The Rights of An Indwelling Man
A short horror story
I sniffed a flower. I walked by a cactus, it was dark, I was on my way home from the bar. I’d been dancing with that cute guy who always smiled at me but freaked me out because he smiled at me. Finally danced with him.
Sentimental drivel. Didn’t I tell you to check my email?
It’s hard to ignore it.
But I was on my way home and there was this tall, hairy cactus leaning out over a picket fence. I’d say white picket fence, but it was weathered and the paint was mostly gone. A huge, frilly white flower poked out from the-
My EMAIL
-the cactus. I’d never seen anything like it and I was still a little drunk and my heart was still dancing, so I stuck my nose in the thing. Big mistake. It stunk like garlic. Got some smelly oil all over my nose. It was so gross.
Your story is pointless. My company is on the bleeding edge of record profits, however, so check my goddamn email.
I stood there for a minute, like, ‘Do I wipe this off with my jacket? Will my jacket stink then?’ And a moth landed on my nose. I guess moths can trap souls in them or something. I read that online. Souls of like, people with unresolved issues. I’m not sure what happened, but as soon as it touched the gross smelling stuff from the flower. A soul went from the moth to me.
Brilliant analysis. Truly, you have the oratory skills of an industry thought leader.
That’s how I got this asshole in my head. His name is Brian Harlan and he was gunned down outside his hotel, just a few blocks from my apartment building, five nights ago. The same night I stuck my nose in that flower. I’m not going to check his email. He was gunned down because his company exploits its workers, harms the environment, and is destroying our ability to function as intelligent, independent people. It’s some AI bullshit, making us all dumber and dependent on people like him to think for us. Some hero went and did something about it. I know what you’re thinking, murder is never the answer, but when the laws don’t protect you, violence is all you have left.
I did nothing wrong. My company sells a product that people need. Have they found my killer yet?
No, I hope they never do. Probably won’t, got networks of people all over the country now willing to hide them.
Them?
Oh did I forget to mention? You were only the first. There have been more assassinations, likely by a group. And people don’t need you. You created the demand, you told people that everything they did on their own was too hard. You convinced them that they were failing and that they needed you to help them. You lied- look, we’ve had this conversation. I’m not having it again. You’re a con-man and a psychopath, and I’m tired of having you in my head. That’s why I’m here, actually, to finish the job the assassin started.
You can’t kill me. The evidence is right here inside you. I AM MEANT TO SURVIVE. A chosen scion of the AI futurescape, I PERSIST.
