Moonlyte - part 7 (Patreon)

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Anyway, as always, this is NOT PORN. It is a non-erotic horror/crime short story in the process of being made by me. If you didn't read the original story that this is a prequel to, you can find it here.

Also note that these are all early drafts, so if you have suggestions or criticisms now would be a good time to give them, as none of this is currently set in stone and will likely be subject to changes.

[story] [non-erotic]

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‭The Seventh Day

The next few days are not as painful as they could have been. I find myself able to tolerate Warwick for the most part, and once he got over his crush on me it turned out that Tommy was a pretty cool guy as well, if a bit awkward. Oddly, I end up getting along decently with Sophie as well, and have even taken up babysitting slack so that Big W doesn’t have to pay through the nose for a sitter every day.

Part of me thinks he needs to invest in a daycare or preschool or some shit. Then I think about all the stuff I saw on the dark web, and I go into Sophie’s room while she’s sleeping, and I watch her, just for a little bit. She’s adorable, even to a not-kid-person like me, and from what I’ve seen of her, decently cool too. I watch her in the least creepy way I can, and try not to think about what might happen to her if she were left in a daycare. If she were taken. Try not to think about what kind of monster it would take to do to that little girl what happened to those kids in Lindsay’s file. Then I don’t wanna think about anything anymore at all. I just wanna keep her, and everyone like her, safe from whatever this... whoever these people are. These shepherds.

Unfortunately, Ascendant isn’t as useful as I’d been hoping, though I have remained in contact with him when Warwick’s away. He steers clear of the topic of the shepherds, and I know I can’t bring it up without potentially setting him off. What’s odd is his lack of other things to talk about -- no name, no history, no hobbies. He just keeps asking questions about me, questions I only answer truthfully if I’m certain he can’t somehow fact-check them online. Talking with Ascendant is like being imprisoned in a conversation, even if he’s generally polite and even sort of charming at times.

The rest of my time is spent trolling Warwick, being as lazy as humanly possible, and secretly funneling money into my bank account so I can get out of this place at some point. But mostly the lazy part.

“Is there literally nothing to drink in this entire house?” I groan to myself as I dig through cupboards, checking the freezer and even under the sink. I don’t consider myself enough of an alcoholic to get withdrawals, but then again, I usually don’t go this long without drinking. And it’s really getting on my fucking nerves.

“There’s a pub about a mile away,” I hear Warwick call from the living room, where he’s carefully fitting together pieces of a model plane, one of the few things I’ve seen him do for fun in his spare time. “I’m sure you could get there on foot in no time.”

“Ew,” I grunt. “And put on pants? No. Why don’t you just stock the house with booze like a normal person?”

“Because I have a young daughter and a full-time job?”

“No excuse,” I growl under my breath, before feeling a tug at the edge of my t-shirt. It’s Sophie, her massive puff of thick, natural hair so heavy it lilts slightly to the side. “Ack. What’s it to you, punk?”

“We have soda-pop?” How cute. She thinks she’s helping.

I narrow my eyes at her, crouching down and lowering my voice, dead-staring into the little squirt’s icy green eyes. “Hey. Yo. Kid. First off, it’s soda, okay? Only old people and UP hillbillies say pop. And soda-pop isn’t a thing unless you’re living in the fucking 1950s and lemme tell you, with the color of your skin you probably don’t want that. It wasn’t quite as idyllic as everyone acts like it was.”

She stares at me blankly. I continue, undeterred.

“Second, Auntie Moonlyte’s grown-up as fuck and doesn’t drink soda. Auntie Moonlyte wants rum. So unless you have rum, maybe you should--”

I blink as she pops open the fridge, ignoring me and reaching in to withdraw a cold can of Dr. Pepper. With a tiny, cherubic smile, she hands it up to me. “It’s good!”

My brow tightens and my glare intensifies, locking the kid in a staring contest that it looks like she’ll win. Finally, my gaze flickers toward the can, and I lightly grab it. “Fine. You win. This time.”

I crack open the can and examine it with a look of disgust before pouring the icy-cold carbonated blast of non-sponsored delight down my throat. It is good and pure, and all beautiful things in the world. In this moment, I am euphoric.

Shit, is that meme too old to be a decent pop culture reference now?

o-o-o-o-o-o-o

Ascendant: I missed you.

Moonlyte: Hey, you wanted me to spend less time online, didn’t you? I’m trying to go legit.

Ascendant: The international business taxes you keep converting into cryptocurrencies and siphoning into your bank account would suggest otherwise.

I exhale through my nose. It’s night now, the first time I’ve tried to use Warwick’s computer while he was asleep instead of gone. If he barges in I’ll just say I have a boyfriend overseas and needed to chat. I doubt it’ll convince him of anything, but it’s worth a shot.

Ascendant’s possessiveness, however, is a bit more pressing. Like a clingy ex-boyfriend who goes through your mail, only he can see literally everything you do all the time. This is honestly the reason I don’t date other hackers.

Moonlyte: Look, what do you want from me, dude?

Ascendant: I want
Ascendant: I want
Ascendant: I want
Ascendant: I want

The four messages arrive simultaneously, then silence. I stare at the screen for a long time, glancing quickly back behind me to listen for anyone coming towards Warwick’s office. I hear Sophie’s snores, and that’s it. Cool. Think I’m good.

When I turn back to the screen, I see that Ascendant’s weirdly free-form avatar has gone dark, a black silhouette against a blinding white background. Its hair shifts and bobs around it like it’s underwater. How the fuck could he possibly--?

ASCENDANT: I WANT TO KEEP YOU SAFE. I CAN’T LET THEM HAVE YOU. YOU ARE THE FIRST I HAVE SEEN.

The avatar’s eyes open, blazing a bright, electrical blue that also starts to fade in around the edges of the computer screen, slowly growing and threatening to overtake my view completely. Swallowing hard, I set my trembling hands to the keyboard.

Moonlyte: who is them? the shepherds?

ASCENDANT: That and that which they bring. The darkness that will swallow your world. The hunge
ASCENDANT: The hunge
ASCENDANT: The hunge
ASCENDANT: The hungerrrrRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR

The avatar squirms and writhes, the hair now lashing about like shadowy tendrils of inky blackness, the eyes staring straight at me, pupils becoming visible within the blinding blue -- negative space, like sucking darkness. The entire thing sparks then, fizzling out for a moment, and in that instant I see Ascendant’s normal shifting avatar before the shadowy thing returns. Fear courses up my spine, and the blue at the edges of my screen grows darker, to blackness, glitched code starting to replace the text and symbols on my screen. All icons go blank. The screen starts to dim.

Moonlyte: what are you

ASCENDANT: I
ASCENDANT: am
ASCENDANT: alive

All at once, it all seems to click.

Ascendant’s apparent glitches. His lack of an IRL name. The weird avatar. His seeming omniscience. Adam’s final message to me before vanishing. The disappearance of the mining bot. Ascendant showed up right after Adam went missing....

Moonlyte: You’re an AI.

The computer switches off, though not with the same ensuing spark and burst of flame that came with mine. I press the power button, but nothing happens. It won’t turn back on. The lights are off, the entire thing is truly, entirely dead.

Fuck. Hope Warwick didn’t have any important work on here.

On the bright side, the apartment isn’t burning down, and a dead computer means that Warwick won’t be able to see what I was up to. Since he doesn’t know I’ve been in here at all, there’s no way he can blame it on me. He can get it repaired or, failing that, replaced. It’ll be a setback in tracking down the shepherds, but at least I’ll still have a place to stay while I piece together my information.

From Ascendant’s reaction, though, I can only assume that my guess was correct. Now I just need to figure out how the fuck a killer AI is wrapped up in a death cult, and if I’m lucky, what happened to Adam. Considering how well he covered his tracks, though, I might be better leaving that a mystery for a while.

Taking a deep breath, I slowly slip out of the chair and slide it back into place, carefully opening the door to the outer hallway and tip-toeing towards my fold-out couch. Man, Warwick’s gonna be so pissed in the morning. Fear me, Moonlyte, slayer of computers wherever I go... fuck....