I felt like doing something new, so here's an audiofocus one-shot piece. Download and unzip the folder with the audio tracks, and when instructed to below play the relevant track set on infinite repeat. I recommend wearing headphones as these tracks are binaural. I've also covered each part in spoiler tags so you don't get a glimpse of anything too early...
Highlight for download link: [spoiler]
http://www.sendspace.com/file/466a7k[/spoiler]
It's a short piece, but I think it worked out well. Please post comments and feedback below as you like!
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Play Track 1 now and open the first section.
[spoiler]You've been contacted by a friend, who's usually confident and a bit of a jackass, but now he's a nervous wreck. Even his Matrix avatar was hurriedly looking from side to side as he explained his situation - he's being followed by a dead girl. Not a spirit, but a Matrix entity that looks like the walking corpse of a little girl. She shows up in a node and it's like all traffic dies, the data packets go still, and in an instant the entire node feels stagnant and diseased. He can shake her off, but she keeps reappearing no matter where he is online - private node, mail server, even in a shopping center once. Her appearances are getting more and more frequent and she's getting harder to evade, to the point that he's had to start jacking out the second she appears - and it's at that exact point that his avatar vanishes. His commlink doesn't respond to direct messages and his home line is disconnected. Even though his ghost story sounds a bit fantastic, you decide it's worth heading to his place and checking up on him.
His front door is locked, but you know he keeps the spare key in the light shade over the front door. You let yourself in and look around, but find nothing. The place is clean and smells of stale, old air - you guess he'd been avoiding coming home. You shrug and look over the place a bit more thoroughly for any sign of a recent visitor - cigarette butts, fresh trash, anything; but you find nothing at all. It looks as if your friend hasn't been home for a while.
Just as you're about to leave, your commlink picks up a signal. It's faint, but it's your friend's commlink, and it's in Public mode. Despite yourself you breathe out deeply in relief and send him a message.
You idiot, don't scare me like that.The message bounces back instantly. Route to host unresolvable.
You frown and flip into AR and attempt to open a comm channel, with no success. A small error box advises that your friend has switched his commlink to VR-only. You sigh and marvel at his paranoia before sitting down in his crappy faux-leather couch and dropping into VR yourself. As you take a moment to look around the digital representation of your PAN, you make a mental note to make him buy you a round or two for acting so weird, before connecting to his commlink directly.[/spoiler]
Time to switch to Track 2 and open the next section.
[spoiler]You appear in a dark room. You know from memory that this is the Redcap Nix OS, and so the node is designed to look like a comfortable lounge room filled with bookshelves and furniture; but the room is totally dark. You adjust your own gamma filter until you can see reasonably well, and a faint chill races down your arms. The books that represent the OS have been ripped out of their shelves and ripped apart and dumped on the floor in a pile. The sofa has gigantic slashes gouged into it, completely ruining the meticulously-sculpted browsing program. The walls are scratched and stained, and the floor itself is dusty. Either someone has too much time with their Edit program and is staging an elaborate prank, or - and your gut agrees with you - there is something really, really wrong here.
As you look around you begin to notice the error codes appearing from the damage; code and numbers leaking from the surroundings like a wound. You examine the error messages collecting around the ruined bookshelf and note that all antivirus and IC programs have been totally destroyed, as well as the web protocols. The commlink has been so damaged it's unable to connect to the Matrix; only by direct connections from remote hosts with the appropriate permissions. You swallow the lump in your throat as you try not to think about how that list, as far as you're aware, only includes you.
You continue searching the node for clues and find your answer. You find your friend's avatar in the next room, lying on the floor in the default "sleeping" position. You had thought his story was far-fetched, but after seeing this place yourself you're under no illusions as to what to expect as your Analyze program springs to life and begins scanning the avatar, as you lean forward and watch as a beam of light scans up and down and information appears floating in the air on your right.
Avatar integrity sixty-three point seven percent. Connection to host severed. Last update: biometric status. Host lifesigns at 0. Host lifesigns at 0. Host lifesigns at 0.You step back and straighten up as the last sentence blinks on and off in deep, angry red. Gloom washes over you as you look down at the Matrix equivalent of a corpse and you wish you could have done something to intervene in whatever the hell happened here. As you're standing there in silent contemplation, you're surprised when a cheerful ding that comes from all directions at once announces that you've received a message. Warily, you load a program and watch as your Three Musketeers' Suite activates and three grim-faced armored men materialize around you. You order Aramis and Porthos to stand guard at the door, and command Athos to begin a scan and trace of the message as you open it. You can tell nearly immediately that it's from your friend, cleverly set to send via FTP during direct connection; but the message it contains does nothing to assuage your mounting dread.
/--------------------------------\
|
get out of here drekhead |
| it was you she was after |
\--------------------------------/[/spoiler]
And now for Track 3, you know the drill.
[spoiler]You slam the message close button, your alarm rising when you realize that the air has become still and cold - the active processes of your friend's commlink have all been stopped, inexplicably leaving only the digital representation of the OS running. You send the command to your own commlink to disconnect, but only receive an error message in return -
Connection is active and cannot be terminated. Your connection is being jammed open, and you cannot disconnect from the node. Your avatar grits his teeth in anticipation of the inevitable dumpshock as you send a direct command to your commlink to cut all signals; but nothing happens. You are unable to leave until whatever is jamming your connection has been dealt with.
As this thought sinks in, Aramis, Athos and Porthos draw their swords and charge down the hallway. You wait for a second, listening for the sounds of crashing metal but hear nothing. You quickly load your Spike program and slowly, cautiously make your way back into the main room. Athos and Porthos are nowhere to be seen. There is a sound from behind you, and you instinctively throw yourself forward away from it; but not before something sharp lightly cuts across your avatar's back and damages its integrity. Instantly your gamma filter goes haywire and bottoms out, plunging you back into darkness. It spikes upwards sporadically, giving you a split-second of illumination as if from a lightning strike before it fades back into black. Although unpredictable, the light it gives is enough for you to see the small figure of a little girl as she stands in the doorway, facing you. Her skin is as grey and lifeless as slate, and her dress is torn and stained almost black with blood. Somewhere in the back of your mind you can't help but wonder who the hell would have spent so much time digi-sculpting such an awful thing, as the little girl brushes dry, dead bangs out of her eyes and looks directly into yours. Terror grips your stomach and twists it into a sharp, painful knot as the corners of her mouth stretch into a horrifying parody of a smile and a faint blue flicker appears at her fingertips. The flicker quickly spreads like fire until she is standing in the heart of an neon blue sphere of malicious light. She reaches behind her back and pulls out a pair of wicked-looking scissors, chipped and scratched with age and use and covered in rust as she takes a step towards you.
And another.
And another.
The wall swiftly comes up behind you as you back into it, unable to tear yourself away from her gaze. All you can do is stare at her grey, dead face as she advances on you, scissors raised as the unearthly electric glow races and wavers around her. Her sickening grin seems to widen as she steps forward.
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Connection to host severed. Last update: biometric status. Host lifesigns at 0. Host lifesigns at 0. Host lifesigns at 0. Host lifesigns at 0. Host lifesigns at 0. Host lifesigns at 0. Host lifesigns at 0.[/spoiler]
