That was mentally exhausting. All while bathing and drying myself as dignifying as possible. It’s tempting to be childish and do the helicopter, but I have to keep serious considering. It does make me a bit uncomfortable that a load of guys are watching me in the bathroom. If it was just women, that would be fine. I’m going to have to get used to the fact that they can see me here. They’ve made that quite clear whenever I put the radio on in the bathroom. It was a good start, but there must be something I’ve missed. Think....
I need some food anyway. I check my cupboards. Everything could be compromised. Opening a tin of food and look inside. Looks alright, but all they’d need to do is swap the tin out. I’m not eating any of that. It’s all going in the bin. As I’m looking at the food, the radio says,
“Don’t trust anything. We’re in everything!”
‘What the fudge?’ They certainly know how to make me on edge. I can’t take chances, not over a few quid to replace food. I wash a load of clothes on the hottest and longest setting just in case there is any micro technology planted on them. That will do, for now, everything feels dirty. I feel grimey, inside and out. I need to get out of here.
I hop in the car, drive time, don’t know where to. I’ve just come up with an idea that if it works, will literally be my best idea to date. I feel like there’s stuff crawling around inside me. With what I’ve just come up with, a lot of people are going to want to stop me before the results are in.
If they kill me, the competition will be out the way and it will be a free for all. This is really risky. I need to get somewhere safe, without anyone knowing. I can’t even think where I’m planning on going because they’ll know where I’m thinking of when listening to my thoughts!
While I’m driving I get the message that my glasses are robots, they’re owned by the bad side.
‘What do you mean the bad side?’
“The ones who are trying to finish you. They’re green.”
“Yeah, they’re green!”
Whatever that means. If they want to call the bad side green, that might be easier when sending me messages. Or maybe they are literally green? Like the so-called lizard people.
Well, even that seems far-fetched to me. I mean, I can see all this technology so there’s no way I can’t believe that this is real. But seeing is believing. Are they reptilians? Do they actually exist? I’ll just leave that as a maybe. Whatever or whoever they are, if I’m being warned that something is bad, it’s not worth taking the risk. One mistake could cost my life. I’ll start testing what is bullshiz at a less critical time of my life.
I’m not going to wear my glasses in that case. I need to see though. It would make sense that they could swap them out and have the legs computerized with nanotechnology that can read or control my mind. I’ll just squint and drive. So I threw my glasses in the footwell of the car.
I still feel gross and I need some food. I don’t trust the water from my house, so I need another shower. I’ve taken a few showers in the local leisure center while the bathroom was being renovated. It’s in too close proximity. Just in case that they have thought of this, I’m going to go to the gym in town and shower. Just need to stay out of people’s way and not get attacked. Toolbag is on the passenger seat, from before, I decided to keep it there considering the circumstances.
I decide it’s safer to wear my glasses But I don’t feel comfortable in them. Well, they probably track me in my car and via satellites anyway, I’d just rather them not be on my face when they’re against me. I get to the gym, rush to the shower, and give myself a proper scrub down. I hang the glasses on a hook and accidentally knock them on the floor, where the lens falls out. This feels like a sign that they need to go. Where am I going to get new ones at such short notice? How will I know that the new ones won’t have been also doctored? I won’t, so I should probably not wear them unless I really need to. I get into my washed clothes, which I don’t feel I can trust either, but a man’s got to dress.
I need to eat! I can’t bear the thought of going back to that house. it’s not relaxing whatsoever. I need a break, somewhere away from everything while this countdown is happening. As I drive my eye keeps itching. I hear from the radio that “they’ve taken over the left one!”
‘My left eye you mean?’ I respond,
“Eye, left one” A Scottish presenter responds with. I ask a few more times to be sure, always with a confirmation right on cue. I need to take this information seriously. I could just ignore it and go about my day. This might be a test to see how gullible I am. But I’m not taking the chance. Not now. There’s a 24-hour window to be as careful as possible, I’m taking no risks. Too many people are sure to want me dead. That’s a no-brainer.
That fudging kebab or my contact lens solution or the lenses themselves could have nanorobots within. We might not be at that level of technology at today’s age. But they may have developed it but not disclosed it to the public. Furthermore, with time travel, they could have brought some developed technology back to today. They’ve got a massive upper hand, I’ve clearly got people on my side, but inevitably; they can see the advantage of turning on me and taking the royalties. They might have all agreed to screw me over, which means I’m royally fudged.
“They see everything through the left one.”
That’s ominous. Can they? As I drive, I keep my left eye closed as much as possible, glasses off. Very dangerous, agreed, but I’m doing the best to keep my location as un-disclosed as possible. No phone with me. End up somewhere quiet, leave the car and walk. Find a Hotel and check-in, with cash. Get some grub down me, hoping it’s not compromised, but I’m not going to starve myself. I keep getting messages;
“They’re all over you!”
“Get them off you!”
I go to the supermarket and get new clothes and a razor. As I’m walking around, people are talking to their family and looking at me strangely.
“they’re in them too, and that one.” The mother says to her son. Is that an actor there to help me choose the right clothes? Or have all these warnings made me paranoid and she is just chatting to her son? I don’t know. It might be a coincidence, but at the moment, all of these individual quotes in isolation could be coincidences. So I’m not going to start choosing which ones to listen to and which ones to ignore.
For fudge’s sake. I’m not getting any clothes from here, the supermarkets could be in on it, massive global organizations. I’ll buy only razors, they aren’t going to be on me for prolonged periods. Charity shop’s a good call. Not too large, any clothes there will have been used and gone through many washes. So I get some disposable clothes from a charity shop, this may need to be a regular thing for a while just until things calm down. I’ve got to get through this.
Back in the hotel room, I run a very hot shower. Maybe I can burn them off. I shave my head as that would be an ideal place for them to gather. I keep the TV on with the door open. I need to be guided through this process. As much help as possible.
“Get them all! They’re everywhere!”
“There’s quite a few clusters left. They’re moving quickly!”
“Get rid of as many as you can!”
This is stressing me right out. Well, this is a one-time-only thing, so I’m going to get rid of all the hair on my body. When I get out, someone says “You’ve missed a bit!”
“They’re all gathering there”. Shiz, my eyelashes, and eyebrows. Really? I’m going to look ridiculous. Well either that or let these mother fudgers sit there and then spread across my face and body. Not worth the risk. But I can’t be seen walking around without eyelashes. Then the risk is that I’ll be taken to a loony bin. So I’m going to keep them regardless. What would my friends think? I’ll wash them and hopefully they won’t be the reason I’m fudged. I shave off my eyebrows completely and wash my eyes as well as I can.
I look at the hair-dryer with my dressing gown on and legs open. “We can see you, we put a little camera in there too! We thought that would be a good place for some close-ups!”
“We knew you’d come to this room.”
Fudging hell. Well as I’ve gone this farce, I had to get these bugs off, I thought I’d go as far as I could, so I could sleep slightly easier knowing I’ve done everything I could. I pick up the dryer and start to burn my skin all over, just within my pain threshold. I look nuts anyway, better do a proper job of it while I’m at it. I drink loads of water to flush my body, fudging robots trying to take over. Not now, not when I’m taking over, I’m not losing this one, especially to being under cautious, lazy or complacent. Surely, if it wasn’t needed; I’d get at least one “That’s not needed,” or, “That’s enough.” But not even once. Either they’re all against me making me do this when it’s not needed, or they are all on my side trying to help me. Maybe the bad ones can only plant the bad stuff, but not send messages through the TV or the Radio? Maybe. I’m not sure.
I need to chill out. I kick back and want to just watch any shiz on the TV and try to relax. “You missed something!” is the first thing said when I stop channel flicking.
“Your bank cards!” Shiz. They might be in them, well almost certainly tracking but could be on them too. Micro-technology would love it there, and it’s pretty much the only thing that hasn’t been swapped that’s with me at the moment. Just to be on the safe side, I pour boiling water into the sink and put my cards in to simmer. After what I feel is long enough, I rinse them and scrub them. They’ve slightly deformed in shape, but surely some of them will still work. I put them loose in my pocket and bin my wallet in a double-bag along with my clothes that aren’t from the charity shop.
News is on, they keep making references to the large painting on the wall, saying that they knew I’d come to this room and there’s some powerful technology behind it. I’m tempted to have a look but it could be in the next room or somehow hidden. Any time I’ve looked to find where their devices are, I can never find them. They are too smart to have me find it. If they can look into the future, they can see where I’ll look and put it just beyond where I will look. So, there seems to be no point in bothering. I feel powerless to stop them from putting whatever they want wherever they want. I don’t want to be in this shiz, but here I am, and now look where my stupid think-talk mouth has got me!
The news then starts talking about the closure of the steelworks’ factory that I can see out the window. There are quite a lot of purgey undertones to what they are saying. They choose to show around 20 people, all very elderly workers. They are standing solemnly saying their goodbyes. Very eerie. To the unbeknownst watcher, they would just see it as a sad time to the workers there, to me; the message is clear. That they won’t just be going home, they’re done for. Fudge. I don’t like the reality of what I thought up. It’s horrible to comprehend what the reality of it will be like if it does happen.
I don’t actually want anyone dead. It’s really sad to hear. But the numbers don’t add up and anyone with enough brain cells to think into it logically has done and the vast majority has agreed, that something needs to be done about it. If you ask someone “Is mass genocide bad.” They’d probably tell you that it’s the pinnacle of what would be considered as bad. If it’s justified for the good of the world, many people would still protest that it is a terrible thing to have even thought up. Our human nature has a coding of “protect your own.” That covers the entire human race. The same instinct runs through the majority of species. If anything is opinionated against this, people generally take the humanistic view that it’s bad no matter what and should never be considered or actioned.
The people who say that are generally people who don’t have any say in global or political events. They just have an opinion, a victimized opinion that the people above don’t know what they are doing and their best interest is always on them not the people at the bottom. They can sleep well if they say that population reduction is a bad thing. If their opinion changed to agree, they’d have the responsibility of having the thought that part of them is evil, and have to live with that. Instead, even when it defies all logic, saying “Killing is always bad, no matter what,” will make them feel like they are a good person. If they believe in God, then their God will never judge them badly for that thought.
People might have the belief that there is another solution and that population is not an issue. Well, as re-assured as they may feel, it is still only speculation and theoretical. If there are people with the technology to check and it turns out bad each time, then it’s no longer theoretical, it’s fact.
I still have mixed emotions about it regardless. Nothing about it feels good, but if we’re walking into guaranteed destruction of ourselves and the world if we carry on this way and there’s no other way of sorting it out even with all options and technologies available to us. If all else fails, then if it needs to be done. Unfortunately, this is the mess we have got ourselves into. Why the fudge didn’t we see this happening before and do something about it?
Anyway, what was I doing? Oh yeah, having a deep reflection on what might be the last day on this earth. Why did I give a 24-hour timer? Can’t I speed it up? I didn’t really think about the risk of dying over the full day. Fudge that, I’m not going to sleep while the countdown is happening. I can’t protect myself while sleeping.
‘Right, we’re going to have a sneak peek on how many people are interested, and how much wealth is planned to go into this, so we get a gauge on how it’s looking. I know I said 24 hours, but I need to sleep well tonight and this will help. If it’s hardly anything, we can call it off. If it’s a lot, then people need to start spending money to protect me.’
After all, it might seem like a good idea to me, but I might have missed a fundamental flaw, it happens to the best of us.
After I ask to see a sneak-peek, there’s an uproar in noise from all directions!
“That’s loads!” I hear someone shout a few rooms down the hall. At the same time, trains honk and cars honk outside. The TV advert says, “That is way more than we expected, this is huge!” In a symphony of messages from all directions. The odds of that happening are so slim, it re-affirms the fact that I’m not completely losing my mind, even if I am sat here with not a hair on my body worrying about the painting on the wall!
I might make it through this after all. In the back of my mind, I realized that doing the sneak peek has taken the pressure off the 24-hour countdown, a reassuring amount of investors have already put money on the table, this will push the rest to not feel it’s that risky. Around 12 hours isn’t going to be enough to get the best return on this, I’ll push that forward when the time comes for latecomers and different time zone areas. I didn’t need to think-talk that one, an almost instant realization, small knowing smirk and keep my think-talking mouth shut!
I start to worry about my ring. If people come to kill me or hinder me, they’ll be after it. It’s iconic to this event, and the one thing that would be of most worth to have to commemorate the creation of the World Web. Just to strip me of everything and even rich people would appreciate it as a mascot. While I’m thinking about it, I get messages through.
“They really want that”
“They keep trying to get it”
They’re weakening the prongs!”
“Those tiny robots are hard at work!”
For fudge’s sake. I’m going to have to burn these micro-robots or whatever they are off. So I boil the kettle and pour it onto the ring in a cup. That will do, for now. Part of me wouldn’t be surprised if the rock was off the ring when I wake up or someday while walking around. It’s pretty small, and they could get it off at any time and sneak it through any gap. I’m going to have to put some tape on it to secure it, again... too much fudging risk. Either I’m completely nuts, which I’m 99.999% I’m not, or my life just looks nuts and I’m doing everything I can to make sure I’m not tripped up by being complacent. New messages come through “Well good job we went to the effort of ‘Project Tighten’ to make it as hard as possible to loosen. It was quite expensive, but glad that we did.”
“Project loosen is also commencing, but it should hold.”
By this point, the news had finished and some dross was on. Not that I was watching it much, mainly “reading” the messages in between the lines and responding with think-talking.
I have a look at what’s on and a newish Hollywood comedy film on. Well, I haven’t seen it before and it should lighten the mood.
It becomes apparent that they are also in this film as well. No expenses spared! It’s reassuring that they will pay to go into top-end films to communicate with me. If they wanted me dead, why would they bother? Why not just kidnap me, torture me and get as much information out of me and then kill me? Ironically, that’s kind of what they are doing to me in some fudged up way. Until I get out of this created reality, I am imprisoned. Violating my life and mind is a form of torture, and I know many of them are reveling in it. Some actually care and don’t like seeing me suffer, everyone has their turn to express their views to me, whether I want to hear it or not.
I then get a message that the ring I’ve got is from Mars! Are they having a laugh?! Well, it could be true. They keep saying it, it sounds unbelievable but all this is way more unbelievable than visiting our neighboring planet, and getting a small rock back isn’t that far-fetched. Well, they seem to care about it more than I’d have envisaged, especially with the two far larger things going on that I’m way more concerned about. But it doesn’t go unnoticed. Keep it close, keep it safe. If I’ve got it on me, it probably adds protection. If it was in a safe somewhere, my protection would be split and fewer people would be in my vicinity. Curtains shut, the TV goes off, try to get some shut-eye. Had no time to plan what I’m going to do with my physical self for the next few days, just stay alive and react to what I need to. I’ll know tomorrow if I made it through the night.