Tim Markey's Epitaph to Orpheus


Ghost of the Wired

(illus. by Taz Jurz)

I sit here looking down at my dead hands, that have elongated and torn to become long, ichor-stained claws, forged by my hated and self-malice. I can feel the darkness gaining ground inside me, now. I guess it was always there, but now it has more of a voice.

I don't know what really made me do it. Was it the years of ridicule in life? Was it how they captured me, stuck me in a death tube, and made me deal with the dead? It could have been that I could hear the darkness in my head...

Maybe I would feel better off I couldn't still remember how my body felt, before all the hatred, and before Orpheus.

I still remember the warmth and the colors of life, not this cold, gray world I live in now. Truly the only times I feel truly happy now is sitting in front of my laptop. The world didn't matter when I was sitting there, all of it went away. The specters, my "teammates," the darkness growing in my soul, and the knowledge that I'm dead... It all went away.

I remember how they got me too.

I was looking for something new on the net, and I found it all right. Yeah I heard rumors like other people had, but I didn't believe it. So like a good little hacker I "checked their sources" - in other words, I hacked into their server and took all the data I could get my bony little fingers on.

That was the worst mistake I have made in my entire life. Within the hour my room was spinning, and when I say that I mean everything in the room was levitating and being thrown around like a hateful child throwing its toys about.

I stood up and began to try to flee outside, then it all stopped, and three men appeared in my room. They had nice suits - each with a beeper attached to their belt - and they had these half laughing looks of gratification on their faces.

Then one said to me "You can either can come with us, or we can let them have their way with you." "We know about your past, and you messed with the wrong people," the other said.

So I reluctantly accepted their offer ,and left my apartment for the very last time.

As I think back I should have ran - then at least I would be still alive, and I wouldn't have to deal with all this crap. But now I'm sitting here, in a pool of the ichor that I have spilled...

I'm on the other side of Hell, with my hatred and darkness gaining control. I can hear them cackling in my head, while they circle me like vultures ready to peck me of what's left of my sanity.

Thus I know that this is my end. And if you find this file, I have failed... and you are royally boned.