"Never trust anybody more than you are forced to. It helps with damage control later on." I have a huge problem with breaking this rule. My friends have and will always be my vulnerability. But you didn't hear that from me. I got up from my computer, and walked outside. The cold air wrapped around me like a forsaken blanket as I moved outside. I dialed into my Amsterdam VoIP server, which routed my phone call through 3 European countries free of charge and then made the call to Alex's cell. This made things convenient for keeping my identity a secret. And if they needed to call me, they got the international number. Foolproof.
"One day and already problems Alex? I'm disappointed."
"Don't be Soul, it was a stupid Philadelphia lackie who fucked this one up."
"I don't share the same stock of trust for those people as you. Call the others, it's time for a meeting."
"First of all, it's a cousin of mine. And second of all, since when did I become your secretary?"
"Lets see, Alex." I put stress on her name to prove my point. "Am I clear?"
"Ugh." And she hung up.
Sorry, Alex but you're still a Rook on my side. Regardless of my respect for you. I felt no remorse for my exploitation, for the simple fact that it was necessary. I returned to the confines of the movie theater, and examined my computer again.
"Terminal01#(unknown routing address): Meeting at 5:00. Be punctual."
Rook A6 to A8. I told Max I was going to have to adjourn for a while, in short words. My car was awaiting me, just as I left it. Only now it toted two orange slips of paper. Parking in front of a fire hydrant and expired inspection. God damn it. I tore them from underneath my windshield wiper and stuffed them into my glove box. I'll save those for a rainy day. My car started and hummed expectantly. Eager to be driven.
I took off down Fifth Avenue with a bit more speed than I should've, but I didn't care. A pedestrian waved at me to slow down. "I appreciate the suggestion, Asstits." I had no tolerance for people who did that. My car screeched as I made the turn onto Sandford Boulevard, and right onto Hutch South. Too much speed there I guess. As I came up the on ramp, I braked and shifted into first gear. My adrenal glands were ready to cleanse my mind of all thoughts for the upcoming trip. Without a second though, I floored it.
My car roared with life as I was pushed into the soft fabric of my seat. 4k, 5k, 6k, Redline. "Shift." 60,70,80,90. "Shift." I said the word aloud to myself as if commanding my lifeless body to listen. 4k, 5k, 6k, Redline. "Shift." The entire moment was liquid. Fluid and out of control. Alice in Chains began to blast out of my speakers. "I feel so alone, Gonna end up a big ol' pile of them bones." I screamed the lyrics with all my might. 100,110,120... "Cmon, Baby, Cmon!" I yelled at my car to reach the speed of light, where nothing matters anymore. Forth gear was not as giving to me as it's predecessors, and I was forced to slow down before I could reach my favorite speed. 130. Pause.
Remember, when I said that sleeping was the only time I really felt free? Thats not completely true. Driving is the only other time I felt free and thoughtless. When I drive, I act completely on impulse and it works very well. When I drive like I do, I'm no longer connected to the reality that I dwell in daily. I create my own, and it is empty. And it is wonderful.
Play. My movement down the highway was now largely obstructed. I barely held 50 miles an hour. I was lucky to get the short run that I did considering rush hour was imminent. I arrived at 5:05. So much for being punctual. I parked in my usual spot on Mayflower, and walked in the newly minted night. Like I said, short days are especially shorter when you sleep late. The city was alight with life, which is characteristic of the early night. We didn't have the shielding of our deeply nocturnal lifestyle to protect us from others. I repeated my actions from my first visit. Stash all the items in my pockets. Hide my car keys underneath my rear bumper. Hide the screen and iPod. Being meticulous was important.
The cars made sloshing noises as they passed by me in the street. There was something I always enjoyed about city blocks that my small town didn't have. It was the ambiguity of the small town blocks, that made me dislike them. I always appreciated the defined aspect of the city. Organized into sectors, of mostly even length. It was an organizational maniac's wet dream. The trees down here equally as bare as in my neighborhood, and a cold wind found nothing to rustle on those branches. It instead turned it's attention to me, walking down the sidewalk. I however, breathed in deeply the air that it attacked me with. Fresh air was something something I could always appreciate.
I took my time, walking up those steps, and awaiting the front door. Four kids were riding down the block on their bikes. They laughed and yelled. "Sup whitey." I laughed too. I'm not sure if I was laughing at them, or at myself. I turned back to see the large black door open and awaiting my entrance. But it contained no one but the blank, dark room. I guess thats a token for being late. Time for business.
(End Chapter 10.)
Wednesday, December 19, 2007
Chapter 9 "Breathe Out Your Soul"
"Don't forget that no one can ever see your truth." When I was younger, I was supremely confused by this line. Now I really think I understand. There are some advantages to working and living in a small town. The commute to anywhere is nothing, including work. I was surprised to find the ice on my monotone gray steps, had melted. The white powder on my beige Honda clung to my car for dear life. The sun massacred the beautiful snow of the night before, relentlessly. It was a very bright day, and the bare trees gave me no protection from the Sun's piercing rays. Still, the air was crisp with winter. People were shoveling snow across the street. The scrape of their shovel on the sidewalk could be heard for miles.
My locks were still semi-frozen and required some key coaxing to open my door. Still though, my engine woke up immediately from it's cold slumber happily. I wish it was that easy for me. My iPod decided to shuffle up a favorite song of mine. While I awaited my engine to warm itself, I sang the lyrics. "Been around the world and found that only stupid people are breeding..." I loved that line. When I echoed the words, it just reminded me of my disdain for so much this world has to offer. My car popped into drive with a click.
The small town movie theater that I work at is exactly as you'd expect it to be. An old, white, beaten up building. It sported ceramic shingles on it's semi-peaked roofs. Very large glass windows in front, and large glass entrance doors as well. Privacy was not included in the design for this theater. The parking lot was filled with plowed snow, so I parked on the street. The large glass door opened with a whoosh. My feet clicked on the sticky tile floor.
"Hey Max, What's up?"
"Same old stuff, Pretty much. You just wake up?" Said the figure behind the glowing silver MacBook Pro.
"How can you tell?" My humorous sarcasm is all too common. But at least we both enjoyed that.
I opened the safe, and sorted the money for the drawers with ease. After doing this for so long, counting isn't an active process anymore. I let my mind drift as I prepared for opening. I hummed the lyrics to my song. "I'm not sick but I'm not well... And I'm so hot, because I'm in Hell" I couldn't tell you how true this felt. The process of preparing the projector had become second nature as well. Without a second thought, I walked back downstairs to join Max at our staff table behind the counter.
Max and I met up during the summer through some friends. We both got along really well, for the simple fact that we are very similar. Neither of us care what people think, as long as we're having a good time. I have a lot of respect for people like that. My iBook powered on with a cheerful orchestra chime characteristic of Macintosh computers. My aimless surfing grew tiresome after a while. I grabbed myself a small fountain Coke. It tasted good, and caffeine was going to help get me started again. The sound of the dispensing soda was still ringing in my brain. Fsssssssh.
"Think we'll get anybody for this show?" Max had worked the previous shows this week, so at the very least would know if anybody was coming to see it.
"Doubt it, this movie sucks."
The show time came quickly, and without any takers we were forced to waste time until the next show. I neglected my computer for a while, and walked outside to enjoy the cold. The bright sun had already started to fade behind earth again. My favorite part of the winter is the short days and long nights. The stone patio of the theater looked out upon a perfect spot for watching the sunset. I stood in awe of the beautiful array of clouds and colors projected across the sky for what seemed like hours. I floated in between time for a short while, and allowed my head to clear. I let out a sigh, satisfied. It felt like I had breathed out my soul.
I returned to my computer with a message waiting, from my terminal.
"Terminal 01#Relinquished@nny.optonline.663-net: Soul, We have got a problem."
Maybe today isn't going to be as boring as I thought.
(End Chapter 9.)
My locks were still semi-frozen and required some key coaxing to open my door. Still though, my engine woke up immediately from it's cold slumber happily. I wish it was that easy for me. My iPod decided to shuffle up a favorite song of mine. While I awaited my engine to warm itself, I sang the lyrics. "Been around the world and found that only stupid people are breeding..." I loved that line. When I echoed the words, it just reminded me of my disdain for so much this world has to offer. My car popped into drive with a click.
The small town movie theater that I work at is exactly as you'd expect it to be. An old, white, beaten up building. It sported ceramic shingles on it's semi-peaked roofs. Very large glass windows in front, and large glass entrance doors as well. Privacy was not included in the design for this theater. The parking lot was filled with plowed snow, so I parked on the street. The large glass door opened with a whoosh. My feet clicked on the sticky tile floor.
"Hey Max, What's up?"
"Same old stuff, Pretty much. You just wake up?" Said the figure behind the glowing silver MacBook Pro.
"How can you tell?" My humorous sarcasm is all too common. But at least we both enjoyed that.
I opened the safe, and sorted the money for the drawers with ease. After doing this for so long, counting isn't an active process anymore. I let my mind drift as I prepared for opening. I hummed the lyrics to my song. "I'm not sick but I'm not well... And I'm so hot, because I'm in Hell" I couldn't tell you how true this felt. The process of preparing the projector had become second nature as well. Without a second thought, I walked back downstairs to join Max at our staff table behind the counter.
Max and I met up during the summer through some friends. We both got along really well, for the simple fact that we are very similar. Neither of us care what people think, as long as we're having a good time. I have a lot of respect for people like that. My iBook powered on with a cheerful orchestra chime characteristic of Macintosh computers. My aimless surfing grew tiresome after a while. I grabbed myself a small fountain Coke. It tasted good, and caffeine was going to help get me started again. The sound of the dispensing soda was still ringing in my brain. Fsssssssh.
"Think we'll get anybody for this show?" Max had worked the previous shows this week, so at the very least would know if anybody was coming to see it.
"Doubt it, this movie sucks."
The show time came quickly, and without any takers we were forced to waste time until the next show. I neglected my computer for a while, and walked outside to enjoy the cold. The bright sun had already started to fade behind earth again. My favorite part of the winter is the short days and long nights. The stone patio of the theater looked out upon a perfect spot for watching the sunset. I stood in awe of the beautiful array of clouds and colors projected across the sky for what seemed like hours. I floated in between time for a short while, and allowed my head to clear. I let out a sigh, satisfied. It felt like I had breathed out my soul.
I returned to my computer with a message waiting, from my terminal.
"Terminal 01#Relinquished@nny.optonline.663-net: Soul, We have got a problem."
Maybe today isn't going to be as boring as I thought.
(End Chapter 9.)
Monday, December 17, 2007
Chapter 8 "Humdrum Life"
By now, you must realize that I spend way too much time inside my own head. I don't have time for errors, donning different personalities and identities. So when I'm not under that pressure, I'm still under that pressure. I've really learned to appreciate the time I get to sleep. Fall through darkness, the only time that I feel completely real. I'm always alone when I sleep, when I dream. Thats the best part about it. "WHERE EVIL DWELLS, NORTH FORK, LI" Oh, well thats my queue. Time to become synthetic again.
I opened my eyes to the pounding sound of Fear Factory, screaming about evil. Their sinister guitar riffs where enough to drag me out of my bed. My sound system powered off with a distinct click. My clock read 2:55PM. Though, it was actually 1:45... Stupid clock. I enjoy the luxury of sleeping so late because I decided to take some time off of school to 'find myself.' Of course, my parents don't know about that. Another example of a fake identity I had to carry.
My laptop was flashing red prompts at me. Some random emails from my Mom, job offers and I had an indication that I had a Facebook message. My house was silent in the aftermath of my massive alarm clock, so the clicking of the keys was somewhat refreshing. I checked all of my contacts, to see if I had any true 'work' lined up for today. No hits. Thats nice, but boring. I decided to have some fun in Westchester's backbone servers. I jumped through finding activity everywhere. People checking email, watching porn, looking up cooking recipes and the list continues. The information was all passing through my computer, for me to do what I liked with it. I watched the passwords and various serial numbers pile up with extreme speed. Big Brother is always watching. I grew bored of this operation fairly quickly, as it wasn't an active process. My spiders did all the work for me.
As the stereotype would have it, my room was located in the basement of that small but quaint house. This didn't allow me direct privacy, but with the upside of having an entire floor and dedicated room for my cluster nodes. My office doubled as the laundry room, which had it's ups and downs. My office, where most of my dirty work took place was lit by florescent lights, with a white tile floor extending throughout the basement. I had your average computer desk in here, and a seemingly innocent laptop. My walls were populated by various posters, drawings and other objects. There were stolen road signs, a fried video card, halves of skateboards, I could keep going. My walls were my own little collage you could say. I loved this place.
Beep beep da-da-ta-da-dum, My cellphone happily chimed and vibrated on my desk. The caller ID read 'Max Miller.' I answered, partially realizing why I receiving the call.
"Hey Maximus, What's up?"
"Nothing much dude, except that you aren't at work."
"Fuck. I'll be there in ten minutes."
"Cool. Later."
"Later."
I checked my clock again, and it mockingly read 4:30PM. I guess time really flies when you're having fun.
(End Chapter 8.)
I opened my eyes to the pounding sound of Fear Factory, screaming about evil. Their sinister guitar riffs where enough to drag me out of my bed. My sound system powered off with a distinct click. My clock read 2:55PM. Though, it was actually 1:45... Stupid clock. I enjoy the luxury of sleeping so late because I decided to take some time off of school to 'find myself.' Of course, my parents don't know about that. Another example of a fake identity I had to carry.
My laptop was flashing red prompts at me. Some random emails from my Mom, job offers and I had an indication that I had a Facebook message. My house was silent in the aftermath of my massive alarm clock, so the clicking of the keys was somewhat refreshing. I checked all of my contacts, to see if I had any true 'work' lined up for today. No hits. Thats nice, but boring. I decided to have some fun in Westchester's backbone servers. I jumped through finding activity everywhere. People checking email, watching porn, looking up cooking recipes and the list continues. The information was all passing through my computer, for me to do what I liked with it. I watched the passwords and various serial numbers pile up with extreme speed. Big Brother is always watching. I grew bored of this operation fairly quickly, as it wasn't an active process. My spiders did all the work for me.
As the stereotype would have it, my room was located in the basement of that small but quaint house. This didn't allow me direct privacy, but with the upside of having an entire floor and dedicated room for my cluster nodes. My office doubled as the laundry room, which had it's ups and downs. My office, where most of my dirty work took place was lit by florescent lights, with a white tile floor extending throughout the basement. I had your average computer desk in here, and a seemingly innocent laptop. My walls were populated by various posters, drawings and other objects. There were stolen road signs, a fried video card, halves of skateboards, I could keep going. My walls were my own little collage you could say. I loved this place.
Beep beep da-da-ta-da-dum, My cellphone happily chimed and vibrated on my desk. The caller ID read 'Max Miller.' I answered, partially realizing why I receiving the call.
"Hey Maximus, What's up?"
"Nothing much dude, except that you aren't at work."
"Fuck. I'll be there in ten minutes."
"Cool. Later."
"Later."
I checked my clock again, and it mockingly read 4:30PM. I guess time really flies when you're having fun.
(End Chapter 8.)
Thursday, December 13, 2007
Chapter 7 "Pugilism"
"When you're numb, the world is your enemy." Something I came to realize a very long time ago. The center man stepped forward. I saw the red bandana underneath his hood. It didn't take much to realize what was happening.
"Yo. Where ya from?"
"Around. What difference is it to you?" I was unsure if it was a good idea to provoke them.
"Fork over ya fuckin' money, If ya know wha' good for ya."
Alex stepped closer to me, and I put her behind me.
"I'd rather not. It is way past our bedtime, so if you'll excuse me gentlemen." Adrenaline was already coursing through my veins again. My heart rate increased to prepare for what ever was going to happen.
"Imma kill you fool. And ya bitch too."
"Wrong."
I felt my boot connect with his ribs immediately. Before he even knew what was coming. Before I even realized what I had done. My crushing blow took them all by surprise, and this was all I needed. We ran as fast as we could, back up that winding block. My lungs burned. My heart raced, and threatened to break out of it's housing inside my chest. My mind was moving many times faster than my heart. Mayflower connects with Edison which connects to Middletown. We ran up one block, and then up the next. I only saw two pursuers behind us. I could tell they were too out of shape to keep this up for much longer. Trees flashed by me, parked cars, many different colors and shapes. I was flying through time, with my new companion. My muscles wanted to stop, but my mind would not allow. Could not allow. I could tell Alex was tiring too. We made a sharp left at Philip Ave, and ran up into a driveway. There was a blue Ford Taurus parked there. I motioned her down, and we crouched behind the car out of sight.
I heard our pursuers run by the driveway. Wheezing and coughing. It was now that I appreciated all those trips to the skate park in the summer. The pursuit was over, and the prey had escaped. I breathed hard, but quietly. Alex looked at me, and relaxed her tense face.
"So.. Where'd you learn to run like that?" I was very interested in the new girl I had just met minutes before.
"Preston Track team actually."
"Oh god, you were a Preston girl?"
"Save it, Soul. Lets get the fuck out of here."
My nose was starting to run. I got up and started to walk towards the end of the driveway. Alex followed shortly behind me. I crouched down at the end of the driveway, and peered out. Coast was clear. We both exited and continued down this very dark block. The streetlights were out in too many spots for us to be seen outright. I appreciated the darkness, because in darkness I didn't have a shadow, Iwas the shadow.
"Well, as luck would have it... This is where I parked."
"Fancy that... Holy shit. Is this your car?"
"Uhh.. Yes."
"A 65' Big Block 454 Chevelle?!"
"Quiet, Soul. I know she's a beauty but I don't feel like having the windows bashed in tonight."
"It's snowing though. This is no winter car."
"I didn't have a choice. Daddy dearest took my Beemer."
"...I've got a lot to learn about you, Don't I?"
"Yup. Thanks for saving the day back there."
She kissed me on the cheek. It was warm. But I'm too cold for that.
"Catch you later, Alex. I'll be giving you a call tomorrow about that information drop."
"See you Soul."
I stood for a moment, to listen to the 454 cubic inch big block engine awaken. It's throaty roar echoed down the empty street as she pulled off. What a car. What a girl. What a night. I was back to the loneliness I loved so much. In the distance, I heard car horns blaring, and a bus chugging it's way down the street. The world had started to awaken, and it was time for me to go to sleep.
I made the jog back to my humble car quick as possible. I found my keys exactly where I left them. The lock click seemed so insignificant at this hour. The light from the sky told me that my night was fading quickly. My engine came to life immediately. The cold cabin of my car was inviting. I grabbed a tissue from my center console to wipe my nose. My lights clicked on as I rolled away. The roads were still wet and soggy from the snow during the night. The drive home was silent and thoughtless. My mind was still reeling from the events, but was too exhausted to process them. I reached my home with ease, just as I saw the sky blend gray-orange. The sun would be coming up very soon. My car's digital clock seemed to sparkle. 5:23. My door slam seemed to cascade down my block. Empty and lifeless as it was, I felt at home here, now. My walk up the pathway was unobstructed except for the hairs length of snowfall. My monotonous gray steps were now more white than ever.
My first step onto the snowy step, was my error. I slipped on it, forgetting about the icy layer that hid underneath the snow. My knee smashed against the hard concrete. At first, I moaned in pain. And then I began to laugh. It was incredibly ironic, after having escaped so many circumstances unscathed, I fell victim to ice. I entered my warm home. My bed was more inviting than ever before. And sleep surprisingly came easy.
(End Chapter 7.)
"Yo. Where ya from?"
"Around. What difference is it to you?" I was unsure if it was a good idea to provoke them.
"Fork over ya fuckin' money, If ya know wha' good for ya."
Alex stepped closer to me, and I put her behind me.
"I'd rather not. It is way past our bedtime, so if you'll excuse me gentlemen." Adrenaline was already coursing through my veins again. My heart rate increased to prepare for what ever was going to happen.
"Imma kill you fool. And ya bitch too."
"Wrong."
I felt my boot connect with his ribs immediately. Before he even knew what was coming. Before I even realized what I had done. My crushing blow took them all by surprise, and this was all I needed. We ran as fast as we could, back up that winding block. My lungs burned. My heart raced, and threatened to break out of it's housing inside my chest. My mind was moving many times faster than my heart. Mayflower connects with Edison which connects to Middletown. We ran up one block, and then up the next. I only saw two pursuers behind us. I could tell they were too out of shape to keep this up for much longer. Trees flashed by me, parked cars, many different colors and shapes. I was flying through time, with my new companion. My muscles wanted to stop, but my mind would not allow. Could not allow. I could tell Alex was tiring too. We made a sharp left at Philip Ave, and ran up into a driveway. There was a blue Ford Taurus parked there. I motioned her down, and we crouched behind the car out of sight.
I heard our pursuers run by the driveway. Wheezing and coughing. It was now that I appreciated all those trips to the skate park in the summer. The pursuit was over, and the prey had escaped. I breathed hard, but quietly. Alex looked at me, and relaxed her tense face.
"So.. Where'd you learn to run like that?" I was very interested in the new girl I had just met minutes before.
"Preston Track team actually."
"Oh god, you were a Preston girl?"
"Save it, Soul. Lets get the fuck out of here."
My nose was starting to run. I got up and started to walk towards the end of the driveway. Alex followed shortly behind me. I crouched down at the end of the driveway, and peered out. Coast was clear. We both exited and continued down this very dark block. The streetlights were out in too many spots for us to be seen outright. I appreciated the darkness, because in darkness I didn't have a shadow, Iwas the shadow.
"Well, as luck would have it... This is where I parked."
"Fancy that... Holy shit. Is this your car?"
"Uhh.. Yes."
"A 65' Big Block 454 Chevelle?!"
"Quiet, Soul. I know she's a beauty but I don't feel like having the windows bashed in tonight."
"It's snowing though. This is no winter car."
"I didn't have a choice. Daddy dearest took my Beemer."
"...I've got a lot to learn about you, Don't I?"
"Yup. Thanks for saving the day back there."
She kissed me on the cheek. It was warm. But I'm too cold for that.
"Catch you later, Alex. I'll be giving you a call tomorrow about that information drop."
"See you Soul."
I stood for a moment, to listen to the 454 cubic inch big block engine awaken. It's throaty roar echoed down the empty street as she pulled off. What a car. What a girl. What a night. I was back to the loneliness I loved so much. In the distance, I heard car horns blaring, and a bus chugging it's way down the street. The world had started to awaken, and it was time for me to go to sleep.
I made the jog back to my humble car quick as possible. I found my keys exactly where I left them. The lock click seemed so insignificant at this hour. The light from the sky told me that my night was fading quickly. My engine came to life immediately. The cold cabin of my car was inviting. I grabbed a tissue from my center console to wipe my nose. My lights clicked on as I rolled away. The roads were still wet and soggy from the snow during the night. The drive home was silent and thoughtless. My mind was still reeling from the events, but was too exhausted to process them. I reached my home with ease, just as I saw the sky blend gray-orange. The sun would be coming up very soon. My car's digital clock seemed to sparkle. 5:23. My door slam seemed to cascade down my block. Empty and lifeless as it was, I felt at home here, now. My walk up the pathway was unobstructed except for the hairs length of snowfall. My monotonous gray steps were now more white than ever.
My first step onto the snowy step, was my error. I slipped on it, forgetting about the icy layer that hid underneath the snow. My knee smashed against the hard concrete. At first, I moaned in pain. And then I began to laugh. It was incredibly ironic, after having escaped so many circumstances unscathed, I fell victim to ice. I entered my warm home. My bed was more inviting than ever before. And sleep surprisingly came easy.
(End Chapter 7.)
Chapter 6 "Coffee can be dangerous."
"Sometimes I have to look in the mirror just to make sure I'm still here... Thats how numb I am." Explaining that to people was always so tough. I turned around quickly, to see Laura decked out in her long peacoat with a black scarf. I liked her style. Her long hair blew in the slight cold breeze. She smiled at me from feet away, and suddenly my environment seemed insignificant. The orange glow of the streetlights reflected off of her pupils. Like artificial fire, in her soul.
"Hey stranger. Following me are you?"
"Maybe. Where are you headed? It'll be sun up soon, and you need to get inside. Don't forget, the sun burns vampires."
"Thanks for the tip. I'm going to get a morning coffee actually. Feel like joining me?"
"Coffee can be dangerous. I'm in."
And on that note, I turned back to walking. She caught up and reengaged me.
"So.. I see you're fitting into our little group very nicely." She laughed. So did I.
"Yeah, I guess you could say that. How did you get mixed up in them anyway?"
"A big mistake, but I got a pretty enticing work order from Ken. And it's paid off really well so far."
"Yeah.. I'm hoping to get into some of that myself. But we'll see. Money has never really been too much to me."
"It'll pull you in quicker than you'll realize." I'm not like other people here, in case you haven't noticed.
"We'll see."
We walked down the serpentine block, in silence. I'll tell you, it was slightly awkward. And unexpected, from someone with a fiery personality. I could tell something was bothering her, and honestly I wasn't in any mood to be light. I was blunt.
"So.. What do you need?"
"...Uh. What?"
"You were the one who contacted me. So far anybody I've talked to had been reached by Ken. Unless you were stalking me, I've got something you need."
"And you Soul, live up to every aspect of your shadow."
"Thanks. I appreciate that."
"Alright. So... My name is actually Alex Johannson. I'm from North Carolina. My mother and father died long ago, and I've been living with my foster parents in NY. I am actually 18 though. I hacked myself into a corner. A very tight one."
Pause. This girl actually managed to hack bait for me. And I bit it like a hungry fish. I'm honestly, very impressed. This has to be good. Play.
"Where is this corner located?"
"FBI Black-Hole List. Secure Server #3445A On PPT151."
"Holy shit. What the hell were you doing on there?"
"Erasing my name from it of course. I've been on it since I was 10, and frankly, I'm tired of it." Honestly, you are starting to sound like me the more we talk.
"So. What's the timer on your arrest?"
"The request for it went in 2 days ago, it'll reach New York in another 2 days. And then, off to jail I go."
"Give me a flash drive with your information, the server's location, and the SSNs of both your identities. I'll do a little cross-link from Amsterdam and it'll buy you some time to fix your mistake."
"Wait..."
"Sorry. I don't finish other people's business for them. I'll open the door. But you have to walk through it."
"Why, How kind of you Morpheus." She smiled.
"Don't mention it." I smiled back.
The sound of our feet crunching against the ground could be heard for miles. It seemed more like we were traversing a desert than a city street. We reached the coffee shop on the corner, only to find it closed. A digital clock inside the dirty window wore the time. 4:47 AM. I guess there was too much wishful thinking involved in this plan. I turned around to be faced by four hooded figures. It was too dark to make out their faces. The ghosts with their silent threat.
"You were very right, Alex. Coffee can be dangerous."
(End Chapter 6.)
"Hey stranger. Following me are you?"
"Maybe. Where are you headed? It'll be sun up soon, and you need to get inside. Don't forget, the sun burns vampires."
"Thanks for the tip. I'm going to get a morning coffee actually. Feel like joining me?"
"Coffee can be dangerous. I'm in."
And on that note, I turned back to walking. She caught up and reengaged me.
"So.. I see you're fitting into our little group very nicely." She laughed. So did I.
"Yeah, I guess you could say that. How did you get mixed up in them anyway?"
"A big mistake, but I got a pretty enticing work order from Ken. And it's paid off really well so far."
"Yeah.. I'm hoping to get into some of that myself. But we'll see. Money has never really been too much to me."
"It'll pull you in quicker than you'll realize." I'm not like other people here, in case you haven't noticed.
"We'll see."
We walked down the serpentine block, in silence. I'll tell you, it was slightly awkward. And unexpected, from someone with a fiery personality. I could tell something was bothering her, and honestly I wasn't in any mood to be light. I was blunt.
"So.. What do you need?"
"...Uh. What?"
"You were the one who contacted me. So far anybody I've talked to had been reached by Ken. Unless you were stalking me, I've got something you need."
"And you Soul, live up to every aspect of your shadow."
"Thanks. I appreciate that."
"Alright. So... My name is actually Alex Johannson. I'm from North Carolina. My mother and father died long ago, and I've been living with my foster parents in NY. I am actually 18 though. I hacked myself into a corner. A very tight one."
Pause. This girl actually managed to hack bait for me. And I bit it like a hungry fish. I'm honestly, very impressed. This has to be good. Play.
"Where is this corner located?"
"FBI Black-Hole List. Secure Server #3445A On PPT151."
"Holy shit. What the hell were you doing on there?"
"Erasing my name from it of course. I've been on it since I was 10, and frankly, I'm tired of it." Honestly, you are starting to sound like me the more we talk.
"So. What's the timer on your arrest?"
"The request for it went in 2 days ago, it'll reach New York in another 2 days. And then, off to jail I go."
"Give me a flash drive with your information, the server's location, and the SSNs of both your identities. I'll do a little cross-link from Amsterdam and it'll buy you some time to fix your mistake."
"Wait..."
"Sorry. I don't finish other people's business for them. I'll open the door. But you have to walk through it."
"Why, How kind of you Morpheus." She smiled.
"Don't mention it." I smiled back.
The sound of our feet crunching against the ground could be heard for miles. It seemed more like we were traversing a desert than a city street. We reached the coffee shop on the corner, only to find it closed. A digital clock inside the dirty window wore the time. 4:47 AM. I guess there was too much wishful thinking involved in this plan. I turned around to be faced by four hooded figures. It was too dark to make out their faces. The ghosts with their silent threat.
"You were very right, Alex. Coffee can be dangerous."
(End Chapter 6.)
Tuesday, December 11, 2007
Chapter 5 "The Test"
(If somebody happens to find an error whether it be grammar or punctuation, feel free to leave me a comment with the sentence with the error so I can fix it. Thanks.)
"Life is beautiful when you're numb." Not being numb, means being vulnerable. And I can't stand vulnerability. Everyone left the room and headed over to their desks. I stood behind everyone, with my arms crossed. Laura went over to the switchboard on the wall. The lights dimmed very low.
"A little lighting to set the mood." Another sexy wink in my direction. I could tell I was going to enjoy this.
Some light tapping on their backlit keyboards, screens flashing with life and activity as everyone synchronized.
"Concrete, Go."
"Band Aid, Go."
"Relinquished, Go."
"Moray, Go"
"What's the target?" Time to assert some authority.
"2X2 Attack on a Miami Police Database server." Laura became 'Relinquished' seamlessly.
"I see. Alright then. Fratelli, Laura is going to get you a police database login prompt. Get yourself into the system." Here's where it really matters.
"Are you sure about that? Won't they be able to trace it back to me?" They could.
"No, Laura will make sure of that. You know what I'm thinking?" She turned around and smiled. Great minds think alike.
While she got to work on that, I decided to make use of my newly minted soldiers.
"Vince, still remember how to decrypt encrypted links on the fly?"
"I don't take orders from you, Soul."
"You do now, or I'll do it myself."
Vince was silent.
"Just as I thought. Now, as I was saying. Decrypt the link between Laura and the Miami P.D. Rehash the ID after it's been authenticated, so our good friend Gino here suffers no consequence. Is the door open Crete?"
"Door open." Ken replied, snake-like.
"Moray, you're up. Start downloading the files through that open door. The authentication window closes in 10 seconds."
"Way ahead of you, Soul. Documents received and decrypted." I appreciated Chris' enthusiasm.
"Well done. Close that wound up, and make sure there isn't a scar."
It didn't take more than a moment for them to finish what they started. They were gifted as a group, and singularly. The people I obviously have to worry about, Ken and Vince weren't as powerful as their opposition. My pieces were employing my strong strategy. While constantly calculating my own vulnerabilities. I felt invincible.
"You all pass." I removed a flash drive that had been hidden in the "secret" pocket in my jacket. "Here are the 1024 keys for the DMV of Massachusetts. That includes my server I.P. Don't take it for granted. Keys expire in a week."
"Don't take for yourself for granted, James." Ken had to have the last word in.
"I'll let myself out." And I gave everyone a wave as I walked up the creaky, dusty hardwood stairs. My life would drastically change after this night, I would soon find out. But for now, I was happy for my immediate success. I walked out the large black door, to be greeted again by the cold. It was nice to have my trusty leather jacket, I felt safe and it kept me warm.
I checked my pocket to make sure I still had my 4 dollars, even wallet-less I wouldn't be surprised if I had lost it. I walked in the opposite direction of my car, towards the main street 2 blocks away. As I walked, I ventured into my mind for a while. Since I was a kid, I always loved the vividness of the night. In the day, everything is vibrant and colorful. But the night is vivid. Your other senses come to life. They are being challenged to handle the changed environment. And at the same time, you have to enjoy the peace. The day is filled with too much chaos sometimes. Thats why I loved being nocturnal. A car hummed past me down the street. The wetness of the ground shone in the streetlight. Ice never stands a chance in the city. The air smelled of crisp freshly fallen snow. I was melting into the beautiful night again, basking in my own thoughts.
"Hey Vampire."
I knew that voice anywhere.
"Life is beautiful when you're numb." Not being numb, means being vulnerable. And I can't stand vulnerability. Everyone left the room and headed over to their desks. I stood behind everyone, with my arms crossed. Laura went over to the switchboard on the wall. The lights dimmed very low.
"A little lighting to set the mood." Another sexy wink in my direction. I could tell I was going to enjoy this.
Some light tapping on their backlit keyboards, screens flashing with life and activity as everyone synchronized.
"Concrete, Go."
"Band Aid, Go."
"Relinquished, Go."
"Moray, Go"
"What's the target?" Time to assert some authority.
"2X2 Attack on a Miami Police Database server." Laura became 'Relinquished' seamlessly.
"I see. Alright then. Fratelli, Laura is going to get you a police database login prompt. Get yourself into the system." Here's where it really matters.
"Are you sure about that? Won't they be able to trace it back to me?" They could.
"No, Laura will make sure of that. You know what I'm thinking?" She turned around and smiled. Great minds think alike.
While she got to work on that, I decided to make use of my newly minted soldiers.
"Vince, still remember how to decrypt encrypted links on the fly?"
"I don't take orders from you, Soul."
"You do now, or I'll do it myself."
Vince was silent.
"Just as I thought. Now, as I was saying. Decrypt the link between Laura and the Miami P.D. Rehash the ID after it's been authenticated, so our good friend Gino here suffers no consequence. Is the door open Crete?"
"Door open." Ken replied, snake-like.
"Moray, you're up. Start downloading the files through that open door. The authentication window closes in 10 seconds."
"Way ahead of you, Soul. Documents received and decrypted." I appreciated Chris' enthusiasm.
"Well done. Close that wound up, and make sure there isn't a scar."
It didn't take more than a moment for them to finish what they started. They were gifted as a group, and singularly. The people I obviously have to worry about, Ken and Vince weren't as powerful as their opposition. My pieces were employing my strong strategy. While constantly calculating my own vulnerabilities. I felt invincible.
"You all pass." I removed a flash drive that had been hidden in the "secret" pocket in my jacket. "Here are the 1024 keys for the DMV of Massachusetts. That includes my server I.P. Don't take it for granted. Keys expire in a week."
"Don't take for yourself for granted, James." Ken had to have the last word in.
"I'll let myself out." And I gave everyone a wave as I walked up the creaky, dusty hardwood stairs. My life would drastically change after this night, I would soon find out. But for now, I was happy for my immediate success. I walked out the large black door, to be greeted again by the cold. It was nice to have my trusty leather jacket, I felt safe and it kept me warm.
I checked my pocket to make sure I still had my 4 dollars, even wallet-less I wouldn't be surprised if I had lost it. I walked in the opposite direction of my car, towards the main street 2 blocks away. As I walked, I ventured into my mind for a while. Since I was a kid, I always loved the vividness of the night. In the day, everything is vibrant and colorful. But the night is vivid. Your other senses come to life. They are being challenged to handle the changed environment. And at the same time, you have to enjoy the peace. The day is filled with too much chaos sometimes. Thats why I loved being nocturnal. A car hummed past me down the street. The wetness of the ground shone in the streetlight. Ice never stands a chance in the city. The air smelled of crisp freshly fallen snow. I was melting into the beautiful night again, basking in my own thoughts.
"Hey Vampire."
I knew that voice anywhere.
Sunday, December 9, 2007
Chapter 4 "The Meeting"
I turned around in my seat to see Gino walking down the stairs. A bit on the heavy side, with a black goatee and spiked hair.
He was wearing a police uniform, which was unsettling. I arose and stood still for a second, but I received a very close whisper.
"Don't worry, he's with us."
Laura moved past me, dangerously close. I outstretched my hand to Fratelli. It was embossed in his gold name tag. A name I would not soon forget. He shook it, and I introduced myself.
"Old Soul. But Soul is just fine."
"Fratelli. But I'm sure you already know, for various reasons." He smiled. It wasn't the devilish grin that Kenneth carries.
Something about the way that Fratelli went about himself was very disarming to me. However, I did not let that infiltrate me as easily as it should've. Call me paranoid.
"So.. Soul. Where are you from?"
"Around. How'd you come into contact with Ken and the others?"
In the background of our conversation, Laura and Ken were corralling the others into another room in the basement. One I did not notice when I walked in. The room went silent in between the whirring of the hard drives and our interrogation of each other.
"Crete came into contact with me, with an offer I couldn't resist."
"Thats how it usually goes. Lets go see what's going on."
It was cute how Kenneth manipulated everyone into calling him by his pseudonym. I almost felt respect for him. Almost.
Fratelli walked in front of me into the room. I stood for just a moment and thought to myself. These people were not exactly what I was expecting. Instead of leaders, I just saw a marionette. It was too easy to plan my next move against my opponent.
I examined the doorway I was walking through. And it was then I realized why I didn't immediately notice it. It was a bookshelf. I admired the style of the person who built this room. Very secret agent.
I slowly made my way through this peculiar doorway, into the smaller room. There was a nice hardwood table setup, with a video phone in the center. It was spacious enough for the 6 people that occupied it. Perfectly actually. The walls were a mahogany red with molding and continuing blue plush rug motif from the large room. There were no windows in this room, and it was lit by a florescent light in comparison to the natural lights in the large room. It felt more artificial. Understandably so.
At the head of the table sat Kenneth. To his left, Vince and Chris. To his right, Laura and Fratelli. There was one seat open at the opposite head of the table. I loved the metaphor we unknowingly created. Like chess partners at opposite ends of the board. Moving our pieces against each other.
"Nice of you to join us, Soul."
"My pleasure. Shall we begin? I'm growing weary of this waiting game."
"The fact that you're now permanent fixture in our organization, means that you'll have to give me a bit more respect. I am after all, the leader."
"You know what Ken? You haven't done anything to earn that respect. And don't mistake me for a permanent part of this. I'll tell you if I feel that way."
This drew looks of disgust from Vince. Chris was indifferent. But Fratelli and Laura did not act the same, they seemed half amazed and half interested. This gave me the confidence I needed for the next move. I spoke up.
"You know what I bring to the table. Unrestricted access to the DMV databases, in multiple states. The ability to fake administration in two major bank chains. Police database access for the NYPD, and NY State Troopers. Finally, FBI watch list information. All of these systems controlled by my Amsterdam services, but with local servers stashed around the state. These all protected by SHA-2 1024-Bit Encryption. I'd love to see you try and break that. It takes me an hour just to authenticate. Double IP faking, and routing through California from an old friend of mine. You want access? Prove to me that you deserve it. Show me what you've got."
"James here thinks he can enter and challenge us." Kenneth looked surprised by this move.
"Don't be a fool. This isn't a challenge, it's a test. If you pass, then you'll become the 'Vicious 6'. If not, then I walk. By the way, I am not afraid of my name. So feel free to call me that if you'd like."
"How dare you come to this table and challenge us? What gives you the right?" Thats right, Ken. Good boy, back into that corner.
"I have the right. I have what you need. It's easy to tell because you would've done all of that if you had the ability. Lets see who agrees with me."
Laura, Fratelli and Chris raised their hands. Done. Checkmate for now.
"Fine. Everyone to their stations. Lets make this quick." Ken was infuriated, but defeated. For now.
And so the test began.
(End Chapter 4)
He was wearing a police uniform, which was unsettling. I arose and stood still for a second, but I received a very close whisper.
"Don't worry, he's with us."
Laura moved past me, dangerously close. I outstretched my hand to Fratelli. It was embossed in his gold name tag. A name I would not soon forget. He shook it, and I introduced myself.
"Old Soul. But Soul is just fine."
"Fratelli. But I'm sure you already know, for various reasons." He smiled. It wasn't the devilish grin that Kenneth carries.
Something about the way that Fratelli went about himself was very disarming to me. However, I did not let that infiltrate me as easily as it should've. Call me paranoid.
"So.. Soul. Where are you from?"
"Around. How'd you come into contact with Ken and the others?"
In the background of our conversation, Laura and Ken were corralling the others into another room in the basement. One I did not notice when I walked in. The room went silent in between the whirring of the hard drives and our interrogation of each other.
"Crete came into contact with me, with an offer I couldn't resist."
"Thats how it usually goes. Lets go see what's going on."
It was cute how Kenneth manipulated everyone into calling him by his pseudonym. I almost felt respect for him. Almost.
Fratelli walked in front of me into the room. I stood for just a moment and thought to myself. These people were not exactly what I was expecting. Instead of leaders, I just saw a marionette. It was too easy to plan my next move against my opponent.
I examined the doorway I was walking through. And it was then I realized why I didn't immediately notice it. It was a bookshelf. I admired the style of the person who built this room. Very secret agent.
I slowly made my way through this peculiar doorway, into the smaller room. There was a nice hardwood table setup, with a video phone in the center. It was spacious enough for the 6 people that occupied it. Perfectly actually. The walls were a mahogany red with molding and continuing blue plush rug motif from the large room. There were no windows in this room, and it was lit by a florescent light in comparison to the natural lights in the large room. It felt more artificial. Understandably so.
At the head of the table sat Kenneth. To his left, Vince and Chris. To his right, Laura and Fratelli. There was one seat open at the opposite head of the table. I loved the metaphor we unknowingly created. Like chess partners at opposite ends of the board. Moving our pieces against each other.
"Nice of you to join us, Soul."
"My pleasure. Shall we begin? I'm growing weary of this waiting game."
"The fact that you're now permanent fixture in our organization, means that you'll have to give me a bit more respect. I am after all, the leader."
"You know what Ken? You haven't done anything to earn that respect. And don't mistake me for a permanent part of this. I'll tell you if I feel that way."
This drew looks of disgust from Vince. Chris was indifferent. But Fratelli and Laura did not act the same, they seemed half amazed and half interested. This gave me the confidence I needed for the next move. I spoke up.
"You know what I bring to the table. Unrestricted access to the DMV databases, in multiple states. The ability to fake administration in two major bank chains. Police database access for the NYPD, and NY State Troopers. Finally, FBI watch list information. All of these systems controlled by my Amsterdam services, but with local servers stashed around the state. These all protected by SHA-2 1024-Bit Encryption. I'd love to see you try and break that. It takes me an hour just to authenticate. Double IP faking, and routing through California from an old friend of mine. You want access? Prove to me that you deserve it. Show me what you've got."
"James here thinks he can enter and challenge us." Kenneth looked surprised by this move.
"Don't be a fool. This isn't a challenge, it's a test. If you pass, then you'll become the 'Vicious 6'. If not, then I walk. By the way, I am not afraid of my name. So feel free to call me that if you'd like."
"How dare you come to this table and challenge us? What gives you the right?" Thats right, Ken. Good boy, back into that corner.
"I have the right. I have what you need. It's easy to tell because you would've done all of that if you had the ability. Lets see who agrees with me."
Laura, Fratelli and Chris raised their hands. Done. Checkmate for now.
"Fine. Everyone to their stations. Lets make this quick." Ken was infuriated, but defeated. For now.
And so the test began.
(End Chapter 4)
Friday, December 7, 2007
Chapter 3 "Enter, Vicious"
The doorway was dark, but strangely inviting. I walked inside and the door shut softly. I was greeted by a girl and immediately my research flashed into my head. Laura Hernandez. Bronx resident since birth, attended I.S. 128 for middle school, Lehman High School and then Westchester Community College for a semester before dropping out. A+ Student until that semester, lived on 2203 Watercrest Ave, Bronx NY 10465. No drivers license, but a very gifted hacker. 18 years old too. Same as me. The best of the "Vicious" if I had to say. Went by the name of 'Relinquished'. The only person within this circle to have no previous attention from any law enforcement agency.
"Hello Laura."
I stopped to examine the room for a second. Or maybe I was examining her. I sure don't remember much of the room. She was about 5'4, with long brunette hair. Slender too. But it was too dark to see her eyes. They probably would've given her away. Her dominican and italian mixture gave her olive skin. Her picture didn't give her curves justice.
"James. Nice to finally meet the man behind the Soul." With a sultry wink to top it all off, a well prepared welcome.
"May I come in?"
"Well, they say that vampires can only enter your home if you invite them in. It's too bad you're already in here." She reached for her ear for just a second, and seemed to be talking to herself. "Soul is here. Can he come down?"
She motioned towards the barely lighted staircase. I started to glance around the room to really get a gauge for what I was walking into. It was in essence an abandoned home, that they had hacked themselves into ownership of. Not an easy task, in my opinion. But a few simple changes on a person's will, and the house was theirs. I suppose it wasn't as hard as I originally thought. The stairs we're old and dusty hardwood. It seemed like they were going to give way underneath me, and I was cautious. Ironically, more cautious than when I traversed the icy stairs at my own home.
I looked around the curve of the spiral staircase to see a surprising sight. The room was bright with natural light lamps. The windows we're boarded up with plywood, eerily almost. The room felt warm, but I wasn't planning on removing my jacket. My boots were greeted by a plush blue rug. The basement of that old house, was surprizingly spacious. Each operator had quite a good amount of room in their favor, not to mention the assortment of equipment on the opposite side of the room. I saw GPS systems, cell phone jammers, Police scanners, a computer dedicated to Front Door Video. I could go on and on. There were various other systems set up, with 5 24' inch Samsung screens set up across 5 desks. I saw different prompts flashing on the screens. Activities no doubt related to our operation. Each desk was it's own design, one aluminum, the other pressed wood, one was even glass panes. Quite an unexpected sight indeed. These were no ordinary people. The 6th was unoccupied, a glass pane suspended on a brushed aluminum frame.
My eyes met with each different operator, and my photographic memory did not fail me. There were 3 out of the 6 members looking back at me. Closest to me, Vince Band. High school drop out from New Jersey. He is the definition of steroid abusing guido. Left his mom when he was 18, currently 20. He was an only child, parents divorced and he chose his mother. Smart kid, but just too cocky. He got caught while hacking into a bank, when he was 17. Scraped by with 100 hours community service. Extremely light punishment considering. He goes by the name of 'Band Aid', surprisingly clever. Next in the row, Chris Mohrayhey. 5'9, Dirty blonde hair, dark brown eyes. Formerly acne ridden face. He worked the books for a large chain lighting shop in Texas, and altered the money system to allow himself a piece of each transaction. Such an overplayed move for someone of his intelligence. He was caught and served 2 years in prison as an adult from 18 to 20. Parents separated shortly after his encounter with the law, he blames himself and since then has not stepped out of line. His father moved to New york, specifically Hudson Valley. It took a lot of coaxing to get him here tonight. I gave his profile a bit of extra attention because of the car he drives. Specifically a 2005 Audi A6. You'd be surprised what kind of information your bank statements can give away about you. I was jealous of his car, but not his attitude. He is due off of his probation in 6 months if his good behavior continues. I don't have to point out the irony in that too do I? Goes by the name 'Moray Eel'. I would've expected better from my 22 year old elder.
"Vince.. Chris.. Good to see you."
"Hey Soul." (They didn't do their homework, tsk tsk.)
I did save the best for last, of course. Kenneth Mason, otherwise known as 'Concrete'. On the FBI watch list because of certain black-hole activities. 19 year old child prodigy. Worked at a Data Centre in Ottawa for a year before he saved enough money to move to the U.S. He wrote a revision of the NetSky virus that I still keep stored on my hard drive, very destructive. He still highly employed by a data filtering company that runs out of NYC. I can't imagine what he's done to them. If I am an angel, then he would defiantly be a demon. Of course, at this time I saw him as a friend. I was blind. He gave me a wave to come and sit next to him. As I approached his desk, I examined it. Two computers, both externally water cooled, probably toting "stolen" quad core processors. He was moving fast through command line interfaces, sending and receiving feedback. He paused his work for a moment, and removed his headset.
"Nice to see you James. I'm glad you had the balls to show. How do you like the setup down here?"
"Pretty decent. Those antennae are jacking cell information huh?"
"Someone knows their hardware, then again I should've expected this from you Soul."
"Too bad I forgot my cell at home, Ken."
"Don't call me that."
"I'll keep that in mind. So, what's the uplink down here?"
"Satellite direct in good old Mama Band's name of course."
"Oh how nice. That explains how he only got off with 100 hours community service."
"We're still waiting on our last member..."
"...Gino Frattelli correct?"
"Yes."
"Where does he fit in here, all of us have.. experience. He does not have any."
"Gino is our equipment guy. You see all that jamming equipment? Yeah, stolen from an evidence locker actually."
"Ah. Nice. So the question I have on my mind, is simply what are we doing here?"
"Once all of us are here, we'll start our little meeting."
I paused from our conversation for a moment to glance around the room. My new friend Vince was snorting a line of white powder off of a mirror. I shudder to the thought that he has or had any credibility at all. He also broke the golden rule. Never break more than one law at once. Then again, this basement broke at least 50 per occupant. I laughed to myself. I can't even think of what could've happened to me had my instincts been wrong about this place, these people. Maybe I should've listened. I heard movement upstairs, and the sound of muffled voices. Our last member had arrived.
"Hello Laura."
I stopped to examine the room for a second. Or maybe I was examining her. I sure don't remember much of the room. She was about 5'4, with long brunette hair. Slender too. But it was too dark to see her eyes. They probably would've given her away. Her dominican and italian mixture gave her olive skin. Her picture didn't give her curves justice.
"James. Nice to finally meet the man behind the Soul." With a sultry wink to top it all off, a well prepared welcome.
"May I come in?"
"Well, they say that vampires can only enter your home if you invite them in. It's too bad you're already in here." She reached for her ear for just a second, and seemed to be talking to herself. "Soul is here. Can he come down?"
She motioned towards the barely lighted staircase. I started to glance around the room to really get a gauge for what I was walking into. It was in essence an abandoned home, that they had hacked themselves into ownership of. Not an easy task, in my opinion. But a few simple changes on a person's will, and the house was theirs. I suppose it wasn't as hard as I originally thought. The stairs we're old and dusty hardwood. It seemed like they were going to give way underneath me, and I was cautious. Ironically, more cautious than when I traversed the icy stairs at my own home.
I looked around the curve of the spiral staircase to see a surprising sight. The room was bright with natural light lamps. The windows we're boarded up with plywood, eerily almost. The room felt warm, but I wasn't planning on removing my jacket. My boots were greeted by a plush blue rug. The basement of that old house, was surprizingly spacious. Each operator had quite a good amount of room in their favor, not to mention the assortment of equipment on the opposite side of the room. I saw GPS systems, cell phone jammers, Police scanners, a computer dedicated to Front Door Video. I could go on and on. There were various other systems set up, with 5 24' inch Samsung screens set up across 5 desks. I saw different prompts flashing on the screens. Activities no doubt related to our operation. Each desk was it's own design, one aluminum, the other pressed wood, one was even glass panes. Quite an unexpected sight indeed. These were no ordinary people. The 6th was unoccupied, a glass pane suspended on a brushed aluminum frame.
My eyes met with each different operator, and my photographic memory did not fail me. There were 3 out of the 6 members looking back at me. Closest to me, Vince Band. High school drop out from New Jersey. He is the definition of steroid abusing guido. Left his mom when he was 18, currently 20. He was an only child, parents divorced and he chose his mother. Smart kid, but just too cocky. He got caught while hacking into a bank, when he was 17. Scraped by with 100 hours community service. Extremely light punishment considering. He goes by the name of 'Band Aid', surprisingly clever. Next in the row, Chris Mohrayhey. 5'9, Dirty blonde hair, dark brown eyes. Formerly acne ridden face. He worked the books for a large chain lighting shop in Texas, and altered the money system to allow himself a piece of each transaction. Such an overplayed move for someone of his intelligence. He was caught and served 2 years in prison as an adult from 18 to 20. Parents separated shortly after his encounter with the law, he blames himself and since then has not stepped out of line. His father moved to New york, specifically Hudson Valley. It took a lot of coaxing to get him here tonight. I gave his profile a bit of extra attention because of the car he drives. Specifically a 2005 Audi A6. You'd be surprised what kind of information your bank statements can give away about you. I was jealous of his car, but not his attitude. He is due off of his probation in 6 months if his good behavior continues. I don't have to point out the irony in that too do I? Goes by the name 'Moray Eel'. I would've expected better from my 22 year old elder.
"Vince.. Chris.. Good to see you."
"Hey Soul." (They didn't do their homework, tsk tsk.)
I did save the best for last, of course. Kenneth Mason, otherwise known as 'Concrete'. On the FBI watch list because of certain black-hole activities. 19 year old child prodigy. Worked at a Data Centre in Ottawa for a year before he saved enough money to move to the U.S. He wrote a revision of the NetSky virus that I still keep stored on my hard drive, very destructive. He still highly employed by a data filtering company that runs out of NYC. I can't imagine what he's done to them. If I am an angel, then he would defiantly be a demon. Of course, at this time I saw him as a friend. I was blind. He gave me a wave to come and sit next to him. As I approached his desk, I examined it. Two computers, both externally water cooled, probably toting "stolen" quad core processors. He was moving fast through command line interfaces, sending and receiving feedback. He paused his work for a moment, and removed his headset.
"Nice to see you James. I'm glad you had the balls to show. How do you like the setup down here?"
"Pretty decent. Those antennae are jacking cell information huh?"
"Someone knows their hardware, then again I should've expected this from you Soul."
"Too bad I forgot my cell at home, Ken."
"Don't call me that."
"I'll keep that in mind. So, what's the uplink down here?"
"Satellite direct in good old Mama Band's name of course."
"Oh how nice. That explains how he only got off with 100 hours community service."
"We're still waiting on our last member..."
"...Gino Frattelli correct?"
"Yes."
"Where does he fit in here, all of us have.. experience. He does not have any."
"Gino is our equipment guy. You see all that jamming equipment? Yeah, stolen from an evidence locker actually."
"Ah. Nice. So the question I have on my mind, is simply what are we doing here?"
"Once all of us are here, we'll start our little meeting."
I paused from our conversation for a moment to glance around the room. My new friend Vince was snorting a line of white powder off of a mirror. I shudder to the thought that he has or had any credibility at all. He also broke the golden rule. Never break more than one law at once. Then again, this basement broke at least 50 per occupant. I laughed to myself. I can't even think of what could've happened to me had my instincts been wrong about this place, these people. Maybe I should've listened. I heard movement upstairs, and the sound of muffled voices. Our last member had arrived.
Chapter 2 "The House"
"Ahhh.." I sighed out loud to myself as the vigorous guitar of Spineshank blasted from my cars humble speakers.
My car picked up pace quickly, after all I made it that way. I quickly reached 90 miles an hour. 100 came quicker. Trees blurred in my peripheral vision. 110 felt more like time was slowing for me. The adrenaline coursing in my veins raised my heart rate, while I gripped the steering wheel tighter with each passing second. 120 and seconds passed like hours. My car started to spin before I even began to realize it. The blurring trees became clear as I hurtled toward them. I had no time to think, no time to react or even get a word in edgewise. Time stopped for a split second, before I was obliterated by the tree. "He was going over 100 miles an hour, on an icy road." The papers would say. "There was nothing left of him." I blinked, and continued down the highway at blistering speed. It's too bad it was all in my head.
"Burn Baby, Burn.. Strung out on a wire" I sang loudly as I flew down the Hutch. No cops tonight, I thought to myself. Free to roam at whatever speed I please. Bullet-Proof skin was blaring out of my speakers and as always I found it ironic. I felt invincible. I reached my exit as the song finished and downshifted to keep from losing control. This part of the Bronx was just as equally desolate as my own hometown. Again, the comfort of the loneliness returned. I reached the destination street with ease, thanks to my memory of this area. I passed by the house, "350 Lafayette Ave... Welcome home." My car responded to my sarcasm with a reminder that I was low on brake fluid. "Yes yes, Don't worry I'll feed you later. I promise."
I parked on Mayflower, 4 blocks away. The last thing I wanted was these people to have was my license plate number and a profile of my car. I shut off my cell phone, stashed my wallet and house keys. I removed the fake identification I had freshly laminated the night before. "Enter... James Agrusa." My name that I had created from my grandfather and grandmother. They would be proud of me, I'm sure. Bootlegging a Massachusetts ID was too easy with the right tools. I admired my handiwork. I also armed myself with a small pocketknife. It would be unwise to come unarmed. I hid my iPod and 7 inch screen. No use drawing unneeded attention from petty thieves.
The cold welcomed me back into it's open arms, as I left my car. The click indicated all of my doors were locked. I stashed my car keys up underneath the chassis of my car. No reason to even give any hints that I even had a car at all. My walk was quick and purposeful as I strode towards "the house" I would come to call it. I memorized my surroundings as I passed. Mentally saving every picture of every detail. Overlooking something important could cost me too much.
This somewhat old, very box-like house sat 3 houses from the corner of this peculiar block. The house reminded me of a real life sandcastle. There were 6 windows, not including the back of the house that I could not see. It was an off-white with yellow rims around the windows. It had a flat roof, with two possible exit points. And no fire escape, which meant it was a single family house. It had a black front door, with a large deadbolt. The steps were ironically the same dull gray that I had seen not 15 minutes ago when I left my house. The lights were off in the house, and I felt singular standing there atop those steps. I searched for activity in the windows, almost desperately. Without even motioning for the doorbell, or any sort of indication of my presence. I stood there, for what seemed like an eternity. Finally, I heard sounds behind the door. The large black door creaked as it swung open.
(End Chapter 2)
My car picked up pace quickly, after all I made it that way. I quickly reached 90 miles an hour. 100 came quicker. Trees blurred in my peripheral vision. 110 felt more like time was slowing for me. The adrenaline coursing in my veins raised my heart rate, while I gripped the steering wheel tighter with each passing second. 120 and seconds passed like hours. My car started to spin before I even began to realize it. The blurring trees became clear as I hurtled toward them. I had no time to think, no time to react or even get a word in edgewise. Time stopped for a split second, before I was obliterated by the tree. "He was going over 100 miles an hour, on an icy road." The papers would say. "There was nothing left of him." I blinked, and continued down the highway at blistering speed. It's too bad it was all in my head.
"Burn Baby, Burn.. Strung out on a wire" I sang loudly as I flew down the Hutch. No cops tonight, I thought to myself. Free to roam at whatever speed I please. Bullet-Proof skin was blaring out of my speakers and as always I found it ironic. I felt invincible. I reached my exit as the song finished and downshifted to keep from losing control. This part of the Bronx was just as equally desolate as my own hometown. Again, the comfort of the loneliness returned. I reached the destination street with ease, thanks to my memory of this area. I passed by the house, "350 Lafayette Ave... Welcome home." My car responded to my sarcasm with a reminder that I was low on brake fluid. "Yes yes, Don't worry I'll feed you later. I promise."
I parked on Mayflower, 4 blocks away. The last thing I wanted was these people to have was my license plate number and a profile of my car. I shut off my cell phone, stashed my wallet and house keys. I removed the fake identification I had freshly laminated the night before. "Enter... James Agrusa." My name that I had created from my grandfather and grandmother. They would be proud of me, I'm sure. Bootlegging a Massachusetts ID was too easy with the right tools. I admired my handiwork. I also armed myself with a small pocketknife. It would be unwise to come unarmed. I hid my iPod and 7 inch screen. No use drawing unneeded attention from petty thieves.
The cold welcomed me back into it's open arms, as I left my car. The click indicated all of my doors were locked. I stashed my car keys up underneath the chassis of my car. No reason to even give any hints that I even had a car at all. My walk was quick and purposeful as I strode towards "the house" I would come to call it. I memorized my surroundings as I passed. Mentally saving every picture of every detail. Overlooking something important could cost me too much.
This somewhat old, very box-like house sat 3 houses from the corner of this peculiar block. The house reminded me of a real life sandcastle. There were 6 windows, not including the back of the house that I could not see. It was an off-white with yellow rims around the windows. It had a flat roof, with two possible exit points. And no fire escape, which meant it was a single family house. It had a black front door, with a large deadbolt. The steps were ironically the same dull gray that I had seen not 15 minutes ago when I left my house. The lights were off in the house, and I felt singular standing there atop those steps. I searched for activity in the windows, almost desperately. Without even motioning for the doorbell, or any sort of indication of my presence. I stood there, for what seemed like an eternity. Finally, I heard sounds behind the door. The large black door creaked as it swung open.
(End Chapter 2)
Chapter 1 "Snowy Night"
"Life is beautiful when you're numb." I have this quote to say to myself, over and over again.
I remember the night that I found out what I really was, even to this very moment as vividly if it was happening right now.
It was 3:56AM, on a beautifully crisp Friday morning.
"I probably shouldn't be doing this." I said to myself, as I exited my house via my side door. I was greeted by the same solemn gray steps as when I entered earlier that night. This time though, they glistened in the streetlight, having a thin sheet of ice over them. In hindsight, this was the most beautiful foreshadowing I've ever seen. But I chose just to walk as normal, with the subconscious wish to die by broken neck. That wish did not come true that night, to my dismay. This night was pure winter, the epitome of beauty in my mind. It was silent except for the light breeze washing over the near leafless trees. Light crisp snowfall shined in the streetlight, covering the grass and ground. The air I could almost taste as it filled my lungs, cold but refreshing. My black boots crunched the snow as I made my way towards the large white object that was my car. The moon was high in the sky, clashing with the orange glow of the streetlights, completing the serenity of the night. Their silent war could not have been more comforting. In my car I found no refuge from the cold, but this wasn't what was seeking. The click of the key entering my ignition was so loud on this quiet night. I even felt remorse that my engine would have to break this amazing silence. And yet, my engine came to life immediately, purring as it warmed to operating temperature. For 15 years old, it still purred vivaciously.
"Off We go." I said to myself, and my car as I shifted from Park into Drive. The light snowfall removed itself from my vision almost immediately after I started to move. My lights guided my way off my street, and onto the adjacent Wolfs Lane. It was a desolate night, and the loneliness was comforting. My cabin temperature remained at it's original temperature and I had no intention of warming it. I could still see my breath floating in the air, lingering slightly.. as if it was waiting for something. My iPod had not immediately started to play, but abruptly reminded me of it's presence with the sound of a loud guitar riff. So much for the beautiful silence of the night. I made the turn onto the on-ramp of Hutchinson Parkway Southbound easily, and my fingers went to work on my iPod. I picked out my playlist, simply labeled "Burn Baby, Burn." Telling the story over again, just lets me realize how much irony there was in the air that night.
I remember the night that I found out what I really was, even to this very moment as vividly if it was happening right now.
It was 3:56AM, on a beautifully crisp Friday morning.
"I probably shouldn't be doing this." I said to myself, as I exited my house via my side door. I was greeted by the same solemn gray steps as when I entered earlier that night. This time though, they glistened in the streetlight, having a thin sheet of ice over them. In hindsight, this was the most beautiful foreshadowing I've ever seen. But I chose just to walk as normal, with the subconscious wish to die by broken neck. That wish did not come true that night, to my dismay. This night was pure winter, the epitome of beauty in my mind. It was silent except for the light breeze washing over the near leafless trees. Light crisp snowfall shined in the streetlight, covering the grass and ground. The air I could almost taste as it filled my lungs, cold but refreshing. My black boots crunched the snow as I made my way towards the large white object that was my car. The moon was high in the sky, clashing with the orange glow of the streetlights, completing the serenity of the night. Their silent war could not have been more comforting. In my car I found no refuge from the cold, but this wasn't what was seeking. The click of the key entering my ignition was so loud on this quiet night. I even felt remorse that my engine would have to break this amazing silence. And yet, my engine came to life immediately, purring as it warmed to operating temperature. For 15 years old, it still purred vivaciously.
"Off We go." I said to myself, and my car as I shifted from Park into Drive. The light snowfall removed itself from my vision almost immediately after I started to move. My lights guided my way off my street, and onto the adjacent Wolfs Lane. It was a desolate night, and the loneliness was comforting. My cabin temperature remained at it's original temperature and I had no intention of warming it. I could still see my breath floating in the air, lingering slightly.. as if it was waiting for something. My iPod had not immediately started to play, but abruptly reminded me of it's presence with the sound of a loud guitar riff. So much for the beautiful silence of the night. I made the turn onto the on-ramp of Hutchinson Parkway Southbound easily, and my fingers went to work on my iPod. I picked out my playlist, simply labeled "Burn Baby, Burn." Telling the story over again, just lets me realize how much irony there was in the air that night.
Nobody Knows Me.
Nobody really knows anybody, the undertone of human existence.
People take pride in knowing their friends, in being able to predict their actions, and reactions.
My pride, lies in everyone I know. I know they all have their monsters, living inside them.
Waiting, patiently. Waiting for that vulnerable point where they can unleash themselves.
It's beautiful, the human mind. It can't handle it's own consciousness, which is by far the most irony I've ever seen.
Us as a species, take pride in the fact that we have an upper level, but the irony is that we've lost touch with the lower levels.
Has nature forced us to adapt, and disregard these basic functions for advanced ones?
But then why are there still people that bring themselves back down?
Nobody really knows me, mainly because I don't know me.
And I love it.
It reminds me that I'm still alive, just for the simple fact that I'm an open ended equation. We are all open ended equations. For instance, I could get up right now (3:43AM) tear off all of my clothes, and run outside naked for as long as I pleased. Who is to tell me that I can't or won't do this? Nobody. The dangers, including cold, police activity and animals may keep a (sane) person from attempting such a feat. Who won't join me?
I'm constantly screaming on the inside.
I'll play out the situation in my head, where I get up, scream and run out of the room numerous times.
Wishing that it would be that easy to erase my mind into subtle bliss. I'm constantly at war with myself, every single minute.
Second guessing, and justifying things that I've done. I'm a terrible person, whether it be in my head, or otherwise. And I'm o.k. with all of that. I realize that after so many years of criticism, the only regret I have, is not finding what it really means to be alive sooner. I'm enjoying my open ended equation, while it's still there to enjoy, so tell me.. Are you?
I don't know you, and you don't know me.
But thats the best part, of knowing you.
People take pride in knowing their friends, in being able to predict their actions, and reactions.
My pride, lies in everyone I know. I know they all have their monsters, living inside them.
Waiting, patiently. Waiting for that vulnerable point where they can unleash themselves.
It's beautiful, the human mind. It can't handle it's own consciousness, which is by far the most irony I've ever seen.
Us as a species, take pride in the fact that we have an upper level, but the irony is that we've lost touch with the lower levels.
Has nature forced us to adapt, and disregard these basic functions for advanced ones?
But then why are there still people that bring themselves back down?
Nobody really knows me, mainly because I don't know me.
And I love it.
It reminds me that I'm still alive, just for the simple fact that I'm an open ended equation. We are all open ended equations. For instance, I could get up right now (3:43AM) tear off all of my clothes, and run outside naked for as long as I pleased. Who is to tell me that I can't or won't do this? Nobody. The dangers, including cold, police activity and animals may keep a (sane) person from attempting such a feat. Who won't join me?
I'm constantly screaming on the inside.
I'll play out the situation in my head, where I get up, scream and run out of the room numerous times.
Wishing that it would be that easy to erase my mind into subtle bliss. I'm constantly at war with myself, every single minute.
Second guessing, and justifying things that I've done. I'm a terrible person, whether it be in my head, or otherwise. And I'm o.k. with all of that. I realize that after so many years of criticism, the only regret I have, is not finding what it really means to be alive sooner. I'm enjoying my open ended equation, while it's still there to enjoy, so tell me.. Are you?
I don't know you, and you don't know me.
But thats the best part, of knowing you.
I am too controlled for that... Maybe.
Ever do something that you regret?
No doubt the answer to that question is yes. Everybody has.
But, what if it was the opposite?
What if you're so calculating that you never really do something you regret?
You'd almost desire to push yourself to take that step. To examine what is holding you back.
(I took you home.. Set you on the glass.)
A thirst to be selfish and impulsive. The harbinger of your fall from perfection.
(I pulled off your wings, and I laughed.)
Like there is something there, than you are missing. Some element that you have forsaken, reluctantly.
(I look at the cross.. Than I look away.)
But at the same time, you forsake your own morals by yearning for this.. Change.
(I give you the gun... Blow me away.)
You suffer the consequences of your actions, as everyone does. Beautiful consequences, disguised as monsters.
(Now you feel, so alive.)
I'm too controlled for that.
Just too calculating.
Just too smart.
Is it really lying to yourself if you know the truth anyway?
Inside, we are all out of control.
We are all burning, in so many directions.
Look into my eyes, into the my firestorm.
But don't come too close.
Don't fuel my fire.
No doubt the answer to that question is yes. Everybody has.
But, what if it was the opposite?
What if you're so calculating that you never really do something you regret?
You'd almost desire to push yourself to take that step. To examine what is holding you back.
(I took you home.. Set you on the glass.)
A thirst to be selfish and impulsive. The harbinger of your fall from perfection.
(I pulled off your wings, and I laughed.)
Like there is something there, than you are missing. Some element that you have forsaken, reluctantly.
(I look at the cross.. Than I look away.)
But at the same time, you forsake your own morals by yearning for this.. Change.
(I give you the gun... Blow me away.)
You suffer the consequences of your actions, as everyone does. Beautiful consequences, disguised as monsters.
(Now you feel, so alive.)
I'm too controlled for that.
Just too calculating.
Just too smart.
Is it really lying to yourself if you know the truth anyway?
Inside, we are all out of control.
We are all burning, in so many directions.
Look into my eyes, into the my firestorm.
But don't come too close.
Don't fuel my fire.
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