Used and manipulated him for his own gain.
I turn the photo facedown on the tabletop and then something catches my eye. His window has a direct view to my home. The window you can see from this vantage point is the one behind my desk in my office.
How many times did this man watch me, waiting for me to crack so he could seep his evil inside of me?
“Unbelievable.”
“You know I like having my eye on my boys, Son.”
The sharp prick on my neck follows my father’s words. I whirl around to find him standing there, a dripping syringe in his hand.
“What did you do?” I snarl, touching my neck.
A wave of dizziness washes over me and I stumble. I’m vaguely aware of Dad easing me into a rolling desk chair. My head falls back and I stare at the ceiling until my eyes drift closed.
And then we start moving.
Riiiiing.
Riiiiiiiiiiiiiiing.
Riiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiing.
I wake to the maddening sound of a telephone ringing. Not a cell phone but one of those obnoxious landline ones. Rubbing at my eyes, I sit up in bed, taking in my surroundings.
A trickle of fear courses through me.
I know this room.
To be sure, I slide out of bed, swaying from the drugs still in my system, and head for the curtains. I grab hold of the dark material and yank, sending the rod and curtain clattering to the floor.
No window.
Just a wall.
I’ve been here before. My early days here come rushing in. The terror of being trapped. The acceptance of living with a monster.
I’m not a kid anymore, though.
I refuse to be his mindfucked toy any longer.
The phone continues its incessant ringing. Because I want it to stop, I pick it up and hold it to my ear.
“Caius?” a young female voice whimpers.
I know the voice. My sister? I don’t have a sister.
“Who is this?” I demand.
She sobs. “It’s me. Calista.”
“This isn’t real,” I bark out. “You’re not real.”
I slam the phone down and it immediately rings again. “What?”
“Please,” she begs. “Help me.”
“I know what you’re doing, Dad. I built that fucking program, remember? It’s AI.”