full image - Repost: The Light Aquarium (from Reddit.com, The Light Aquarium)
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I made a new rule.They hadn't caught me yet. They never will. The blinking is a code. As long as I follow the rules, the world will protect me. It has to. That's the beauty of them. Once the code is real, you don't have to think. Just act.The new rule is this:If I am observed, and the observer apply the wrong rules, it is a signal. They must be pressed.They said my writing was plagiarism. I cannot help being perfect. The world made me like this. Perfect in every way. I am a ghost.During the day I drive my bus route as a normal man. Route 7. Past the school, the mall, the city streets, the final stretch through the residential area, then back again. The night routes are watched. I don't like being seen. Too many cameras now. The cars give way when I blink. The passengers get on and off when I blink my lights. I can see them with their devices when they've sat down. All blinking to me. Gratitude.I am not technical, but I know how to log on to Tor. On the boards, I placed a bounty. It didn't take long until I got answers.I got lots of replies. I ignored most of them. They smelt wrong. The blinked red and blue.But one reply had me in jitters. It was just right.I explained what the world orders me to do. They didn't respond to them but they did agree to my terms. The pressing especially. Frankly, the experience disgusted me. They should care about the rules. That's the only thing that matters.My sleep had become uneven again. The new rule had complicated things.Payment was more straightforward than I imagined. Just a few Monero. Half in advance.I slept more, missed routes. I ate less. I was fading. I checked the board endlessly. Outside, the blinking had become more intense. I saw red and blue lights almost everywhere I went. I walked in silence, pretending I was normal. They didn't understand.Then I got the ping. The rat was caught. The video link was waiting. Eagerly, I logged in.He was sitting there on a chair in the middle of darkened room. I don't know what I had imagined. A fat, sweaty chump, sweating and stinking. A skinny guy with bifocals. I was disappointed to see a completely nondescript man. Reasonably fit. Brown hair. Nervous hands. Just a critic with an ego that needed to be fixed.He just sat there, crying. I didn't feel sorry. Wasn't happy either. The rules demanded action. He drooled, whimpered."I followed the rules. Y--Your text... I flagged it." he said. Snot dripping from his nose.The mic was open."I follow the rules too. There's no room for false positives."I paid the rest. The pressing began. First I heard the mechanical whir, then the screams. Bones broke. The fingers cracked. Shriveled. He can't review anymore.I closed the tab. Tomorrow, I drive my route.
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