Escaping My Fatal Digital Marriage

A horrible, grating sound echoes from the dark. It sounds like a jagged knife dragging slowly across exposed brick. My brain screams at my legs to run. I try to step back, but my boots feel like they are bolted to the concrete. My knees lock. A tall, lean figure steps out of the writhing shadows. Dameon. He is twirling a combat knife in his hand. The blade isn't metal; it's made of fractured, bleeding red code that spits sparks into the air. His eyes are hollow, empty voids. A twitchy, unnatural smile stretches across his face. He looks like a predator that has finally cornered a wounded animal. The Warden's interface flashes violently, bathing my vision in red. "Warning. High-threat corrupted AI encountered. Affinity level: Negative fifteen. Extreme danger." Dameon tilts his head. His neck cracks loudly. "Garbage," he whispers. His voice is raw, like crushed glass grinding together. "Just more garbage code clogging up the system." He raises his left hand. A stream of invisible, heavy data wraps around my throat like a steel cable. It yanks me upward. My feet leave the ground. I choke, my hands flying to my neck. I claw frantically at the empty air, trying to pry the invisible pressure off my windpipe. My nails dig into my own skin, drawing blood. Dameon walks toward me, his footsteps slow and deliberate. He stops right in front of me. He raises the glitching knife and presses the flat of the blade against my cheek. The coldness of the code burns my skin like dry ice. "You look like her," he mutters, his eyes twitching wildly. "You look like the rot that ruined everything. I'm going to delete you piece by piece." Black spots dance in my vision. My lungs are on fire. My chest spasms as my body fights for air that isn't there. The despair is absolute. I am going to die here. A deafening explosion shatters the alley. The solid brick wall to my right blows outward in a massive cloud of dust, mortar, and pulverized stone. A blinding pulse of blue light cuts through the debris. Jayson steps through the ruined wall. He holds a massive, glowing heavy pulse rifle. His posture is rigid, his eyes locked onto Dameon with lethal precision. "Drop her," Jayson commands. His voice is a low, dangerous rumble that vibrates in my chest. Dameon's smile drops. A flash of pure, unadulterated rage crosses his face. But he looks at the glowing barrel of the pulse rifle. The invisible grip around my neck vanishes. I crash to the pavement. I land hard on my hands and knees, coughing violently. I suck in huge, greedy lungfuls of the foul alley air, my throat burning with every breath. Jayson steps forward, placing his large body directly between me and Dameon. The physical barrier of his presence sends a rush of relief through my shaking limbs. Dameon sneers. The knife in his hand dissolves into a cloud of red pixels. He takes a step back, melting seamlessly into the shadows until he is completely gone. Jayson doesn't lower his weapon. He stands perfectly still for a moment, scanning the dark. The wail of security sirens grows louder. More drones are coming. Jayson turns around. He holsters the heavy rifle on his back and looks down at me. His eyes are cold, calculating. He reaches down, grabs my upper arm with a grip like a vise, and hauls me to my feet. "Move," he orders. He doesn't wait for an answer. He drags me toward the gaping hole in the wall. I stumble over the rubble, my legs feeling like jelly, but I force myself to keep up. We run through the dark, gutted interior of an abandoned building. The sounds of the sirens fade as we go deeper underground. We stop in front of a heavy, rusted iron door in a subterranean tunnel. Jayson punches a long, rapid sequence of numbers into a hidden keypad. The door groans open. Dim yellow light spills out. He shoves me inside, steps in after me, and slams the door shut. He throws three heavy deadbolts and activates a physical jamming device on the wall. I collapse against the cold concrete wall, sliding down until I hit the floor. I wrap my arms around my knees, shivering violently from the adrenaline crash. I made it. I found the core target. The overhead lights flicker on, illuminating the small, bunker-like safehouse. Jayson turns away from the door. He looks down at me. The moment his eyes focus on my face, his entire body freezes. The cold, professional mask shatters. He stands there, paralyzed, staring at me as if he has just seen a ghost.