My cursor hovered over the link. I read those words again and contemplated the consequences for a mere 5 seconds before I smirked and then shrugged.
Simon doesn’t tell me what to do and whoever the heck is watching isn’t going to find me anyways. I wasn’t any stranger to the dark web and I was highly protected. Equipped with the Tor browser, an encrypted hard drive and a proxy that covered my tracks better than almost any other VPN, I felt like everything was sealed pretty airtight. I knew the link was probably just some silly click bait, but it worked. I was instantly intrigued.
Click
The first thing that popped up on my screen was strange to say the least. A kaleidoscope of colors danced and weaved and exploded across the screen in a medley of patterns and shapes. I was completely mesmerized. A small rivulet of blood began to seep from my nose, before my attention quickly shifted to the pool of crimson that was starting to sink into my sweatpants.
I cursed under my breath, bolting to the bathroom, and swiped as much of it as I could from my sweats. Luckily, these were old. Once the last of the blood was rinsed from my face, I settled back into my computer chair and crossed my arms. Relief settled over me when I noticed that the dizzying colors had subsided. I don’t know what the heck that was all about, but surely it was just a coincidence. The screen in front of me now was pitch black except for a white, blinking cursor. I curiously watched as words started to appear.
“SIMON SAID NOT TO CLICK THE LINK. THEY’RE WATCHING YOU NOW.”
With a roll of my eyes, I moved my fingers over to the keyboard and began to type.
“YEAH? WELL TELL SIMON HE CAN KISS MY-”
Before I could even finish typing my sentence though, I froze. My fingers crawled away from the keyboard. What the…?
“HELLO 239.2.24.166. SIMON WOULD LIKE TO PLAY A GAME. IF YOU WIN, HE WILL LET YOU GO, BUT IF YOU LOSE, THERE WILL BE… CONSEQUENCES.”
A nervous laugh bubbled up from within me as I anxiously scratched the back of my neck. How in the world were they able to pull my IP? That should have been nearly impossible… I took every precaution. My fingers inched towards the plug at the back of my computer. Whatever this was, it wasn’t funny anymore. I didn’t want to play any kind of game.
“SIMON SAYS YOU SHOULDN’T DO THAT.”
My hand hovered in mid air as I looked at the words blinking back at me. ‘Fine,’ I thought. I’ll play his stupid game.
“FINE. I’LL PLAY.”
“EXCELLENT. FOLLOW SIMON’S INSTRUCTIONS AND YOU’LL WIN. FOLLOW ANY OTHER INSTRUCTIONS BUT HIS, AND THE CONSEQUENCES WILL BE DIRE.”
He was going to have me play a stupid child’s game? What kind of idiot did he think I was? I shoved my anger aside, staring at the screen for a second before typing, “SURE.”
“SIMON SAYS… CUT OFF YOUR RIGHT PINKY FINGER.”
Startled at the command, I pushed my chair back from the computer. What the actual-
“SIMON SAYS HE WILL NOT ASK AGAIN…CUT OFF YOUR RIGHT PINKY FINGER OR SOMEONE CLOSE TO YOU WILL LOSE ONE.”
There was no way they even knew any of my family members. My parents lived in a whole other state, and even then, they lived way out in the country.
But then, I heard my phone ring.
“Mom?” I asked, my voice wavering when I heard her panicked tone.
“Levi, your father just had a terrible accident. He was cutting some wood with his skill saw and…” She paused, murmuring something about there being too much blood. “He… Somehow he sliced off his pinky finger.”
“WHAT?! Is he-”
“We’ll have to give you a call back. We just got to the emergency room.”
My fingers twitched as the phone fell from my grasp, my eyes widening as I stared back at the computer screen. Something about this was very wrong. There was no way in hell this was a coincidence…
“SIMON HAS THREE MORE ORDERS FOR YOU. FOLLOW THEM CLOSELY AND THE GAME WILL BE OVER.”
A few agonizing seconds passed before my next command came.
“SIMON SAYS… BRING YOUR WAFFLE MAKER BACK HERE, PLUG IT IN AND TURN IT ON.”
Fear coursed through me, crawling into my lungs and holding my breaths captive. What kind of twisted game was this? I’d learned my lesson though, so I scrambled to the kitchen to grab my waffle maker. If I learned one thing, it was that “Simon” was not patient and he definitely wasn’t joking around.
Sweat dripped down the side of my face as my fingers shakily plugged the waffle maker into the wall and turned it on. I knew that whatever command I was given next was going to be awful, and I was dreading the next message.
“SIMON SAYS…”
My heart thrummed in my chest wildly as I watched the typing bubbles.
…
Sharp, ragged breaths flew past my lips as I waited. The anticipation was killing me.
…
The bubbles stopped. And then the next command appeared.
“OPEN UP YOUR WAFFLE MAKER AND MAKE SURE IT IS HOT.”
I nodded, prying open the lid and cautiously waving my hand over the griddle before I typed back, “IT’S HOT.”
I waited for my last command, hoping that it wasn’t going to ask me to do what I thought it was.
“PUT YOUR HAND ON THE WAFFLE MAKER AND CLOSE THE LID.”
With a shaky hand, I hesitated before thinking about my dad. If I waited too long, maybe something would happen to my mom or my little sister. It felt like I was trapped. Either way someone was going to get hurt. It was my fault for clicking on that link though. I deserve to suffer the consequences. I couldn’t forgive myself if something happened to my mom or my little sister next.
I eased my hand onto the griddle, and a pain like I’ve never experienced exploded throughout my body… But I still had to close the lid. With all the strength that I had left, I closed the lid, my prior agony radiating into a torturous throbbing sensation, multiplying tenfold by the second. Strangled screams left my mouth before I yanked my hand free from the griddle and cradled it against my chest. Tears streamed down my cheeks, and vomit threatened to spill from my mouth the second I looked down at the tattered flesh. Some of it had blistered and melted away, oozing and bleeding and festering.
The smell of cooked meat wafted up towards my nose and sent me spiraling as I retched up everything in my stomach. More tears sprung from my eyes as agonized sobs overcame me. Every time I even glanced at my hand, the pain became so unbearable that I felt lightheaded. And the last time I looked at it, a thick, red ooze dripped from the flesh clinging to the back of my hand like a thick strawberry jam. Before I knew it, I passed out cold.
When I finally came to, I awoke in a pile of vomit. It was crusted to my shirt and some of it still clung to the sides of my mouth. I didn’t know how much time had passed, but the realization of what I’d done came toppling back into view the second I looked back down at my hand. And then it dawned on me… I’d screwed up. I’d been so wrapped up in doing the right thing, that I’d forgotten the most important part about the commands. Specifically… The last one.
Blinking up at me on my computer screen were 3 tauntingly large words, “SIMON NEVER SAID…”