I.D.

Escape

"You remember to turn on your phone when I give you the sign,"

"What's the sign again?"

"I'm going to look at you and blink twice."

"Alright, we just take a right at this alley and... This is the right address I think," She whispered. Funny how much I depended on GPS for getting me places, I could never manage as Sam had without it. We tip-toed over imaginary trip lasers, avoiding trouncing in spuriously and alerting some suspected guard nestled deep within.

An exit sign lit up the door, the truth was there was no escape from this nexus of surveillance. Amazed by the maze of it all, tightly woven corridors lay waste to a labyrinth of (presumably)storage devices as tall as the ceiling, (with a collection like this the NSA would be envious).

The sheer desolate nature of the compound almost resembled "The backrooms," of internet lore. A white pristine hallway, with shiny, freshly polished tiles, with white concrete that resembled the outside walls. This holy hall, my new holy hell. A flurry of sounds escaped, birds chirping, waterfalls cascading endlessly, as I walked closer the sounds changed, white noise altered into an incessant piano plucking the same note, a never-ending journey towards the brink of insanity. Was the onset of my illness? Was I simply hallucinating? This must be what Winston was thinking at ending of 1984.

On the other end was a door. A door to my salvation, a door to another universe, Or... the door to my destruction, a portal to hell.

"Nothing has to mean anything I said aloud." as I mustered the confidence to turn the knob.

Standing there in the darkness, a lone light, the fixture of the room, sparked continuously as it hung over a solitary desk. It dangled freely revealing aspects of the room, it being the flickering light. There were photos of me littered on all four walls of the room, there were connecting lines and Post It notes correlating to the images: akin to an FBI investigation drawing board. Some images were CCTV, and some were taken personally. This was the working of someone obsessed.

The spotlight of the bulb illuminated the desk, A ledger containing names, assumedly of high-ranking officials and other high-profile people fell to the ground.

Another light emitted, further in the recesses of the room, revealing a chair. "Yes, it's true I'm one of the one's behind all of this..."a coarse voice called out from the darkness.

The chair was spun around, a translucent figure illuminated the darkness. His face crept towards the sole light in the room. It was Zane!!! his cheeks were sunken in, and his skin was pale like previously mentioned. The deep bags beneath the eyes, the ghastly apparition was not human.

The shadowy silhouette held a host of screens behind him. Patiently the silhouette crept, stalkishly, "I knew that you'd be here sooner or later. I've been observing you for quite some time now." he said enthusiastically. Zane's face evoked a foreign emotion within me, a burning blaze that would incinerate, obliterate anything, any person could get it. The last time we had spoken I was wary of being monitored, the thought carried over to this conversation... Whether they were observing the entire time or not, it made no difference I would say what I wanted to, what I felt I had to say.

"Well, well, well..." Zane began with an air of authority. " I can't Isay I wasn't expecting you, I practically handed you the key when we assigned Alia for the task of monitoring. She's a junkie and so are you, you both should have died that night, it would have been so poetic." Turning to Sam, "...and don't think I've forgotten about you beautiful; those nudes will be leaked shortly."

"I guess you just couldn't hack it." I attested. Even Zane chuckled, "you fool that was a test. I'm smarter than you inquire, I knew you would survive."

I held up my phone, "You're controlling me!"

He completely ignored me as he took his time to talk down on me, "Thanks for giving the process an acronym, I think it fits perfectly." he said manically "L.O.V.E... in our attempts to mold the human mind you were the guinea pig."

"You mean control," I chimed in.

"Once we sell the algorithm it will be replicate on a mass scale. That means the entire world, first starting with small countries then finally reaching full-scale in the United States,"

"You're purposely driving people to kill themselves," I protested.

"This is bigger than you. Not all will see the things as you. Some people will be specifically targeted, but the majority, targeted to buy things and follow certain ideas." They were advocating a sort of mass hypnosis propelled by social media.

"You're pathetic. You're not going to get away with this."

"There are no laws against what we do, how could you ever prove it anyway? We have been flawless in our execution. You're one saving grace, that bitch Angel deserted you."

She hadn't deserted me, she provided me the necessary tools to combat the hackers.

"If...I mean when you get locked up, I'll make sure the law changes."

"Woah, locked up that's a new one. Please don't do that..." he said sarcastically wriggling finger magically, "look at all we have achieved... all that's left to strive for."

One question still lingered, "Why?"

"You made that fateful decision when you clicked on that link we planted about Schizophrenia. You see the theory behind it was that we had a plausible way to deny any claim of hacking given your mental illness. "Don't you understand? We are the government. We are the Ghosts in training." His air of authority was that of a professor lecturing a student.