store run my credit card. I'm sorry, sir, but your credit card was declined. She informed me, handing it back. What? I breathed. I'd always paid my bills for my card. It had never once been declined. I froze. They did this. I don't know how they got into my credit card account, but they did something. That thought was followed by another, one which sent a surge of panic through me. Very quickly, I paid for my items with some of the little cash I had on me, then left the store,

heading quickly for the bank. No, please for the love of God, no. I almost jogged into the bank and got in line. When I was called up to the teller, I gave her my bank card and asked her to check my account balance. She stared at her computer screen for a moment, then looked up at me. Sir, you withdrew all your money and closed this bank account this morning. I felt the color drained from my face at her words. I'd had almost $3,000 in that account, and someone had gotten into it, taken all the money out, then closed it. Not somebody, Jared, I thought, you know exactly who. What about my alternative? account. I asked desperately. I had a safety egg account for emergencies, one which I'd put

almost $19,000 into just in case I'd ever lost my job or fallen ill. Nobody else knew about it other than me and the bank. After a moment of checking, she looked back at me. According to this, you did the same thing with that account as well, sir. She said, looking at me strangely, I couldn't say anything. All ability to speak felt as though it had drained out of me, leaving me as empty as my bank accounts. It was all gone. They'd hacked into my bank accounts and taken all my money. I heard the teller ask me something,

but I wasn't paying attention. I just turned and slowly walked out of the bank, feeling a sense of hopelessness wash over me. They knew my exact weak spots, and they used the technology against me like they were wielding a sword. I was so lost in my thoughts, I almost didn't hear my name being called.

Jared, I finally looked up. Vivian stood across the main hall from me, sitting at a table in front of the coffee shop. She held two coffees in her hands and gestured for me to come over. The sight of her, standing there and having been kind enough to buy me a coffee almost sent me into tears. Instead, I forced them back and crossed over to her. I did drop my shopping bags, then did something I didn't normally do. I hugged her, hard. She gasped in surprise at the gesture of affection.

While she had hugged me before, more than a few times, I'm not someone who's into physical displays of affection for friends, family, or anyone. This was the first time I'd ever hugged her back, and after a moment's hesitation, she embraced me as well. The lavender scent of her shampoo was comforting, in a way. After a moment, we let go, and I slowly sat down opposite her. Okay, now I know something bad's happened to you, if you're doing that. She said softly, Vivian, you don't even know that. half of it. I said, putting my face in my hands. Then tell me, she insisted reaching across the table and gripping my hand. I shook my head. I don't even know where to start. I admitted.

She tilted her head. Just start at the beginning and tell me everything. She said gently. I hesitated for a moment. I still didn't know if I trusted her. Even though I'd secretly harbored a crush on her for the last three years, the feeling of being unable to trust anyone remained deep in me. Just like before though, the need to tell someone one out over caution. I sighed. All right. I said, and then, for the next half an hour, I told her everything that had happened. About the threatening texts to the envelopes delivered to me with the messages and pictures,

to the hacking of my car which had almost killed me and finally ended with what had just happened with my bank and credit card. When I mentioned Davin might be involved, due to the coincidence with the car incident, and his disappearance, I saw her grow even more uncomfortable and shocked than she'd already become. I leaned forward and picked up my coffee, taking a large swig of the now lukewarm drink. But why are they doing this to you? She finally asked after a long stretch of silence. I shook my head.

I'd asked myself that same question a million times now. I wish I knew, Vivian. I said, I've thought back my whole life, even to my childhood to think if I might have pissed off or wronged someone somehow. I can't think of anyone. I've always been nice to people. I put my head in my hands again. Another silence. But I just can't see Davin as part of this. She said, I couldn't either, but I also couldn't deny the fact staring at me in the face. I looked at her. You honestly probably won't be seeing me for a while. The cops are going to put me somewhere safe until they can get a lead on who these people are. At this, she gave me a look of sadness, and I realized

how much she'd enjoyed working with me. The thought made me feel a tiny bit better. She nodded. Try and let me know you're okay when you can. Please. She asked, and I nodded at her. I promise I'll try to, as soon as I can. She stood up finally, and I mirrored her move.

I walked close to her, enough I could talk low without being heard. Just please watch yourself, okay. I don't think you'll get sucked into this, but if you ever think you are, call the cops, okay. She gave me a look of concern, then nodded. I will. She gave me a hug, then left, leaving me alone among the strangers. I still had a few items to purchase,

and I thanked God that I'd taken a few hundred dollars out of my now-closed bank account a few days ago. I grabbed the bag I'd already bought and walked to the escalator to the second floor. Getting behind a mother with her two small children, I leaned against the railing as I began the long ride up. As it reached the halfway point, the mall speaker system chime.

a woman's voice speaking a moment later. Ladies and gentlemen, I've been asked to play a specific song on our speakers and make a dedication as well. This song goes out to J.W., I felt myself go still as a statue. J.W. Jared Wexler. My name. Oh, hell, I whispered. A moment later, the song began, and if I felt afraid just by the dedication, the song made me feel as though I'd had a bucket of ice water dunked over my head. It was every breath you take by the police, and if you know that song, you know exactly why the first few lyrics made my heart begin to pound like a war drum.

Okay, screw getting anything else, get out of here. That's what my mind screamed at me, and I listened. As soon as I reached the top of the escalator, I broke free from the crowd and sprinted back down the neighboring stairs, taking them two at a time. As I dashed through the mall towards the exit with curious eyes glancing up at me running by, my eyes caught glimpses of things. I couldn't possibly be seeing. I swore I saw the same man in the baseball cap staring down at me from the second story of the mall. I swore I saw a young woman aiming her smartphone at me. I swore I saw every security camera in the main hall turned to follow me, and the flat screen TVs in the electronics store displaying videos of me running. And I swear that I saw another man. This one

wearing a hoodie with the hood up and obscuring the top half of his face flashed me a grin as I broke through the doors to the outside, all the while accompanied by that damn song. I sprinted through the parking lot from my car, not stopping until I practically slammed myself into the side of it. I felt like I was having a panic attack, my breathing labored and unable to calm down. I just stood there for the longest time, fighting to get a hold of myself. Finally, I felt myself begin to calm down, and I unlocked the car door and slid behind the wheel. As I dropped my bags in the back seat, I heard my flip phone begin to ring. I pulled it out and felt my breathing begin to hitch in my throat again as I saw no caller ID displayed. It's them. I didn't answer it. I just kept staring at the phone until it

stopped ringing. A moment later had vibrated, giving the notification that I'd received a new voicemail. After a moment's hesitation, I flipped it open and went to it. After clicking through the options, I heard a familiar masked voice speak through the phone. Well, that's a bit rude to send me straight to voicemail, Jared. But I guess I can understand. The person laughed. I hoped you enjoyed your run through the mall. It was beyond entertaining to see your reaction to our dedication. So there was more than one person behind this. The voice continued, seeming cheerful. But the best part about everything is, beyond the accident, or should I say both accidents, we haven't even gotten to the real fun yet. Which reminds me, thanks for the financial donation to help us

prepare your surprise. You're a real friend. I wanted to scream and hurl my phone away, but kept listening. So, keep an eye out for us. We'll be seeing you this time and person very soon. They laughed again then, like they did before, turned deadly serious. And don't try and escape. Because there's nowhere on earth we can't find you. Not with all the cameras and technology everywhere now. The voice shifted back to its happy, taunting tone. See ya. And with that, The voicemail ended. I ended the call, and in a panic, fumbled to bring up Detective Monkhouse's number. He needs to know what just happened. But as I scrolled through my contacts list, the phone suddenly began to ring again. I almost flung it away from me, until I saw the caller ID displayed. It was the detective's name and number. Thank God.

I thought, then quickly hit answer. Detective, something's happened here. I almost shouted into the phone. On the other end, I heard a commotion brewing. A moment later, I heard Detective Monkhouse's voice speak. No, they're coming at us both, then. He said, the venom audible in his voice. I froze.

What do you mean? I stammered out. They somehow got the drop on some of our uniformed officers here. One was oft, and the other three are missing. I slumped back in the seat. They have literally managed to successfully attack four trained cops. What chance did I have? The detective continued,

What happened on your end? He asked. Quickly, I relayed to him the events of the last few hours, leaving out speaking to Vivian. I now believed she wasn't a part of this and didn't want to bring her into the line of fire any more than I already had. When I finished, I heard the detective curse.

Look, we have to move up the schedule for getting you to the safe house. He said, but I'm going to need you to drive yourself to the meetup point with me. I'm going to have to stick around here for a while to help clean up this mess. Do you have a pen and paper to write down directions? I did, pulling a small notepad and pencil out from the glove box,

quickly scribbling down the directions he gave me. And one more thing. He added when I told him I'd gotten them, get rid of that flip phone. I didn't think before, but they can still likely triangulate your position through the cell towers. As he said it, I felt like hitting myself in the head for not remembering every cell phone, including the old flip phones, could be tracked. Okay, was all I could say. Then get going.

He finished with, before hanging up. I sat for a moment longer, staring out at the windshield back towards the mall entrance. I thought I could see a bit of movement in one of the windows to the side, as though someone were staring out into the parking lot. Forcing myself to look away, I looked down as I popped the back of the phone open, ripping out the battery before twisting both sections of the phone apart, breaking it. I rolled down my window and dumped the pieces onto the pavement before starting the car and backing out of the space. I drove out of the lot, stopping only for a moment to completely fill the tank,

and purchase a paper map from a gas station, and then began the long drive to where the detective had asked me to meet him. I kept away from the highways and main roads, knowing they'd likely all have traffic cameras on them which could track me easily, instead taking them much longer, but safer back roads. The miles crept by as the hours passed, the sun getting low in the sky. I stopped one more time to fill up the tank again, grabbing a gas station hot dog and a bag of chips for dinner before continuing. It was almost 10 at night by the time I reached the approximate area, where the directions had led me. I was far out in farm country, having passed by darkened farmhouse after darkened farmhouse for the last two and a half hours. All of them must be fast asleep already, getting rest for the long day tomorrow.

For some reason, the thought of such a simple life, and especially one so low-tech comforted me. I decided, if I made it out of this, I'd give some serious thought to ditching city life, and coming out to a place like this for a much quieter and much more remote life. The sign for the road I was instructed to take Came, and I turned right onto a dirt driveway. The old Ford rattled and squeaked as it made its way up the drive towards another darkened farmhouse. I could see the outline of a grain silo and barned silo and barn out in the economy. accompanying field. As I got closer to the house, I spied what looked like an unmarked police cruiser, an older-style Crown Vic, parked next to the house. The detectives already here,

thank you God, I thought. I pulled up behind it and shut the engine off, the headlights shutting off and plunging me into darkness. The silence, for someone who lived most of his life in the city, felt eerie. All I could hear through the glass was the whipping of the wind, and the call of some owl or other birds somewhere in the forest beyond the farm. He must be waiting for me in his car, I thought, and twisted the door open. The night air was chilly, rewarding me with the stink of manure from the neighboring properties. Shutting the door quietly, I moved towards the darkened shape of the cruiser in front of me. I'd gotten about halfway when I stopped in my tracks.

Something went through my mind. The police in my city stopped using Crown Vicks three years ago. Worse still was remembering that the car detective Monkhouse had stood next to earlier today hadn't been a Vick. It had been a Dodge Charger. No, I whispered, suddenly feeling very vulnerable. Jigsaw puzzle pieces came together in my head. It was a set-up. They somehow mimic the detective's voice.

They made me get rid of the only way to contact or find me, then had me drive out to the middle of nowhere. Suddenly, every snap of a twig sounded like someone moving towards me in the dark. Every gust of wind sounded like someone breathing. My head swiveled around like an owl, though I could barely see anything. Screw this, I'm out of here. I turned and hurried back to my car, pulling open the door and practically leaping into the driver's seat.

I started the engine and turned the headlights on when a sound made the biggest chill I ever felt run up my spine. It was the sound of someone breathing behind me from the backseat. Welcome to the party, Jared. I heard a man's deep voice say behind me. I was suddenly grabbed from behind as I tried to kick open the driver's door and I felt a rag of some kind forced over my mouth. I struggled for a moment, my muffled screams sounding muted in the car's interior, and then everything went black. The sound of people quietly

talking to one another was what began to draw me out of unconsciousness. I couldn't tell how many people were speaking, but I could faintly tell, as my senses returned to me, that I was hearing both men and women speaking. I opened my eyes, finding I was lying on my back and staring up at the starry sky. It was still night time, though whether it was still the same night or another, I couldn't tell. What I could tell, however, was that I wasn't near the farmhouse anymore. Large trees rose up on all sides of me, meaning I had to be in the forest I'd seen beyond the edge of the property. I also could tell my hands were bound with something. I couldn't tell if it were tape or anything else, but I couldn't force apart my arms from down near my waist.

Well, look who's finally awake. I heard the same deep man's voice I had in my car, carrying almost the same friendly tone, one would have when talking over drinks with a group of friends. Well, don't be rude, guys, help the man up. I heard footsteps rapidly approaching me, then felt arms grabbed me under the shoulders roughly, hauling me to my feet. A massive spotlight snapped on, almost blasting me directly in the face and blinding me. I closed my eyes and turned away from it. You'll have to forgive the light, Jared. I heard the man say, but there are some of our group who would rather you not know what they look like. He chuckled, even though the chances of you making it out alive are slim to none.

I felt a chill at his words. He continued, however, I have no such qualms letting you see me. After a second, I heard more footsteps approaching me. They walked around the other side of me, away from the light. Well, come on now and open your eyes, then. I opened my eyes, blinking away at the huge light, which cast everything it hit, including myself, in long, dark shadows. It also cast on a man, the one who'd chloroformed me and brought me here, and I recognized him. You have got to be kidding. I said, causing first him, then the many others behind me to begin laughing. It was the FedEx driver, the one who'd brought me that first package two or three months ago. He stood, flashing me the same smile he'd had when he asked me to sign that

day. I cursed myself internally for not thinking of him as a suspect when I'd been paranoid of almost everyone else. His black hair blew slightly in the crisp night breeze. Nope, I'm not kidding you, Jared. He said, his eyes twinkling. I took a step towards him, feeling a mixture of fear, and rage surge through me. What the hell do you people want with me? I screamed, why are you doing this? Why me? Everyone, including the man, began to laugh even harder. I heard a woman struggling to breathe behind me from laughing so hard. Once the man had gotten a hold of himself, he took a single long stride before me, and I realized for the first time how tall he really was. I hadn't been able to judge his height through the door that day and had been distracted,

but I could see that he was at least a head taller than I was, and I'm not exactly on the shorter side. His dark eyes almost looked like coals in the glare of the spotlight, and his smile had turned sadistic. Why not you? He asked, causing him, any retort I prepared in my mind to die away. Whatever I had expected him to say, it hadn't been that. It continued, you're looking for a motive, aren't you, Jared? You want to, almost desperately so, have me tell you that there was some wrong you committed against me or anyone behind the light.

You want there to be something, some wrong you can't remember that you might be able to write as some way to bargain out of this. He tilted his head, letting out a snort. Am I wrong? I didn't reply. The truth was, It was exactly what I'd been hoping for him to say. The sound of an owl or hawk screeching in the woods made me almost jump,

causing some of the people behind me to chuckle until the man raised his hand, causing them to fall silent. He looked at me with a mixture of what almost seemed like sympathy and a sinister glee. The truth of the matter is, my poor man. He began as that there is no reason. There's no motive, none at all. A truly wicked grin now spread across his face, not beyond just wanting to have someone to play around with for our own entertainment.

My shoulders dropped along with my jaw. They are just doing this for their own sick amusement. I found my voice. So you just randomly picked me to mess with before. What now offing me? I sat in a shaky voice. He laughed again. Well, you weren't a random selection.

He started, then gestured for someone behind the lights. I heard footsteps approaching us. One of our groups suggested you to us. and frankly, Jared, I'm glad he did. You're the most fun we've had in a while. The footsteps moved around me, and a figure came to stand next to the man. Hey, Jared, I felt my body turned to ice

at both the voice and the face. Vivian, I breathed out as I stared at her. She flashed me a grin, throwing an arm around the shoulders of the man, and let out a giggle. Oh, my God, do I wish you could see your own face right now? She managed out, you look like you just saw the twist, ending to the sixth sense for the first time or something. I just kept staring at her as the man

leaned his head down to kiss her. I'd honestly expected Davin to be the one to appear out of the darkness, but not her. Pain seemed to reach around and clutch at my heart as I realized the one person I'd decided to trust the most had been the one to betray me. I simply shook my head and turned away, staring out at the woods. Oh, don't be like that, Jared. I heard her say, using that same warm tone I'd gotten used to for years. I like you and think you're a cool guy. But when I mentioned you to my husband, she leaned in close to the man.

He insisted you be our next little plaything. And what he says goes, she let out another giggle. He leaned in close to her. You think we should drop the final bomb on him before we start our game. He asked her. After a moment, she nodded enthusiastically, laughing.

He looked back at the group of people. Hey, would you like to come out here and greet our guest? He called to someone. I heard more footsteps approaching. In my head, I already knew who they would be. Both Vivian and Davin are part of this group. They both were in on it. A third figure stepped next to them,

and any of those thoughts flew away like an eagle on a thermal. For the longest time, I could only stare, my mouth now fully open. Finally, I let out a strangled cry. Hugh. Detective Monkhouse flashed me a huge, grin. Ebecha, Sport. He said simply, then turned to look at the man, so it hadn't been a voice manipulating program or anything. It was truly him. The fact that a cop was part of this sick, twisted group of people filled me with a despair I didn't know I had. He quickly added one thing.

You'll have to forgive me for deleting and getting rid of all the evidence in your case, along with clearing out the party spoiling feds. Orders from the boss here. He thumbed at the man. Oh, I'm sorry, I should say the evidence was misplaced and lost. He chuckled. Now the man finally spoke. So, I can imagine you want to know what we're going to do with you now, Jared. He unhooked himself from Vivian and moved towards me, stopping about five feet away. Well, the thing is, after we have our fun messing about with our mark, it's no fun to just stop and let them walk away.

Not for us, anyways. That's why Frank here, he gestured to the detective, gave us the idea of the idea of, about five years ago to have a grand finale. Monkhouse grinned. The man continued. So, what's going to happen now is this? You're approximately 30 miles from the town you went into last night. The farmhouse would be the first thing you come across.

We're going to cut you free from your bonds and give you a three-minute head start. The detective moved in, and I resisted the urge to strike out at him. There was no doubt that at least one or more of these people were armed, and I didn't want to get a bullet in the back. He pulled a knife from his belt and reached out, grabbing my bound wrists and cutting the duck tape from them before quickly stepping back. Once your three minutes are up, we are going to come after you, using all the technology that this society has grown a false sense of security around.

If we catch you, well, he trailed off, raising a finger to his throat, and drawing it across his throat like a knife. But if you can make it to the farmhouse and your car, you can go free. He held up two fingers. Scouts on her. He said mockingly, causing everyone to laugh. Of course, nobody's made it out yet. Vivian said, her voice taking on a sinister tone I'd never heard before. That's true.

The man began before slapping his forehead. Damn it, why did I almost forget? You're going to have a partner with you on this. He let out a whistle, and a second later, a figure landed roughly on the ground next to me, making sounds like they were in pain. I turned to look at him. Thavin, my co-worker and friend lay in a heap on the grass. It was clear the group had gone to work on him.

Old bruises covered his face. They must have gotten him when he had gone to the Chinese restaurant that day, I thought. I quickly moved and knelt down next to him. He looked up at me with dazed eyes. Jared. He groaned out softly. I felt a new sense of rage ripped through me, almost overwhelming the fear I'd had. As I knelt, my coat I still had on, John.

in the breeze, and I felt something gently tap my chest, something that hadn't been taken from me when I'd been unconscious, something nobody, not the man or anyone else had found. As I was hunched over, I had the perfect opportunity to slowly reach into the jacket and begin to pull it out. So, the man said, raising both his hands as he stood next to his two friends, the two people I trusted most, it's time to begin. He leaned forward, grinning at me, and put on a mocking tone, trying to sound like a judge. Does the soon to be dead have any last words they'd like to say? At this, the entire group let out the biggest laugh I heard them make yet.

They found the whole messed up situation entertaining and amusing beyond measure. It made me feel sick to my stomach. I slowly helped Davin to his feet. The man didn't hesitate, he'd seen what I now held, and it had snapped him fully awake. Actually, yes, I do have something to say. I said loudly, causing everyone to fall silent as they waited for me to speak. Say cheese, jerks. I screamed, then raised the digital camera and slammed down my finger on the shutter button.

A bright flash of light caused the man, Vivian, and Detective Monkhouse to raise their hands to their face as I snapped their picture. Run, I screamed at Davin, and together the two of us used the moment of confusion to begin sprinting towards the trees. Behind me, I heard the man scream out, all trace of sadistic humor gone. from his voice. He sounded enraged, not having been prepared for my move. Screw the three-minute window, get them before they get away and ruin everything. The flurry of movement was heard, and I thought I heard the slamming of car doors.

I didn't pay attention, though. I was too focused on running as fast as I could in the direction. Daven paced me, I could see him out of the corner of my eye, running alongside. The trees closed and around us, and we entered the forest. After a minute, we stopped to our breath, the sounds of our pursuers muted and faded in the distance. What the hell do we do? Daven managed out between huge gulps of air. I fought for breath as well. We just keep going in that direction.

I pointed. I think he was telling the truth about going there. He doesn't expect us to make it. That's why he taunted us with it. It's part of their game. I shook my head to clear my thoughts. We've got to make it to the farmhouse and my car. I held up the camera.

and we've got to get this to the authorities, ones that can put the word out about the detective. I began to speak again, but I was interrupted by a buzzing sound whipping through the trees. We both looked around. A blinding flash of light made me raise my hands. Duck, I heard Davin yell, and I listened, letting my legs give out under me and drop to my knees. A moment later, a drone flew only inches above our heads. I was yanked to my feet. Go, before it comes around.

My friend yelled and we both began running again. The sound of the drone began to approach us again and we ducked, moving sideways away. It flew by a few seconds later, heading straight ahead. We kept running. After a few minutes, we stumbled from the trees onto what looked like a disused logging road. I was about to suggest to follow it when I saw headlights cut through the darkness. Hyde, I hissed and both of us ducked into a bush. A minute later, at Tesla Model X, one raised slightly.

slightly on lifted suspension, with off-road tires and roof mounted lights banishing away the dark, flew softly past our hiding spot. It disappeared down the road, and we both looked at each other. No roads, he whispered, and I nodded in agreement. That's when the worrying sound came from behind us. We both turned to find a drone, a different one this time, hovering behind us about 10 feet away. I could see the camera focusing on us, but there was something mounted below it I couldn't tell. Apparently, Davin did, though, because I saw his face go pale before he was yanking me away from the bush, screaming for me to move. A moment later, I understood why, as a line of flame shot out from what had to be a custom flamethrower, setting the bush on fire. They'd meant to

set us ablaze. My mind screamed at me, but I couldn't stop to think. We ran deeper into the forest as we finally began to hear the sounds of people yelling. I heard angry shouts, but I also heard excited yells and laughter as they crashed, drove, and ran through the woods in pursuit of us. They were relishing in the chase as if they were high-tech hunters on the trail of deer, or birds. As I ran, my mind stupidly shot back to a phrase from a book I'd read in school, one which sickeningly seemed to fit. Man is the most dangerous game. If it had been any other situation, I might have found it amusing in a twisted way,

someone making a work of fiction into reality, but there was no time for it. All of a sudden, a loud, blaring horn began to sound. I shot a look to my right and saw we'd ran straight through laser motion sensors they must have put up. The sounds of our hunters seemed to intensify, and I heard at least two drones, if not more buzzing in our direction. Move, I shouted, shoving Davin forward. We crashed through a thicket, the thorns tearing at our clothes and skin. I felt branches and bushes smash me in the face in the dark, and I prayed neither of us would run into a tree or any more motion sensors. Look there. Davin panted out, pointing. Ahead of us was what looked like

some old buildings. I held a hope for a moment that it was a place that was still in use, but as we broke the tree line, it was dashed away. We had stumbled into what was obviously once an old logging camp. The abandoned machinery and older style of the buildings, combined with the moss and mold I could see growing on the outside in the moonlight, showed that it hadn't been used in decades. That was when a muted sound came from behind us. I almost thought I recognized it. It came again and a cloud of dirt kicked up in my face as we were again blinded by a bright light. Another drone had found us, and this one was armed like the last. The sound of what I now knew was a muted gunshot spat out and I felt slivers of bark smash into my face as it ricocheted

of the tree next to my head. Run for the buildings. I screamed and we both booked it for the darkened structures. We were halfway across the dirt road when I felt a searing pain pop into my left calf muscle. I fell to the ground, rolling for away. In the gloom, I reached down towards the pain. I gasped both at the pain, and the feeling of something warm trickling steadily out from my leg. I've been shot. I could hear the sounds of the group getting closer. What had to be a vehicle's lights appeared at least two miles or so, down the end of the road leading in and out of the camp. Then I was being lifted to my feet. Davin threw my arm over his shoulder, and as much as I could, we both moved quickly for the nearest building. The light came from behind us again, and I heard the

muted sound of the silencer as we were shot at a few more times. Bullets tore into the dirt at our feet and lodged in the wood of the building, just barely missing us. And then we were inside. Davin slammed the door, and in the dark, I heard him lock it. I stumbled across the room, leaning on the wall for support. Here, I called softly as I found a set of steps going down to what had to be some sort of basement. I felt him reach me, and one at a time, we slowly moved downstairs. As we reached what felt like a dirt floor, we heard our hunters reach the camp. Many shouts and orders came, and we heard the sounds of tires as what had to be electric cars

or trucks flew past the building we hid in. Then, after a small squeal, a voice came over on a megaphone. Little pigs, little pigs, come on out. It was the leader. There were a few moments of silence, then he spoke again. Look, you managed to surprise us with that move, and I'm going to make sure next time everything's out of our next contestant's pockets, but I commend your thinking.

You've got one over on us, and you have something which puts you with a bit of an advantage. So, I'll make a deal with you. If you come out and give me the camera, we'll just let you go. Okay. There was a small insid window on the far. corner of the room and I saw the beam of a flashlight pass over it. In that split second, I saw Davin looking at me. He shook his head at me, almost frantically. I shook my head back and the

light moved away. We both knew that the man was lying through his damn teeth. There was no way he'd let us go. The second he got that camera in his hands, we'd both be gone, I thought. There was silence for a few more moments and then I heard someone else speak through the megaphone. He's telling the truth, Jared. I heard Vivian's voice call. All we want is the camera and I promise you, I'll make sure he lets you live. Neither of us made a move. Suddenly, the man's voice came back through the megaphone. Fine, have it your way. He laughed. You know we'll find you sooner or later. We have all night. His voice became deadly serious and I knew it had been him who'd called me up those times with the voice changer. And when we catch you, we're going to take our time ending you. And with that,

he clicked off. The yells and calls of men and women resumed. I limped my way over in the darkness to where I knew Davin was. Hitting the wall with my shoulder, I slid down onto the dirt floor. We have to think of something to do, man. I whispered to him, if we stay here too long, they'll find us. It can't be much farther to the farmhouse from here. We need a plan. I heard him grunt in the dark. We do. He finally said, and I have one. There was a cracking sound, and suddenly a soft, green glow came from next to me. Davin had found an old chemical light, and cracked it, bringing it to life. And the soft glow, he looked at me. What's your plan? I asked him. I knew the guy was smart, nobody gets as far in the company, as we do, without brains.

But the answer I got wasn't what I expected. The plan is, I run in one direction, taking all their attention while you run for the farm. I gaped at him. Are you nuts? I hissed, we're not doing that. It'd be a failed mission. He smiled a bit at me, then winced in what looked like pain. I know, he said, then seemed to sag a little.

Daven, I whispered slowly. I saw finally that he was clutching his stomach. He looked at me, then moved his hand away. I gasped as I saw the crimson red soaking the lower front of his shirt. I snapped my head up to look him in the face. He gave me another pained smile. I got hit when I went back to help you up. The shot went right through me.

He coughed, and I saw a small trickle of red trail from his mouth. I kept my voice low, but gentle. There has to be another way. We both need to get out of here. He gave me a hard look. Jared, there is no other way, and you know it. He looked down at the red liquid, and I don't have much longer.

His eyes met mine. They were hard, resigned. We're not both getting out of this. He said weakly, but you can, at least. You need to get out of here. You need to tell someone the truth. To get that picture to them. He raised his chin high, trying to act tough,

but I could see a little fear behind that resignation. Let me do this. I wanted to argue, even as I heard the buzzing of more drones overhead, and more shouting. But I knew he was right. As much as I wished there was any other way, I still hated it, still felt guilty. Tears welled in my eyes.

It was my fault Davin had gotten into this. Still, I nodded. Okay, I finally whispered. I saw him nod, and then he began to push himself to his feet. I reached down and helped him, letting him lean on me for a moment. He looked at me, then nodded, and began to walk slowly, towards the stairs. He stopped near them, seeing something on the ground and leaning down to pick it up. He looked back at me.

Tell Molly, I love her. He whispered quietly. I didn't know what else to say, so I just nodded again. He held my gaze a moment longer, then nodded back and slowly began ascending the stairs. I was left alone, my thoughts and emotions both buzzing. I wanted to chase after Davin, but again, I knew he was right. A few moments later, I heard someone shout. There they go, I see the camera.

The entire camp suddenly became awash with noise and activity. I stood near the small basement window, and I could see multiple shadowy figure. at least 20 or 30 dashing out of the other buildings. Don't let them get away. That had been Detective Monkhouse's voice, and my body filled with rage hearing it. Still, I kept silent. A moment later, a truck,

what looked like one of those electric Rivian pickups, skidded to a halt next to a figure, what I could see was the detective. I could see Vivian sitting in the passenger seat, and I knew that meant the man, the leader, had to be behind the wheel. There was the sound of a door slamming, and the truck, silent except for the soft whir of the batteries and tires, shot forward.

The sounds of the group slowly faded away. Now's the chance. Forcing myself to put more pressure on my injured leg, making me want to scream, I crossed to the stairs. Stopping, I looked down at what my friend had picked up. It almost made me want to burst into tears. It was a small brick, almost the same size and shape as the camera in my pocket. I ascended the stairs as fast as I could, unlocking the front of the front of the car. door and stepping out. I could hear the group still moving away from me, and I gave a silent

prayer that the blood loss would take Davin before they got to him. The air around me had again fallen silent, save for the usual sounds of the woods. I didn't wait long, I moved down the stairs, then began to half run, half limp in the direction opposite where they'd gone, towards where the man had said the farmhouse would be. The terror kept my adrenaline pumping, which allowed me to ignore the bullet wound somewhat. As I ran, I kept looking over my shoulder. As I ran, I kept looking over my shoulder, sure I would see the bright lights of their vehicles or the whir of their drones, but I never did. It felt like an eternity running, trees and bushes smashing into me as I ran. A few times I fell onto my face in a heap, the pain in my leg almost too much. But finally,

I burst through the edge of the trees. I looked around, seeing that the moon was still high in the night sky. Then I began to openly weep as I saw the darkened shape of a farmhouse looming up, Feeling woozy from the blood loss and stress I'd put on my shot leg, I forced myself to keep going. The Crown Vic was gone, but the old Ford. My beautiful old Ford still sat in the driveway. I let out a soft, strained laugh. The loser hadn't been lying. He'd been that certain nobody would make it.

Reaching the car, I pulled the driver's door open and collapsed into the seat. Like a godsend, the keys still dangled in the ignition, and I wrenched on them, the old engine coming to life with a cough. As I put the car into reverse, I stared one last time at the woods. Godspeed, Davin, I whispered softly, then tore out of the driveway. It's been almost a year since I burst from that tree line, and tore away from that farmhouse. Once I got onto the main road, I drove until I got to the first town, where I went straight to the police. I can only imagine how I must have looked, crashing the Ford into a parking meter before smashing through the front doors of the small police station with my clothes torn.

and dirty and a bullet wound in my leg. The police rushed to my aid, and after summoning an ambulance, I told them my story, insisting that they get in touch with higher authorities right away. Thankfully, they didn't just write me off as a nut job or crackhead running from a drug deal gone bad, and did just that. By the next morning, the small town of a few thousand was awash with flashing lights as members of a very high agency, one which I don't dare outright name, but I can assume you can take a good guess, flocked in. I was questioned about my experience.

I saw the head honcho's face light up with excitement when I showed him my camera, which he took, looking at the photo I snapped. We've been after this group for years now. He said, It turns out these people are a lot worse than I'd already thought. Apparently, they'd been taunting, emotionally tormenting, and finally kidnapping and offing people for close to 15 years now. Many of their members were black hat hackers,

able to get into just about any piece of modern technology. and twist it to their benefit or use, and they would use the money stolen from their victims to keep funding themselves. I shuddered when they told me the number of people who'd fallen victim to them already. I was simply the first to ever get away. It also turned out they'd had their suspicions about Detective Monkhouse when he began trying to get them off the case, claiming it was a local matter and out of their jurisdiction.

So, you'll be able to get them all now. I said hopefully as they spoke about printing out a picture, But the man simply shook his head, almost sadly. I don't know if we will. He admitted, seeing my shocked expression. As he explained, it turned out they were good at changing their identities, using stolen and forged IDs and social security cards, along with changing their physical appearances,

to stay out of the clutches of the authorities. There is one bit of good news, though. He said, You'll likely never see or hear from them again. It'd be too risky for them to make a move on you now. Still, they said they'd put me into the witness protection program, giving me a new identity to start over. Before they did, however, I asked for one favor.

I honored Davin's final request and called Molly. Thankfully, they let me. She wept fiercely when I told her the little I could, and especially when I passed on his last message, but thanked me before hanging up. They never found Davin's body. They found a large pool of blood out in the woods, one which a DNA test confirmed was his, but nothing else. I pray he's at peace and long gone from this world, not with them. They were also right about never catching them. Vivian and Detective Monkhouse fled,

never returning to the city. The last I heard, they're still tracking the group, and they're still doing what they did to me, to others, something which chills me to the bone. They also, I found, hushed it up, never letting it get out to the national news. The excuse they came up with was that an unfortunate victim had wandered across the path of a drug deal, causing the chaos. Since it's such a common occurrence in the U.S. these days, nobody thought to question it. They didn't want word to get out and cause a panic, or have people suddenly dump out all their modern devices in a mass panic. As for me, I never saw or heard any trace of them again, something I thank God for. The Fed had been right. I must have become too high profile to dare make a move on.

I'm now living across the country, thousands of miles away from there with a new name, and I say a silent thank you to Daven every day for it. Even if I could say where, I wouldn't. All I will say is I did decide to live a quiet, remote life with my new identity on a farm. I feel a happy sense of peace out here, but I'll never own any modern pieces of technology again. No smart TVs, no smartphones, no modern computers, nothing. I collect older technology, CRT TVs with VHS and DVDs for entertainment, using a free antenna for the news. All my appliances are from the 80s or before, and I don't own any cell phone, only having a landline in my house. All my neighbors are either of older age than me, or simply prefer a low-tech existence, which I honestly love. I don't think I

could deal with getting gifted some modern piece of tech now. The town nearest to me, thankfully, is still stuck in the 90s at least, without many, if any, cameras around. I feel safe moving about it because of that. That's where I am now writing this from a computer in the local library. And that brings me to why I'm posting this in the first place. I'm posting what happened to me because, as much as I understand the authorities' wishes to not send the public into a mass panic, you need to know. I know many of you won't believe me, but I need to warn you regardless. Those people are out there. They're finding new victims to have their sadistic, horrifying game with, and I don't want it to be you. The world is so dependent.

and addicted to technology now. You might be as well. I understand that it's the way the world is at this point. But please, still, be careful. Be careful and be wary of all the cameras and microphones you allow into your home with nary a care in the world. Be careful of the privacy you give up for the sake of convenience. Because you never know who may be listening, or who may be watching.