BSOD

Inside, the smell was even stronger. The hallways were tight, and the floor wasn’t exactly clean. Cables, thin and thick, lined the walls all over. Some trailed through puddles, which only made me picture myself frying into a skeleton like in an old cartoon. Concrete kept chipping off the ceiling in small showers. Some hallways had lower ceilings, making us duck under the lamps. Every surface looked like it had been falling apart for a few years, and Punch was walking so fast that I’d nearly lost him a few times.

After three minutes of navigating the maze, Punch stopped at a metal door. I could faintly hear voices coming through it. A blue light leaked through the gaps. He knocked on it three times.

A tall, surprisingly refined-looking guy maybe in his forties opened the door, his arms crossed in an old black sweater. Clean-shaven, thin-rimmed glasses, hair combed back and still healthy. He looked like he’d have fit right into a proper corporation with a minor style change. He didn’t say a word, just nodding his head towards the room. I followed, nodding subtly. The lock clicked loudly behind us when we entered. I could feel the bad vibes already.

This room, thankfully, didn’t smell of mold, instead smelling of burnt electronics and junk food. It had some cabinets, a fridge, a couch, and a desk next to it. All the light and color was coming from a display on the wall, probably not in use, because all it displayed was a blue error screen with scrambled code scrolling across it, the type older computers made when they crashed. I couldn’t tell if it was just there for the aesthetic or not, but it looked cool. The blue across the entire room made it feel a little more homely.

The desk was littered with disassembled wrist tags and phones next to chip bags. A white-haired girl in a hoodie and glittery makeup sat behind it, playing something with a controller, sipping from a juicebox. She waved to me like we were classmates or something, but I couldn’t wave back, just nodding awkwardly.

The man crossed his arms again, nodding at Punch.
“Said you have it.”

I felt my breaths getting stuck on the way in, so I balled my fists up over and over to calm myself down, but I couldn’t control my legs from trembling.

Punch took the black box out of his pocket. “All its glory. I’d like my euros now, pretty please.”

“Need to check if it works first.” The man took the box before turning to me. “You look pale. Sit down before you fall over. I'll get your pay after you rest for a bit. Grab something from the fridge if you want.” He checked his watch, going toward the back with Punch.

I nodded and sat down onto the old couch, still clenching my fists. It hadn’t been cleaned or vacuumed in a while. There were crumbs all over and dust flew up when I sat down.

The man tossed the box over to the girl. “And here’s the work you asked for.”

“Well thanks, Mister Frame!” She set her controller aside, taking the lid off like she was opening a present. She lifted a thin, glossy phone out of the box, quickly prying the backplate off the device like she’d done this plenty of times before. She desoldered a chip from the inside, breaking it in half before hooking the phone up to her laptop.

“Pretty, huh? Fun little things.” She smiled, noticing me staring.

“O-oh… You’ve seen it before?” I was puzzled.

She nodded with a giggle. “We have like twenty of these stacked in the back. Need a good amount to build a crack library for release day.”

I saw all of it again. Her face, twisted in fear. Blood matting hair, the red flash of a wrist tag. All for something they had twenty of.

“So… all those people… I mean, do you always…?

“Steal? Not always. We get some from annoyed interns.” She glanced at me and grinned, like I was her younger brother or something. “What, freaking out already?”

“N-no, just… curious.” I forced a laugh, my arms wrapped around my stomach as I rocked back and forth.

She looked up, giving me one of her unopened multifruit juiceboxes with a smile. “Hey, have some sugar. You’re looking all anemic. Was Punch that difficult to be around?” She laughed, clearly trying to lighten the situation.

I took it, feeling like I didn’t deserve it, or anything sweet, for that matter. But I drank it all in one go, hating how good it felt and the fact sugar was the only thing keeping me from breaking down.

I turned away from the couch. Punch was smoking again, and Frame looked like a pissed-off dad lecturing him for it. He turned to me, his heavy steps thudding closer like he meant to hit me. I retreated into the couch as his shadow loomed overhead.

“The job.” His voice was flat. “It was clean. Right?”

I didn’t know what he wanted to hear. “Clean,” to me, just meant we hadn’t been caught. Punch stood behind him, watching me as he dragged a finger across his throat. I swallowed, stuttering.

“Y-yeah. Clean.”

Hash sighed from the desk, her finger still rattling over the keys. Her tone shifted.
“I glanced at the emergency logs, and…” She took a breath.
“The name Sara M. ring a bell? Device tester at MagiTech. Female, twenty-four.”
I felt the nausea coming back in full as Hash leaned closer to the monitor.

“Admitted to Sunrise Hospital with cranial trauma. Location: MagiTech HQ. Timestamp: twenty-one seventeen.”

All the air left my chest as my trembling became unbearable. Relief hit me, because she was alive. But regret followed right after. She’d be home, safe and with her cat, if not for what I had done.

“So what. Probably fell or something. We were out by then.” Punch retorted. I couldn’t tell if he was standing up for me or just trying to save his own hide. I guess I should've been smart enough to not expect humanity from him, but I was trying to be optimistic.

Frame’s face hardened as he stomped up towards him and yanked him by the collar. “This has you written all over it. I thought I’d told you enough times. We. Don’t. Hurt. Civilians. We especially don't crack their skulls.” He adjusted his glasses, his voice dropping lower and quieter. “You know how hard it is for me to explain you to people I shouldn’t be meeting in the first place? You’re costing me my reputation and money, and I can’t keep paying you when you keep doing me wrong.”

Punch raised his hands, feigning innocence as he smirked. “I didn’t do it this time, for real.” He looked over to me, grinning. “Kid did it. Swung the pipe like crazy.” Of course. His grin said he’d been waiting for this, like he’d only advertised this job to me so someone else could take the fall for his dirty work.

My jaw dropped as Frame's eyes passed right through me. I stood up, defending myself. “I-I didn’t want to do it! I told him we shouldn’t have! She… she didn’t deserve it!” My tongue could barely roll the words out, getting caught on every other one. “He said he’d hit me if I didn’t!” I felt like I was back at kindergarten, trying to excuse myself from being put in the corner.

Frame looked between us. I wasn’t sure if he believed me or not, but his jaw set.

Punch barked back, trying to pry the man’s hand off his collar. “Look, just pay me, man. What, you gonna listen to the brat instead of—”

An ugly crack silenced him as Frame’s fist flew into his nose, cartilage crunching with it. I cringed as Punch crashed back into the corner, clutching his nose as blood streamed between his fingers, looking almost purple in the blue light.

Frame looked down at him. “I hope this teaches you a lesson. Don’t make me do this again.” He turned away, but—

Hash shouted. “Gun!”

The room exploded into gunfire. Each flash left blotches in my eyes and every shot made the entire room rattle and my ears ring. I pressed my hands over them, feeling small and powerless. I still couldn’t look away. I still heard them. It sounded just like the pipe hitting Sara’s head. The worst part was that I felt like I deserved this.

Punch was firing wild, screaming through his bleeding nose. The muzzle flashes kept strobing against the blue display. Dust rained down, concrete flaking from the ceiling. Frame was ducked behind a cabinet, snapping the odd blind shot out at Punch. I couldn’t believe it. That’s how quickly things escalated? Talking one second, killing each other the next?

I wanted to hug my legs and cry, but I was frozen in fear. I couldn’t move, or breathe.

Hash dove over her desk, the laptop, snacks and parts scattering onto the floor. She shoved herself between me and the gunfire, pushing me into the couch like she was protecting a kid from fireworks. The room felt like a sick, disturbing version of New Years’: colorful flashes, loud popping sounds, and the air reeking of gunpowder.

“It’s going to be okay.” She hugged me like Mom would, her voice sweet and trembling. “It’s going to—”

Her last word cut off into a yelp. She collapsed forward into me. I felt something warm spill across my hoodie, soaking through at my chest and stinking of copper. I felt around and my hand came back wet, looking as purple as Punch’s hands did after he got punched. It smelled like coins and batteries. The exact same smell. Definitely blood. Glitter ran down her cheeks, the makeup streaking away from her watered eyes. I could tell she was in pain.

“Hey,” she whispered with a rasp, like she wanted to say more, but couldn’t. She slumped onto me even heavier, blinking slowly and mechanically, air coming through her nostrils, like it was only a reflex. Her eyes were looking somewhere to the side, away from me. I tried shaking her, but she felt loose, her head hanging forward at an awkward position.

Then, I felt something hot sear the side of my neck. I slapped my palm against it, and it came away slick with a dark stain. My blood. Pouring out of me like a broken pipe, warm streams running through my fingers no matter how hard I pressed.

My hand kept slipping off, but I knew I had to keep as much in as possible. The warmth had already leaked under my shirt, spreading down my side, soaking down to my leg. All my clothes were feeling heavy and wet, sticking to my skin. I couldn’t hold it closed. Every breath felt harder than the last, and I was only getting colder. Shit. I’m going to bleed out. I’m going to die. Right here, in this dump. Nobody's going to find me before it's too late.

I pushed Hash off myself as gently as I could, trying to stand. My knees wobbled, and I fell forward as my vision tumbled side-to-side. My legs didn’t want to move, so all I could do was try to crawl with one arm, the other still pressed against my leaking neck. My hoodie was completely drenched, in both Hash's blood and my own.

The door felt so close, but I couldn’t pull myself along the ground, no matter how hard I tried. It felt like it was being pulled away from me, like someone didn't want me to leave. Every time I dragged myself an inch, the door got another inch further. Quickly, I became too weak to crawl, my heavy clothes not helping, drenched not by just me, but also Hash.

The room was quiet now, save for the hum of the fan, the sounds of something dripping, and a shell casing rolling around faintly. I looked back, seeing Hash lying in a pool of her blood. Her face was drained of all color, smeared with glitter and dust. Her eyes were half-closed, the spark in them completely gone. They didn't move at all, only reflecting the blue light like powered-off screens. Her chest heaved once with a jagged, wet rattle that sounded more like a filter clogging than a breath.

The world kept spinning, so I laid my cheek to the floor, unable to even sit back up. I saw Punch—or was it Frame?—sprawled out in the corner. Maybe it was both. My vision was too blurry to tell, especially with the blue light messing everything up. The same dark liquid puddled under whoever it was, spreading toward the desk. Definitely dead. That's so much. I never knew we had so much.

Am I the only one still breathing? Too tired. Can’t tell.

I was too weak to keep pressing on my neck. My hand slid down as I lost control over it. Each breath scraped like glass down my throat, heavier and more painful than the last. At least the spinning began to slow.

Cold. Can't breathe. Tired. Just want to nap.

I only thought about yellow cardigans. A lonely cat. Mom and Dad. Just don’t let them see this room.

The blue screen kept scrolling, the errors piling up like nothing had happened. I closed my eyes.