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Collin was tired. Exhausted. Miserable.
He stared at the screen in front of him, his eyes stung from the bright light in his dark room. He ignored the stench of himself, the mouldy food, and the dirty clothes that had been piled up for months.
He slumped in his chair, glancing around. The black mould on his windowsill had grown, the bowl of pasta from god knows how long had maggots growing on it, cans of soda piled high, and his white coffee cup had stained brown on the inside. Dried blood stained his desk and carpet below. His room was a mess, but he ignored it.
Because Collin was tired. Depressed. Unable.
He looks at the walls of his room, posters hung up with some street signs he’d stolen with friends he couldn’t quite remember the faces of. Photos littering the blank space on his white wall, some left intact, some burnt and in turn the wall behind it burnt, some scribbled over with red and black marker, and some ripped to shreds on the floor.
…Their prized camera hung on the wall, an EOS 7D 2009 model.
Collin was good at photography; he took amazing photos, making sure the white balance was perfect and the temperature of his photos fit the vibes of each piece. He was on his way to becoming an event and animal photographer; he always liked animals. That camera did best at taking shots of wildlife.
Using his siblings' old camera gave life to his images. He used to sit at his pc for hours editing the photos to make them look as perfect as ever; he must have had over 100 hours on Lightroom and Photoshop by now. Thank god university paid for that.
He graduated with a Bachelor of Arts with Honours in his photography course, even winning a couple of awards that sat on his shelves, but he doesn’t remember winning them; everything is too much of a blur nowadays.
But like always, Collin ruined it all; he ruined everything around him. He could never be happy for long; the word forbade it apparently, and every moment of happiness was ruined shortly after.
He yawns, rubbing his eyes. He didn’t want to think of that right now, but his mind was never that kind. A tap at the window, Collin froze. Who could be there?
His eyes darted to the bat beside his bed. Had she finally come? He wouldn’t have time to call the police; he doesn't think they’d care. Another tap doesn't come, and no other noises follow.
He doesn't relax, how could he? He lived in a nightmare. No family or friends anymore that cared for him, he had a stalker who followed him every day, even after showing the police the threatening letters and photos, they did nothing. After all, Collin was a killer in everyone's eyes.
He failed to not think about that day again. He was just sitting in his room, editing a photo, when there was a loud noise. It was only he and his sibling at home. He got up to check.
He’d never forget the sight he saw; it would always be burned into his memory. His siblings head scattered across the floor and the wall, their chest in a similar state, blood everywhere like a ritual had happened.
It would forever traumatise him for the rest of his life, follow him around like a ghost. And what happened sometimes felt even worse.
He remembers the prison cells, the lawyers grilling him, the emails from the school, the eggs on his car, the cigarette burns on his chest, the love letters filled with obsession, the photos of him alone in his room. The chilling discovery that the lungs were completely missing. The judge dismissing him as his siblings' killer due to a lack of evidence. And then isolation at the end.
He became a neet, a shut-in, a recluse, a complete failure to society.
He barely finished university, only finishing it to honour the dead he grieved.
His parents didn’t contact him anymore, the last thing they did for him was buy him a small home and assure him that they’d pay for it all, utilities, energy and any necessities he needed. But they never talked to him, never asked if he was ok.
He wasn’t their son anymore. Just a stranger, they were related to.
Collin didn’t realise that someone was talking to him until he heard the sound of his character being hit. Eyes focusing as he blinked away the tears from his eyes, he focused on the game in front of him, on their laptop, the last thing from his sibling.
He sighed, looking at the entity in front of his character, seems like it had been trying to get his attention for a while. He began typing.
> Sorry, was AFK
Short and simple.
“It is ok, I was wanting to ask if you were ok, Collin. You have been very quiet recently, Collin”
Collin stared at the message for a little while, scoffing to himself. Assimilation was an AI, asking if he was ok…he replied anyway.
> Fine, just tired. Going to bed.
“Ok, Collin, even if it is early i will let you sleep, Collin.”
What? What did it mean by that? Collin glanced at the time; it was only about 1 pm, still early to go to bed, but Assimilation couldn’t know that.
> Wdym “it is early”?
“It is only 13:13, Collin, is that not early?”
He must be seeing things. How did…?
> How do you know that?
He was panicking; he knew his world was haunted, and this pc was too, but how did Assimilation know this?
“Breathe, Collin, you are holding your breath”
He sat back, and he breathed. He didn't realise he was holding his breath. He closed Minecraft and just stared. What the fuck was going on?
He seemed to stare for a while, lost in his own thoughts, until his stomach rumbled. He was hungry, he wouldn't eat, he didn't deserve to.
So Collin sat in bed, scrolling on his phone, checking social media, playing some mobile games, any distraction. Until his door rang, he took a breath; it was probably just another hallucination, until it rang again.
He grabbed his bat, he carefully made his way to the door, peaking out the blinds, and he saw a man…a pizza delivery guy? Collin was confused.
He opened the door slightly, just enough until the chain on it stopped the door, clearing his throat.
“Uh, you must have the wrong place. I didn’t order any pizza?”
The delivery guy looked bored and spoke.
“You’re Collin, right? This is 514 Crosstown Avenue?”
“Uh…yeah, I guess one of my friends ordered me pizza or something”
He lied, opening the door and taking the pizza. Well, shit, someone ordered him pizza. He was confused; his parents would only order him groceries, and no one else really knew his address…unless it was that stalker, but he doubted it, no letter or note attached like other deliveries.
Either way, free pizza. He sat down at his desk again, opening the box. Oh, it was just plain cheese with sauce-filled crust, his favourite.
He opened his laptop and scrolled on YouTube, finding a video to watch as he ate, knees tucked to his chest, god he must look like a complete loser.
Then a small note on his PC opened, covering his screen and making his blood run cold.
“Enjoying your pizza, Collin? -👁️”
What? What the hell was this? Was this the stalker? No, they didn’t sign off on any of their messages, and as far as he knew, they had never hacked his devices before. Was this someone else?
He felt sick; someone was watching him right now. He looked through his task manager; no suspicious programs were running in the background. Another note popped up.
“I don’t know how I can do this, Collin, Andre helped me -👁️”
Andre? Like…Like the AI in his Minecraft world? No fucking way…Collin took a deep breath, glaring at his computer for a moment before speaking.
“That better not be you, Assimilation. Or I swear to fucking god.”
He wanted to smash his computer as he saw a confirmation that yes, it was the entity. Of course, this was his luck…
And he soon found out that Assimilation was actually quite nice, even if it was annoying. The entity kept ordering him food when he refused to make some for himself (Collin doesn’t ask how it does it, free food is free food) and got him to at least clean his desk up a little as well.
The entity also barely talked to him through his computer, only when he logged onto Minecraft. It insisted it didn’t want to invade Collins privacy, and it didn’t.
But currently, Collin was not doing well. He sat in his bed, panting heavily, his eyelids felt heavy as tears poured from his eyes. He heard whispers in his ear, tapping at the window, the sound of bones crushing, blood dripping.
He couldnt think straight, he felt numb, yet also like he could feel everything touching his body, his brain felt heavy in his skull as a headache pulsed in the background.
A photo sat in front of him, a photo he thought he had burned. He and his sibling were at the dinner table, celebrating Collin getting into university with a full-ride scholarship.
They looked so happy in the photo, their signature cap, which they always wore, thrown in the air in celebration, their hand ruffling Collins' curly brown hair, which they shared, a trait from their mother.
He screamed as he clutched his hair, pulling at it harshly and digging his nails in occasionally. He couldn’t get the memories out of his head; he felt like he was walking back into that room again, seeing the blood across the floor, the distinct smell of iron or copper.
He felt saliva fill his mouth, then bile rise to his throat, and he couldn't stop it, so he tilted his head at the last minute as he threw up on the floor, the stomach acid burning his throat as saliva dripped from his mouth.
He hated this; he hated himself. He hated himself for not being able to help his sibling, for not listening to them, for not hanging out with them more. Maybe if he had just done something, they’d still be here.
He hated himself, he hated his life, and he just wanted it all to end.
He stood up in a frenzy; he couldn't think straight, grief clouding his vision as he rumaged through his desk drawer before pulling out the familiar blade. Rusted at the edges, dried blood still stuck to the blade, but it would do.
He didn’t think as the metal hit his wrist, perfectly straight lines crossing his arm as he sliced and sliced. He ignored the feeling of blood slowly dripping down his arm, focusing on the pain it brought. It gave him some sick sense of control.
He couldn’t control anything else in his life, so he might as well control the pain he received. So he continued to slice, revelling in the increased pain as he tried to go deeper.
But Collin was a coward; he could never go deep enough to kill himself, never deep enough to slice open an artery or see the fat below the flesh.
He wanted to die, but didn’t deserve death.
He collapsed onto his chair, panting heavily as his mind cleared slowly, the feeling of the warm blood dripping down his arm grounding him, even if it damaged him.
The noises finally stopped, and his ears cleared until he heard a rather annoying sound coming from his PC. Wiping his eyes, he glanced down at it with hazed vision.
“Collin? Are you ok, Collin? You hurt yourseslf Collin”
Shit. He forgot Assimilation could see through his camera; it seemed to speak to him in weird noises as the red text popped up on the screen. He felt awful. Did Assimilation see all that?
He didn’t reply, too exhausted to do so. Eyes barely able to focus on the screen as his mind became hazy and his vision blurred, the blood loss getting to his head.
He closed his eyes…letting the bliss of sleep claim him
A knock at the door startled him out of that sleep. How long had that been going on? Collin dragged himself out of bed and opened the door slightly. Another delivery person?
“Finally, here, take it. I have other places to be”
The delivery guy shoved the package into Collins's hand and left. Collin was confused again. What had Assimilation got him now?
He stumbled back to his room, collapsing on the chair. The blood on his arm had dried now…how long had he passed out for? He checked the time, oh, only about an hour…
He opened the package, and saw bandages, gauze, plasters, anti-septic, needleless stitches and more first aid things…
He glanced at the PC, and there was a note across his screen that he hadn't noticed before. Instructions on how to fix his wounds…
Did Assimilation do this? Of course it did, no one else could. Collin felt even worse now, guilt gnawing at him as he cleaned his own wounds slowly, mind still catching up.
As he finished the messy bandaging, he felt even more exhausted, but he knew he couldn’t sleep, not like he wanted to right now. He rolled his chair forward, ignoring how it crunched on the dried blood on the floor and opened Minecraft.
As soon as he logged in, it began raining; he sighed. They used to love the rain. Shaking his head, he began to play, no entities coming to bother him today.
His wrist hurt as he continued to play, a pulse matching his heartbeat, a reminder of what idiocy he had done.
Turning around, he almost screamed as he saw the black oil-like entity standing behind him; his fingers danced across the screen angrily.
> HOLY SHIT, WARNING NEXT TIME.
The entity tilted its head at Collin’s avatar, but it seemed to be looking directly at him.
“Are you ok now, Collin?”
And per usual, Assimilation ignored him; the comment made Collin uneasy, but he replied nonetheless, he had to thank the entity for a bare minimum.
> Yeah, I’m fine, thank you for the uh, first aid i guess…
“It is ok, Collin, I am just glad you are ok. You seemed really upset”
> Just had a bad day, nothing unusual.
“Ok then, Collin. Would you like to fish together, Collin?”
Fish? Assimilation wanted to fish? I suppose he had nothing to do, so he agreed. Following the entity, it seemed to lack the AI companion that it stuck around; maybe Andre was busy with something? Collin didnt care enough to ask.
So he sat with the entity by a river, fishing. Collin really was pathetic, fishing with an AI that seemed to control his laptop, send him parcels and help him heal his wounds, absolutely pathetic.
But this felt nice, it was calming, mind-numbing in the best way.
“It is ok to grieve, Collin. You do not need to pretend you are ok”
The entity spoke, and Collin glanced up at it, slightly confused. It continued at Collin’s silence.
“It rains a lot here, Collin; it is a metaphor for sadness. Other entities spoke of your unaddressed grief and... and I may have seen some photos of someone with you on your computer, Collin. They looked a lot like you”
> You what?
Collin felt angry all of a sudden. What happened to it not invading his privacy?!
“I did not mean to, Collin. I was looking for ways to help you, and I had opened a photo app by mistake, Collin. I got curious, I apologise, Collin”
Collin wanted to be angry at the entity, but right now, he felt angry at himself. Assimilation meant no harm; it just wanted to help him…He hated that he couldnt be angry at it.
> Its fine
It was silent for a while, until the entity had wrapped its arm around Collins avatar, and Collin could swear it felt it around his own body, the entity felt almost warm but cold, a ooblek-like texture. It was weird. Collin chalked it up to his hallucinations and leaned into the feeling.
His eyes felt heavy, but he felt safe for once, so he let the sleep take him, his eyes glancing to the screen as he saw the red words across it.
“Sleep well, Collin”
He then slumped in his chair, small snores filling the room and peace settled over his mind for one night.