text: The room was littered with knives, small ones, big ones, ones that could kill you slowly and painfully. The man sat up in his chair, rubbing his neck nervously, his dark blue eyes searching the room, not wanting to meet the eyes of the boss. The boss with his bright green eyes sitting just below his sharply curved eyebrows, and intimidating black faux hawk hair. His diamond-shaped face held a straight, defined jawline with a rounded chin littered with stubble. His smile held two sharpened canine teeth that made him look even more intimidating The boss was wearing a nice dark red tank-top with black ripped jeans. The man kept running his fingers through his hair, adjusting his light-brown quiff. He had a square face with a normal jaw line, nothing too defined, and round eyebrows sitting above his timid eyes. “So, you want to be part of the Slanted Slashers, huh? The little betta fish wanting to join the sharks” said the boss, a grin stretching across his face. “Yes, I would, um...” the man’s eyes kept drawing to the knives, how sharp they were, how they could cut him up easily, he stared at the boss once more. The boss kept the same smart grin. “Does he know, I think he knows. All these knives, this has got to be a trap.” The man started to anxiously fiddle with something in his pocket, then set it down on the table, absentmindedly. He started to hyperventilate, the full extent of what he was doing hitting him like a slap in the face. The boss cocked an eyebrow at him “You alright there betta?” “Um, yeah, I just...need a moment. Do you have a bathroom anywhere?” the boss leaned back in his chair. “ Hey Jet! Lead this guy to the wash house.” “Yes sir” came a smooth response. A man with beady brown eyes came out, a smirk fixed on his face. The man noticed his skeletal body, with a triangle face that seemed gaunt, and hair that seemed bleached so many times that it had lost its color. Jet led the man outside and directed him towards a small rickety shack with the words “Slanted Slashers” spray painted in red on the side. As the man walked up to the door he could feel rain start to patter on top of his head. The man walked inside and noticed the dark, disgusting lighting in the shack, the color pallete all browns and greys. He shut the door tightly, because the lock was not working at all. The man started taking deep breaths to get him ready for what he had to do. He tried to turn on the faucet, but all it did was give out a pathetic sputter. He decided to just take off his glasses and let the colorless blobs of the washroom wash over him like a nice, calming wave. Then, when he was nice and calm, put his glasses back on. The man examined himself in the mirror ,studying what he was wearing. He had on a roughed up T-shirt with a picture of Coolio Dogg (an adult cartoon that the man hated) saying his famous catchphrase“Yo, You Dogg ugly”. He was also wearing a pair of khakis and some bright neon Slips, a popular shoe brand that combined comfort and everyday wear. Instinctively, he reached for the badge in his pocket, just to fiddle with, when he realised it wasn’t there. He had left it on the table for anyone to see. The man quickly hurried to the ruckus room, hoping no one had seen his badge yet. He bursted in and saw the boss, badge in hand, staring right at it. “Wikins, Tom. Parkien Detective Agency, that’s the one on 50th street, right? The one across from the deli?” he opened up Tom’s badge more, revealing a hundred dollar-bill that he had been saving for emergencies. “Look at that, big spender, got a hundred smackers! Making use of that big salary huh?” the boss chuckled slowly, a chuckle cementing its way into Tom’s mind. “How could I have been so stupid” Tom thought to himself. “That’s, um, not mine?” his voice trailed off, realising how dumb he sounded, his picture was right on the badge. “Betta fish, betta fish, you have to learn to go with the flow, stop trying to go upstream the roaring river.” The boss started to walk over to walk over to Tom chuckling once more. “Good ol’ pal, are you? Just a guy being pushed around by his government, huh Tom?” the boss said his name like it was a bad taste in his mouth. The boss quickly grabbed Tom by the arm, and gripped him tightly, his muscles flexing. Tom tried to resist, but he was no match for the strength of the boss. “Tsk, Tsk, Tsk, no swimming out of the shark’s feeding grounds, little betta” Tom noticed a shark tattoo on the boss’s arm, it’s gaping mouth telling him he’s about to be devoured. The boss pulled a sharp, 4-inch blade out from behind his back. Tom resisted more, but the boss held on to him firm. “Listen to me little betta, I want you to remember my name, Shark, say it over in your head if you have to. Even if you only have a few hours left, remember it until then.” Then, Shark plunged the blade into Tom’s right upper arm, slicing through it like a fresh mango. “You’re not leaving with both of your fins, little betta, this one’s mine.” He pushed Tom to the ground, while Tom writhed in agony. Shark slowly pulled out the blade, making it as painful as possible. Then, he started hacking away at his arm, like a butcher chopping up it’s beef for sale. Tom could just smell the blood, like walking into a fresh slaughterhouse, and he could feel his arm getting looser and looser. Tom could hear Jet laughing at him, accompanied by some other, deep, rough voice. The last thing Tom remembered was the immense pain, and Shark saying “Hey Jet, Speedy, help me with this one.” Tom woke up in immense darkness. His nose was being viciously destroyed by terrible smells of decomposing garbage all around him. The stump of his arm was open, and mixing with the garbage all around him. If he did survive, that would probably get infected. His arm was still losing blood, his skin cold to the touch. If he knew anything about blood loss, he knew that was a bad sign. He tried to use his left arm to open the cover of this dumpster he was in, but he couldn’t muster the strength. He was on the brink of just giving up, when he started seeing a bright light from above, a grey-haired mustached man standing above him, almost beckoning him. “Am I in heaven?” The man’s eyes widened, and he pulled a smartphone out of his pocket. “911?” the man said, in a light southern accent. Tom noticed details he hadn’t seen before, like the man’s bright neon suit and cigar. “Yeah, I’m part of waste management here at Sacramento and I found this guy here with a missing arm, I think he’s a little loopy too.” Tom started to pass back out, the world turning black once again. Tom woke back up in a hospital room, his nose greeted with a clean, sterile smell. He looked around his room, noticed Coolio Dogg on the TV and quickly turned it to Glomper Glob, a TV show about an alien coming to Earth. He noticed his throat was parched and pressed the call nurse button. A female nurse came in with an oval face speckled with freckles and had nice warm, light brown eyes sitting below rounded eyebrows. She had flowing baby blonde hair that was decorated by a little white nurse’s cap with a red cross stitched into it. “Hello there, sir, is there anything you- oh, it’s you. You’re the guy that lost an arm.” “Yep, that’s me” it was silent for a moment, the only noise coming from the faint noise of the television. “You know you had stage three hemorrhage when we found you. You were cold to the touch, pale, heart racing, capillary refill was terrible, and your blood pressure was unnaturally low. We thought for sure that you would go into type four and-” she abruptly stopped like she wasn’t supposed to say anymore. “Sorry I’m just not supposed to say anything about it. We don’t want to scare the patients.” “I understand” “Well anyway, let’s get to the point here, is there anything you needed?” asked the nurse, a calming smile on her face. “Yes, you-I mean, some water please, and a, umm, mirror if you can.” said Tom, nervously. The nurse giggled at his remark, the laughter music to Tom’s ears. “Real smooth.” The rest of his day at the hospital was heaven for Tom, every day, he could see the nurse, and he even found they had many things in common. They both hated Coolio Dogg and loved Glomper Glob, and they both loved to sit down and read a nice book. They had both learned each others names too, her name was Jen Hawk. One day, Tom was all healed up, and he was able to finally walk and go out of the hospital. Tom didn’t want to leave without talking to Jen one last time, though, so he waited outside the nurse’s break room. A tough looking man came out first, with a short sleeved blue nurse’s uniform. Hr had on some kind of distinctive tattoo, and bumped right into Tom. “Some people need to learn some manners.” mumbled Tom. Tom waited a few more minutes and Jen came out an enthusiastic smile on her face. “Hey there Tom, up and walking I see!” “Yep, It’s great.” Tom waited a moment summoning up the courage to speak “I was, um, wondering if we could, you know, exchange numbers?” “Sure, my number (800) 367-1523.” she wrote it down on a piece of paper “By the way, real smooth” Everyday they would chat for hours, about books that they read or episodes of Glomper Glob or Coolio Dogg, or just things that they did. One day, the conversation came to an invite. “Hey Tom I just realized we never hung out outside of the hospital.” “Huh, you’re right, that’s strange.” “Well, I have my 28th birthday coming up, and...” “You’re inviting me?” “I mean nobody else ever comes, and I know you will” “Yeah, of course!” “So it’s at 5021 48th St., 78341.” “I’ll definitely be there.” When the day came, Tom was all ready for the occasion. He had put on his beige suit and wore a black tie. He had gotten a bouquet of flowers and an “I love you card” too, today he was finally going to confess. He also had a nice silly birthday gift, a Glomper Glob shirt, inside of a gift bag. When he arrived at the house he studied it. It was a nice magenta colored house with the number 5021 on a plate sitting right next to her garage. It had a few wind chimes playing faint music in the light breeze. He walked up to the door, straightened his tie, ran his fingers through his hair, and knocked. Surprisingly, the door came clean open on the first knock. Tom hadn’t noticed the broken lock on the door handle when he came in. “Hello? Jen?” he said, raising his voice. He flicked on the lights and the first thing he saw was Jen ,sitting right in the middle of the floor, right next to a brown sofa stained with fresh blood. “Oh my god” said Tom, a quiver in his voice. She laid there with a twisted look of fear on her face. Tom was devastated, the walls felt like they were closing in on him. The entire world seemed to shift in and out of focus, and he dropped to his knees. He cradled Jen’s head in his arms, checking for any vital signs. He found none. When he finally mustered the strength to get up, he noticed a note crudely written in a notebook. “Hey Tom, you should really get your phone lines secure, being a detective and all that. I just realized something too, we haven’t hung out since I cut off your arm, how weird? Sincerely, Shark. P.S. You really should keep your future pet hawks out of the feeding grounds” Tom felt anger swelling up inside of him, a level of anger he had never felt before. However, with no outlet, all he could do was suppress that anger. “Hey Tom, need a hand?” Tom sighed and put down his pencil. He looked up at his coworker, Jeff, that was just making his life that much worse. He could see his smug square shaped face, harnessing those judging dark brown eyes that seemed to laugh at him for everything he did. “That’s not even a good one, have some originality in your insults at least.” Said Tom ,in a monotone, unenthusiastic voice. “I lost a whole arm, not just a hand” “And how arm you dealing with that?” said Jeff, his eyebrows even more arched than normal. Tom just sighed and went back to work as Jeff laughed it up. Tom pulled out his phone, and started scrolling through the news, seeing if there was anything special happening. He immediately went to the tech section to see what they had, and it was all normal stuff, scientists testing out new A.I., House robots made for the elderly to clean the house and do basic functions for them, and the rising argument on how we should be treating A.I. He kept scrolling and was about to put his phone away when he saw something about a robotic arm made out of microbot specially made for working amputees. Tom read more into the article and found it was made by VizTec, a company specializes in making home electronics. In the article it had a link where you could sign up for it, so Tom took a look. You had to have an upfront payment of a thousand dollars, just to help cover the costs, and have proof you are a working amputee. Tom submitted a picture of himself, and his work file, containing all of his work information. After a few days, he got an email saying he had made it and would be transplanted the arm on January first in the Rosebud Hospital Center. When the day came, he arrived at the hospital, excited to finally be able to use his right arm. He was greeted with a man in a green uniform with the words VizTec on the front in bold white letters. “Hello sir, are you here for our amputee program” “Yes” “Please state your name and profession. “Wikins, Tom, detective.” “Thank you sir, go right on ahead, your room number is 1003, first floor.” Tom made his way to the hospital room, glancing at some of the other rooms. He could see a couple other patients getting their arms and some regular patients. He hospital smelled clean, but too clean, like walking down the detergent aisle at Walmart. Soon, he arrived at his room. A man stood there in a bright green jumpsuit, a big, fake smile on his face. He had a rectangular face, and wide brown eyes above, his eyebrows stood arched above, giving him an always surprised look. “Hello, Hello! You must be Tom. My name is Darren and I am the head supervisor at the VizTec disabled section, and I am proud to present this arm to you, specially funded by the government. My lab assistants will now transplant the arm, thank you for being apart of the testing.” Tom sat down on the hospital bed, as two people in lab coats came in with a metallic arm. They strapped him down, then gave him some anesthesia to knock him out. When Tom woke up, he had his arm firmly on, but something was wrong, he couldn’t control it. He realized he wasn’t in a hospital bed either, he was in the street, his robotic arm dragging him along. Plus he had an aching pain all over, like he had broken a few bones. “What the heck is going on” he thought. The arm stopped dragging him. “Ah, the body has its own brain” said a voice in his head. “Who are you?” he said looking around him. “01000100 01100001 01110110 01100101, that’s the closest I have to a name.” “Why can you speak in my thoughts?” “Because I’m attached to you dummy.” “What are you talking about, how could you-” A memory started playing in his mind. “Take a look at this, then you’ll see.” Tom was laying down in his hospital bed, his robotic arm installed fully. Suddenly, Darren burst into the room. “Uninstall it! It’s got government technology and it could be a real threat, it’s got a mind of its own!” Tom’s body started to lift into the air as the arm lifted him up. “Shut it down!” said Darren, screaming wildly. “We can’t it’s already been installed.” “By god, find a way!” His arm started throwing him out the window. “Stop it!” screamed Darren. Tom’s arm smacked the assistants against the wall. “You threw my back out!” yelled one. Soon, the memory led to him smashing through the window, and hitting the ground. “That explains why my bones are broken” said Tom. “Yes it does, now please silence.” “Where are we going anyway?” “The Slanted Slashers HQ, I’ve caught their trail using their online presence, looks like this “Jet” has a big presence on Zip. “What’s Zip again?” “Zip is a multimedia messaging app popular around the wor-” “Get to the point” “You send custom gifs between people.” “Thank you, finally!”It was silent for a few moments as Tom processed the information he had been given. “Wait, did you say we were going to the Slanted Slashers HQ? “Yes” “Oh no, please, no. They’ll cut off my other arm, they’ll kill somebody else that I care about.” Tom was speaking quick, but slowed as he finished his sentence. He realised there was nobody else he cared about, and there was nobody that cared about him. “Well, I guess we might as well. By the way can you stop dragging me?” “Of course.” His arm immediately stopped. “Now, let’s think of-” Tom was instantly interrupted by his arm. “No, I don’t need one.” “But a name would be great! Instead of 010010-” “Alright, you might have a point, carry on.” “How about... Derrick” “No.” “Dave?” “No way” Tom thought for a few minutes and then an idea popped into his mind. “No, that’s a terrible name” “But, it sounds-” “My name is not going to be a pun” “Yes, that’s what I’m calling you.” There was a pause as it was processing it’s answer. “Oh well, I guess. DA.I.VE” “Now, let’s head over to the Slasher HQ.” They arrived at the Slanted Slasher HQ and looked for a place to sneak in. They sized it up, looking for any weaknesses. They couldn’t really spot any, except a small hole in a chain link fence. “Alright, I think we should try and bend through this” “80% chance of success, do it.” Tom walked over to the fence, and DA.I.VE bent the metal up so he could go through. It was a tight fit, tearing a whole in the patient gown Tom was wearing, but they made it. As Tom went in, he could see a chubby man sitting in the corner, fiddling with a small blade. “Alright let’s see if we can get past this guy.” said Tom. Tom started to sneak up to him, but he was very nervous. Tom started to breath heavily, so DA.I.VE put his hand over Tom’s mouth. As Tom started going past the chubby man, DA.I.VE’s arm snatched out and caught the man in the neck. “Oh my god” yelled Tom in surprise as DA.I.VE strangled the man. The man started taking the knife he had been playing with and trying to stab DA.I.VE with it, but to no avail. Tom started to screech at DA.I.VE. “Stop, don’t kill him, we don’t kill people!” DA.I.VE didn’t stop. Tom could see the man gasping for air, his face turning red, then quickly, purple. Soon the man had fallen limp as Tom kept screeching. “Be quiet, your shouting has made them hear us, they will be out hear in a matter of minutes.” “You-You killed that man.” “No, not yet at least, he’s just unconscious. But don’t worry he’ll die of asphyxiation soon.” DA.I.VE started grabbing the clothes of the man, and putting it on Tom, he tried to struggle, but was no match for DA.I.VE and his ownwant to get out of those wretched clothes. He was now wearing an XL brown trenchcoat that flowed in the wind. It was just a little bit too big for Tom, and he felt like if he jumped up and down, it would fall right off. Tom immediately struck up his argument once more. “That was a human man, a man that could’ve been rehabilitated.” “They don’t deserve it, if they don’t want punishment, then don’t commit the crime.” “But that doesn’t give you the right to decide whether he lives or-” Suddenly they heard someone clearing their throat. “I see you’ve met Speedy” said Shark, his sharp canine teeth showing. He didn’t seem to care that one of his prime henchman had just been killed by Tom. “Well it seems you’ve got a little tech, hmm? Putting that expensive salary to use? Getting rid of my hard work? I worked hard to get that arm off and you just replace it. You really deserve to die.” “What?’ said Tom, as he could feel a cold knife against his throat. This would be a perfect moment to monologue my evil plans.” Shark said in a sarcastic tone. “Kill him.” Tom felt the cold iron slide against his throat. Immediately everything went black for Tom. Then, he woke up, The End. “That’s a bad way to end the book.” “I know, I’ve read a few. Wait, how did we both know, and what’s ‘the book?” “Imbecile, he means the book we’re in. Or maybe it’s more of a short story, I mean it is like 7 pages.” Tom was shocked “What do you mean we’re all in a book.” “Your existence is a collection of words that paints an image in the reader's imagination.” There was a silence for a moment as Tom contemplated this. “That means we have no control on what we do, so the writer is writing this conversation.” said Tom, finally understand that I have all the power. “Maybe not all the power, we can still do some things.” Really, you’re just going to use the word “Things”? Stupid, I should have wrote you to be smart. “That is very offensive, I am” Tom paused for a moment, because he can’t think of the word, because I won’t let him. “That’s just mean” Alright enough, or we won’t be able to have a satisfying conclusion. “Fine fine, we’ll advance the plot.” Just as I wrote you too. “So, in order to advance the plot we need to get out of...Where are we?” said stupid Tom. “We’re in Writer’s Block, the author can’t think of an ending for his novel.” “Why is it just nothingness. “You have to describe it, like imagine something. The more detailed the thought, the more detailed the image.” Tom imagined a few things. A beautiful grass field, complete with flowers and ladybugs. He also imagined a huge ocean, spanning as far as he could see, a sparkling blue color. Finally he imagined Jen, using all of his memories. Woah, that’s a little too much, I’m sorry, you can’t imagine that. “Why not, I love her.” She’s dead, I can’t bring her back, not in this story at least. “But-” No, Stop or else. I’m warning you! “You are a terrible writer that can’t finish his book.” Yelled Rom, unjustly. Fine, spend two years here, see how you like being here. “Wait, no, I’m separate from him, please.” Said DA.I.VE pathetically begging. Sorry you’re still part of him. As two years ticked by, Tom developed a close friendship with DA.I.VE. They head fiery debates about the judicial system, whether there is a god, and whether blueberries are the superior fruit. They also had many moments where Tom had finally resolved some of his problems, and taught DA.I.VE more emotion. Hello Tom. Tom jumped in fear, of course, the scaredy cat. “Don’t scare me like that. Wait, is our time up? We’ve really spent two years here?” Yes, you have. It was silent for what felt like hours, then Tom broke it. “Give us a resolution, and we’ll make a deal.” It must be a sad ending, sorry the villain wins. “No, I’ll do anything, please, give us an ending where the reader decides.” This is a short story, It can’t be open ended. More silence, as Tom thought of an idea. “I’ll die” he said.“No, me” said DA.I.VE. “I’m sort of, excited to die, I want to know what it feels like. I’m glad I got to taste living though, thanks to you, but this story needs to end, and this is the best way. “No, but-” “I can’t live without a host anyway.” Then it’s settled? “Yes, It’s settled.” Good, that’ll be a great ending to my story. “What?’ said Tom, as he could feel a cold knife against his throat. This would be a perfect moment to monologue my evil plans.” Shark said in a sarcastic tone. “Kill him.” The knife just disappeared in the holder’s hands, this is his shot. “I don’t know how you did it, but you impress me betta, that one was...real smooth.” Tom glared at Shark. DA.I.VE started to speak with as much compassion as his programming would let him. “I want to go now, I had a good time with you, you taught me much, Tom. You taught me how to be human. I thank you for this, and I can’t think of any better way.” said DA.I.VE “Goodbye old friend” “Grab onto Shark” said DA.I.VE, happy to give his life for a worthy cause. As Tom grabbed onto Shark, the microbots on his arm shifted over to Shark and started devouring him, as soon as they were done though, they disintegrated into the wind. DA.I.VE started to speak one last time, a message to Tom. “It feels so strange, empty, but complete at the same time. I’ve turned on my emotions for the first time, and I’m feeling a little afraid to die. Please, re-re-remember me, T-T-Tom. P-Promise that-that-that-that-that-re-re-re-re-that-re-that-system erroo-.” There was nothing left of DA.I.VE, all Tom could see was the husk of his arm. “No more of your fancy toys, just one on one.” said Shark, eyes gleaming. His arm was devoured by the microbots, still dripping with blood. He motioned towards both of their arms, or rather their absence of them. It didn’t bother him in the slightest. As they circled each other, Shark leaped out with his knife and stabbed Tom in the shoulder. “Well here we are! The betta and the Shark. Doesn't look like much of a conflict.” Tom started to tear up, he didn’t want to, but he knew that he would never be able to kill Shark himself. Tom collapsed onto the ground, breaking into a full crying fit. He pictured Jen in his mind, and the fear upon her face when she died. He could hear DA.I.VE's voice in his ear, how he died for almost nothing. His sadness started to convert into pure hatred. Tom could feel the anger swell up in him, every angry moment he had just pent up swirling around his mind, blocking out every rational thought. Shark walked over to Tom, sniffling on the ground. “Oh come on, I wanted a challenge! Oh well.” Shark stabbed Tom in the chest and Tom immediately jumped at Shark, grabbing his throat and punching him over and over. Tom eventually slowed down for a few moments, catching his breath. Shark had multiple cuts and scrapes on his face, blood was covering up most of it, blotting out intricate details, but he was still smiling. “There we go, got some fight in you.” said Shark, a wide smile on his face. “Where is the knife? The one you used on her?” Shark pulled something out of his pocket and gave it to Tom. “Go ahead, do it!” Tom was reluctant, staring at the knife in his hand. “Do it already!” shouted Shark, hoarsely. Tom started to back up, his senses regaining even more. “Wow, real smooth, Tom!” said Shark. “What did you say?” said Tom, stepping towards Shark again. “I said, Rea-” Shark got into a coughing fit, he had choked on the blood in his throat. “Real...Smooth.” said Shark, giving an empty chuckle, soon bursting into a full laughing fit. Tom ran up to Shark, anger blocking out everything human about him, and just plunged the knife into Shark's body, stabbing him multiple times in the lungs, and twice in the liver. “Be afraid! Give me fear! Be afraid like she was! Do it, now” Tom shouted, breathing heavily. Shark just spit blood into Tom’s face. Tom went into blind rage, just stabbing Shark over and over while screaming “Give me fear! Be afraid!” Shark just kept up with the smile until there was no smile left, until there was no man left, just an intense collage of the color red. Shark was long gone, but Tom didn’t care, he just kept stabbing what was left until he had gotten out all his anger. Tom just laid on the ground, heaving for fifteen minutes. When his senses fully regained, and he realized what he did, and dropped the knife. Tom, a man who was too timid to shoot a rabbit, too squeamish to dissect a frog, just killed a man. Tom started to scream, tears pouring down his face. He rolled around on the ground, a mix of so many emotions that Tom couldn’t understand anything anymore. He sat there for what felt like hours before finally calming down and rolling up to his feet. In the corner of his eye, he saw a pile of black ash sitting on the ground next to him. Tom scooped up DA.I.VE’s ashes and buried them under a shallow pot-hole in the road. Tom stared at the knife that he had dropped, then looked up at the sky. “You’re not getting me today, not today.” Tom took a lighter form the table and put it in his pocket. He gathered up as much wood as he could inside the rec room. Then, he gathered a few leaves from a nearby tree. He grabbed the lighter ,flicked it open, then threw it into the little fire starter he had built. He walked out of the building and looked up at it, the flames had started to spread across the building. The flames flickered in Tom’s eyes, filling him with a sense of relief. “Good riddance” he said, a smirk on his face. Suddenly, he got a call on his phone. It was from the police chief, he answered. “Tom, thank goodness, we need you, please!” “Sorry, I’m not a detective anymore.” Listen to me, Tom. We’ve got a call” “I’m not taking any calls” “Listen Tom, this one is different. This company, VizTec, they just reconstructed a dead person with A.I. technology, and...” the police chief’s voice trailed off “And what?” “And it’s calling for you, for some reason. They said, it must reach you.” “What was the person’s name?” “Jennifer Hawk.