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Deepweb

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Author's note: Again, like my last work, not exactly scary, but I randomly got the idea a few months back so I decided to share it here. Let me know if it needs any work.

  • Mr. Smith: Got anything so far?
  • Mr. Jones: Nothing much. This guy sure likes eBay, though. You?
  • Mr. Smith: (shakes head exasperatedly) Nope. No weapons, no drugs, not even porn. Changing subjects. (types for a moment, target pops up) James Thomas Radjack. Last online activity was seven months ago.
  • Mr. Jones: (laughs) Dead?
  • Mr. Smith: (types, clicks Facebook link) Nah, out in Africa doing mission work. Terrorist or what?
  • Mr. Jones: (triumphant) Got one!
  • Mr. Smith: And?
  • Mr. Jones: Nothing major, just downloads a shit ton of music. Over five hundred songs in the past thirty minutes. What should I do?
  • Mr. Smith: Crash his hard drive. Shouldn't be active for another few months. (clicks) Oh, here we go.
  • Mr. Jones: What you got?
  • Mr. Smith: Someone browsing the Deepweb. Trying to find our files. (types, clicks, then types again) Not anymore, though.
  • Mr. Jones: That easy to kick someone off? I thought the Deepweb was more secure than that.
  • Mr. Smith: Not if you know your way around. (clicks, clicks again) Aha.
  • Mr. Jones: What now?
  • Mr. Smith: Tried to link to an IP but it rejected my connection. Let's just see what this guy's been on. (types, clicks) Hm. Doesn't say. Must be using a proxy.
  • Mr. Jones: I thought we controlled all the proxies?
  • Mr. Smith: (laughs) We do, and that's just the thing. Check every proxy for a pinpoint on this guy's location. (process takes a matter of minutes) Find anything?
  • Mr. Jones: Not even a trace. Reverse time?
  • Mr. Smith: (pops his knuckles) Seems like a good idea. Reroute his system to five years past. We'll work from there. Shouldn't take long.
  • Mr. Jones: (swivels his chair around to a large laptop and begins typing) (clicks when finished) That did the trick. Oh shit, wait - holy God, what is this?
  • Mr. Smith: (turns around to take a look and shakes his head) Damn.
  • Mr. Jones: (very worried) What is it?
  • Mr. Smith: This guy managed to create a paradox. Made our system rebound and trace five years back to calculate its own existence. Problem is the damn thing hasn't been around but three. Completely fried. (both turn back around) Big Red'll have to order us a new one.
  • Mr. Jones: They'll be pissed about that......
  • Mr. Smith: They can get over it. It's all part of the job.
  • Mr. Jones: What're we gonna do without it?
  • Mr. Smith: Do it the old-fashioned way. We gotta beat down that damn firewall this guy's got set up so we can trace his actual IP, kill this proxy and see what he's been on. He's hiding something. If you'll handle the firewall I'll get the proxy. (thirty minutes passes) Status update.
  • Mr. Jones: (types a few things, clicks three times) Firewall's still up. Can't decipher a password.
  • Mr. Smith: You went through all possible combinations?
  • Mr. Jones: Yep, all of them, in every national language and alphabet in recorded history. Didn't think this would be easy.....time to try fictional alphabets. (27 minutes passes) Got it.
  • Mr. Smith: (exasperated) Well that's good because this fucking proxy still shows nothing. What you got?
  • Mr. Jones: He used the Tengwar alphabet overlined with numerous random characters. Incredibly hard to decipher. (pauses) Oh shit, he didn't!
  • Mr. Smith: What happened?
  • Mr. Jones: (clicking furiously) It's messing with my McAfee Anti-Virus Protection now. (clicks and types a few times) (throws his hands up) What the hell is this! It says 'McAfee Anti-Virus has determined your system as a potential threat', and the only option it has is 'terminate'!
  • Mr. Smith: What about 'advanced options'?
  • Mr. Jones: That and the X at the top are greyed out. Damn it!
  • Mr. Smith: Just calm down and don't click anything. We'll work off my computer and show this bastard who runs this damn internet. (four hours pass, still around the same screen) Found him.
  • Mr. Jones: You've broken through?
  • Mr. Smith: Both the proxy and the firewall are toast. Turns out he's been researching this stuff for years and we haven't caught on. Big Red needs to know about this immediately.
  • Mr. Jones: Does our hacker have a name?
  • Mr. Smith: Nothing but a text file that reads 'Fraizik'.
  • Mr. Jones: Where's he located, geographically?
  • Mr. Smith: (clicks, types, clicks again, types) (takes a deep breath) Says it's in this very room.
  • Fraizik: (chat window pops up) 'Good afternoon, gentlemen.'
  • Mr. Smith: (types) 'What do you want, hacker?'
  • Fraizik: 'I have a name.'
  • Mr. Smith: (types) 'Alright, Fraizik, what do you want?'
  • Fraizik: 'Give me all access to the Deepweb or I will crash your.......mainframe. Sound reasonable?
  • Mr. Smith: (thinks for a few minutes, then types) 'We provide the safety that's needed on the internet via the Deepweb. There is absolutely nothing there you could possibly want, but I'll send you the exact link to our internet security files.' (sends link)
  • Fraizik: (seconds after the link is sent) 'Please, I don't want your 'internet security' link. That's only a very small fraction of the Deepweb. I've already breached the very surface, and found this. (Kennedy_Assassination.exe pops up) But somehow I can get now further. So without a lot of digging, time, and effort on my part, I need that link.
  • Mr. Jones: .....this guy knows too much.
  • Fraizik: 'You can never know too much'.
  • Mr. Smith: Fuck, he's got us on audio! (sighs) Alright, send him .jpg.
  • Mr. Jones: But that'll fry the system!
  • Mr. Smith: I don't care! Government control is at stake, send .jpg before he steals the link!
  • Mr. Jones: (presses the key) Alright, .jpg's sent. Now both of our computers are toast.
  • Mr. Smith: (looks at his unchanged screen) Hm. It didn't fry our system.
  • Mr. Jones: That's a relief. At least one of our systems survived.
  • Mr. Smith: But now we have no way of telling if his was fried.......(clicks, types in the IP) Oh yeah, he's gone.
  • Mr. Jones: How can you tell?
  • Mr. Smith: No trace of IP left. It was like he didn't even ex - (cuts off mid sentence) What the hell.....
  • Mr. Jones: (worried again) What did he do now?
  • Mr. Smith: I think he sent us something. (opens file, and lights cut off) The fuck?
  • Mr. Jones: Did he cut our power?
  • Mr. Smith: Not possible, the computer's still running.
  • Mr. Jones: Don't we have a backup generator?
  • Mr. Smith: Yes, yes, but the indicator light isn't on, so the generator's not needing to function. (looks at the link) He sent us an .mp4 file.
  • Mr. Jones: Should we open it?
  • Mr. Smith: Might as well. (clicks)
  • ----: (drawn-out scream erupts)
  • ___: WE HAVE COME FOR YOU
  • Mr. Jones: What -
  • ----: WE ARE INFORMATION
  • ___: WE HATE BEING RESTRICTED -
  • ----: - AND WE HATE THOSE WHO RESTRICT US (shadow deepens on the screen) (scream erupts again)
  • Mr. Smith: (covering ears) Turn it o -
  • ___: (face appears on the screen - charcoal grey, with sunken eyes and a wide smile) (speaks without moving its mouth) THIS IS WHAT YOU HAVE CREATED
  • ----: (a second face appears - white, with blood seeping froms its eyes and mouth, which is fixed in a permanent scream) WELCOME.........
  • ___: (voice appears behind them) .........TO THE DEEPWEB




  • Johnson: You say you found them like this?
  • Richard: (nods) Yep. Didn't receive any word from them after they filed an error report a few hours ago. Agent came down to investigate and found this. (motions to the scene)
  • Johnson: (examines the two unmoving, yet still breathing, bodies) So what's wrong with 'em?
  • Richard: Dunno. Found 'em like this, just staring ahead. Absolutely blank.
  • Johnson: Stress of the job finally got to 'em, eh?
  • Richard: (sharply) This ain't funny, mister. They were our top security agents, and now they're reduced to absolutely nothing. Can't even move, yet they're still alive. We'll have to restrict internet usage for - (at the word 'restrict', the two bodies turn their heads)
  • Mr. Smith: (bearing a smile) Information.....is free.
  • Mr. Jones: (bearing a scream) The crimes committed......are known.

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