trashing the matrix

Hired by a dead friend to investigate his former employer. Very tricky security door. Wall of a strange, kinetic energy absorbing material. Banks & banks of delicate looking machinery, like a server farm, each with digital displays. Encounter employee, try to grill him, but very reticent. I notice that whenever anyone speaks or gestures dramatically the numbers on the nearby machines flicker and change. I am immediately struck with profound existential dread. I leave the building calmly and sit at a picnic table near where my partner sits in the car. He is very agitated, but I am unresponsive. The employee and a security guard come out hot on my heels and the guard shoots my partner without preamble. I don’t even flinch. Employee explains that he can’t let me leave. I say I couldn’t possibly care what happens now, it’s all deterministic, and turn away from them. The shot passes through my neck. I reach up to touch the exit wound, then collapse to the ground. They get in my car and drive off, presumably to dispose of it. I realize I don’t appear to be quite dead, so I get up and go back inside- they have left the door unlocked in their haste. I start opening the server cabinets, yanking them out and flinging them across the room. Alarms start to go off, red lights flash. And then things start to appear. I pause, dumbfounded, as impossible creatures of every description begin pouring out of doors and hallways, as if I have hit the master switch that unlocks all the cages at a cosmic zoo.

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~ by oberonthefool on December 5, 2011.

One Response to “trashing the matrix”

  1. You are only mostly dead. The creatures, though, they are ALIVE. Fear them.

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