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The Blue Light Effect

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A rainy night in Oregon...

"So what troubles you, Mr. Calhoun?"

Billy Calhoun lay on the old recliner, relaxing. The cushioning was not plush, but its crackling red leather would do for any good night's sleep. He didn't mind the creaking of the rusty metal appendages of the leg-rester extending to comfort his knees either. Nor the white light which was cast upon him by a single bulb hanging from a ceiling lamp. Or how he couldn't see the psychiatrist's face through the thick shadows that surrounded him, but only the glinting of his round-glass spectacles. He only minded how it all felt like a monochromatic interrogation scene from one of those old detective movies from back in the day, but without the constraints. He felt like some sort of criminal, when all he really was was a man seeking help.

"Dreams. Nightmares. That sort of stuff," Billy replied after a deep breath.

The Psychiatrist grunted in understanding. "I see. Can you describe what these dreams and nightmares are about? What goes on?"

A silence surrounded the two men for a few moments. Sweat trickled down Billy's forehead. He blinked a long, trembling blink. He opened his eyes.

"So it's in a forest. Every time it's in a forest. You can't see the sky because the trees are too tall, but I'm pretty sure it's during the night, because almost everything is covered in shadows. There's always one branch you can see, and it's long and twisty and mossy, and the bark is all crusty and crackling. It's just the branch for a couple minutes, but then something creeps out of the shadow that the branch grows out of. It's, uhhh, it's one of those lemurs. Those ring tailed lemurs." 

Billy swallowed.

"It slowly comes out of that shadow, like it doesn't fully show its body until five minutes later. Everything's dead silent, and the thing just stares at me. It has these too-big yellow eyes with pinpoint pupils. And it just stares at me with them. Then right before I wake up, it screeches at me like it's gonna kill me. It's fucking horrible, man. And it's always recurring so I have to deal with it every night."

"And has anything ever changed in any of the copies of the nightmare before?"

"No. I don't know if I ever want it to change, you know? Because, what if it's good, what if it's bad? You just don't know."

Another grunt. "I see. Now let's check over the effects of these instances..."

Billy could hear the shifting of paper, saw the light's reflection slide across the glasses, and the Psychiatrist cleared his throat. "Unconscious screaming, unconscious urination, unconscious weeping, minor insomnia..."

Minor. Minor? What a damned joke.

"Pink eye. Is this true?" 

"Yeah. Coincidence, right?" Billy replied with a nervous chuckle. The Psychiatrist ignored that.

"Alright, well that about wraps it up-"

"What do you suggest, doctor?" Billy interrupted, sitting up from the recliner. "What do you think will help me?" 

More glinting of the glasses. A moment of silence. "Well... Other than some very intense sedatives and possibly some cerebral, maybe even neural surgery, I suggest you purchase a Surveillant."

Billy furrowed his brow. "Come again?"

"A Surveillant, Mr. Calhoun. A frame of automata, used to free their patients of their nightmares forever. It even tells you about itself."

He almost asked if that was a robot, but Billy didn't want to make a fool of himself. That's what he guessed 'frames of automata' were, so he stuck to the idea. He now pondered about it, but only for a small moment, because a robot could beat surgery and sedatives any day.

"How much do these things cost?"

Billy Calhoun bought his very own Surveillant for an affordable cost of $499.99 (!!!). He purchased it the day after the psychiatrist appointment, and boy was he excited. He finally owned himself a robot. He could be the new kind of normal person now, because back in his day, there were no intelligent robots other than Siri and that Jeopardy machine. Now barely anyone had a job because of these metal people running around, doing all the work for everybody. Though he still was a working man. He was one of the last 'manual' car engineers on the planet, which made him feel special, but sad at the same time. One of the last.

The four days that followed were working and waiting, until the fifth day rang the door bell. He had been on his computer, looking at the reviews for the thing on Amazon, and was wondering why there were none of which on this 'NEW BEST SELLER', when he heard the simple ring at the door which echoed through his Oregon house. He quickly descended down the stairs from his office like an excited child on Christmas. He got to the door and clicked it open. Billy jumped back in fright.

In the door way stood something man-like, but was not a man at all. It was blue and silver. Its framing, it's bone-like appendages and face, along with the disc-like gears that made its joints were silver, and its carbon-fiber tendons and muscles, it's plastic, oil-filled veins, and fleshy, heart-like rubber engine inside it's metallic ribcage were blue. It looked like a mechanical man without skin. But what made it look most inhuman was, ironically, its face, which tried too hard to make itself look realistic without having hair: it was bald, of course, with a shiny silver cap which descended into a smooth rubber-skinned jaw with rubber lips. It had no ears, simply indentations, and its eyes had plastic eyelids which half-covered its luminescent blue irises in a calm manner.

"Hello sir," it said, its voice a calm, staticky British servant cliché as its lips and jaw moved unrealistically, mechanically. "You now own me, your very own Surveillant. Now let us get down to business, shall we?"

The Surveillant then stepped forward and into the house, nearly walking into Billy. He stepped out of the way, glaring at the machine. 

"You been programmed with any manners?" Billy jeered, but to no response.

It halted in the middle of the main entrance room, and faced its owner.

"Just tell me when you are going to sleep, and the process will start. Once you see the blue light, your liberation will begin. You will be free."

Billy stared at it for awhile, and it gazed back at him with that calm expression.


For the rest of that day, it gazed at Billy. Everywhere he went, it would look at him. It wouldn't follow him, but it would always be looking. It was surveying him, alright. But that bugged him, and he had left the house because of it. Billy decided to go run some errands, and when he got back to his house, it was already looking at him, as if it knew he was coming to the door. But it only stood in the very center of the main room, and it seemed like it always would. Until night came.

At around ten o'clock, Billy yawned after being on his computer for a few hours, and decided it was time to go to bed. He drowsily exited his office and began to go down the stairs, when he noticed the Surveillant. It was still gazing him. It had always been. 

"Well," Billy said, yawning again, "I think I'm gonna go to sleep now. So do whatever you do to make this whole nightmare thing go away."

"Understood." it said, and began to walk towards Billy.

"Wait, woah, woah, what are you doing?" he said, on edge at the machine's new behavior.

"Beginning the process, sir."

Billy swallowed, and began walking towards the bedroom. It followed him silently. He went through the bedroom doorway, to the side of his bed, and crawled into the sheets. The Surveillant halted at the side of the bed. As Billy snuggled up completely, he looked at the machine. It leaned over him, its arms folded behind its back.

"Are you ready, sir?" 

Billy was really nervous now.


"Very well, then."

Suddenly, with a rather loud clicking and grinding noise, its eyelids started to fold back, and its irises glowed white now. The lights, which he forgot to turn off, seemed to do so on their own, nothing touching the light switch.

All Billy could see in the darkness were those white irises staring at him. Now he had to deal with two pairs of eyes staring into his soul. He didn't know whether to be angry at he who recommended the Surveillant, he who created the Surveillant, or the Surveillant itself. 

He quickly turned away from those eyes in his sheets. He began to hope.

You will be free.

The branch stuck out of the shadows like a sore thumb, all of its greens and browns greatly contrasting with the black beyond. Crickets chirped. Chirped. Chirped. Chirped.




The branch began to shift, lightly bobbing up and down. Something rustled beyond, like leaves. 

A face slipped into the light. It was a furry face, a white face with a dusky grey cap. Its ears were also white and stubby. Its nasal area was black skin, with a wet, black button nose. Its mouth was a lipless angle towards the nose. Its eyes were...

White, surrounding pin-point pupils. They lacked eyelids. They were each three inches in diameter. Big. And they stared. 

At you.

A gray-furred, black-fingered hand crept out of the shadows. One finger at a time, it gripped the branch. It slowly pulled forward, and the face inched closer. Another hand of the same appearance appeared, copied what the other did, pulling the face closer still. The furry torso now showed itself; it had a grey back and grey sides, but the belly and chest were white. Hind legs crept out of the shadows too, their feet having the same appearance as the hands, as well as making the same actions as the arms and hands. 

The face was inches from your own now. Those eyes burned into you.

The tail whipped out from the darkness, signifying what this creature was: the ring-tailed lemur. This lemur still crept forward. 

Then it stopped.

It halted in place on the branch, the spot where it was two inches from your face, but it still stared at you with those gaping white eyes.





Billy gasped in terror, his eyes shooting open. He was hyperventilating, but it soon faded. He looked around his room, wildly. 

The Surveillant was gone.

"Oh, that son of a bitch," Billy mumbled as he scrambled out of bed.

He hurried over to his bedroom door, switched on the lights and examined his room one more time. Nothing. He turned and opened his door.

The Surveillant was standing where he had been during yesterday (before Billy went to sleep), and it still gazed at him with that calm, blue look again. It actually calmed Billy a little with the fact that the machine didn't have that crazed, white-eyed face that it had the night before still. But he was still anxious. 

"Good morning, s-"

"Don't play that bullshit with me. My appointments with that damned lemur didn't stop. What the fuck's the deal?" Billy interrupted, furious that the machine hadn't done its job. His words did not deter the Surveillant's facial expression.

"It takes time, sir." it calmly remarked. 

"Of course it takes time!" Billy replied sarcastically. He then stepped closer to the Surveillant. "Look, when's your magic gonna take place? Huh?" 

"I cannot say surely, sir. It depends on your mental state."

"Well I'm screwed then, aren't I?" Billy began to pace back and forth, flinging his arms up. "Because those eyes have really gotten me fucked up in the head."

His eyes began to tear up in frustration. He sniffled. He looked at the Surveillant. 

"I just want it to stop, man." 

"It will all be gone soon enough, sir," the thing reassured.

Another sniffle. "Fuck you."


Billy began searching details of the Surveillant's process on the Internet that day. He had first read the description made by the producers of the machine:

'This life-like frame of automata works dreams on their owners' minds! Over a certain amount of time, you'll be sure to feel the anxiety of your nightmares and night terrors slip away, but only with the fantastic Surveillant in your house-hold! Buy it now!'

What a load of crap.

Then he scoured Google for some actual reviews. He checked Amazon again, but to no prevail. He then just searched 'reviews on surveillant'. He finally found a forum of product reviews, and found a topic on the Surveillant. Though the only comment he found on it said:

'Can somebody please tell about their experience with the Surveillant? I've had it for a few days now, and I just want to see if anyone can relate with me.' - Steve Brigandy, 7/21/22

Thank God. 

He quickly typed in a reply as an 'Anonymous Reviewer':

'Hi Steve. I have had the thing for a couple days now, and so far, it's not really helping, it's just creeping me out. Same with you?' - A.R., 7/25/22 

Billy leaned back from the computer. He felt relieved now. He smiled. Then he got up to make some coffee, even though it was in the afternoon. 

As he descended the stairs down to the main entrance room, he noticed that the Surveillant was different somehow, in how it stood. It had a slight lean forward, but not as though it were Michael Jackson. Had it been like that since this morning? Billy couldn't recall.

It still gazed at him. He glared back at it. 

A couple hours later, Steve Brigandy responded to Billy.

'Exactly what's happening with me. I'm glad someone has finally talked to me. And it's been staring at me ever since I've bought it. And also, every morning it changes its pose, like it's mimicking my dreams. Does it do the same with you?'- Steve Brigandy, 7/25/22

'Well it stares at me, but it doesn't change poses.'

Before he posted the short reply, Billy remembered something strange the Surveillant had said to him.

'And has it ever said something about a blue light before?' - A.R., 7/25/22, he finished, and posted it.

'Yes, when I met it, it said something like "When you see the blue light, you will be liberated." I tried asking what the blue light is, but it just said "You will see soon enough." It's giving me goosebumps.' - Steve Brigandy, 7/25/22

'That asshole. I'm going to try to interrogate a good answer out of it. I'll be back on soon.' - A.R., 7/25/22

'Alright. Good luck.' - Steve Brigandy, 7/25/22

Billy then stood up from his computer and walked out of his office. He went down the stairs to face the gazing robot.

"Tell me what the blue light is."


"And don't say, 'You will see soon enough.'"

The Surveillant stood in silence for a moment. It clicked its eyelids up, and then back down to their normal position. Then it spoke.

"Of the blue light, we do not speak of."

"What do you mean 'we'? Why can't you speak of it?" Billy urged.

The Surveillant simply gazed and said nothing.

"WHAT DOES IT MEAN?" Billy roared in frustration.


"You're a fucking prick." 

That look is just too fucking calm, Billy thought, Billy knew. He just wanted to swing at it. But what if he glitched the thing out or something? Billy couldn't take the risk.

He decided to take a break from Steve Brigandy and the Internet for now. He would watch television to see if anything good was on. He walked into the hall from the main entrance room to the kitchen and living room. He sat on the living room couch, which was placed a few feet in front of the T.V., and wiped the sweat from his face.

Just calm down.

He grabbed the remote and switched it on. He first landed on some new game show he had no interest in, so he switched the channel. Cartoons, another murder on the news, and finally The Kalhini Show. Billy could dig a few laughs.

Hours passed of watching television, and Billy finally decided to go back up to chat with Steve. He ignored the Surveillant's gaze as he went up the stairs and into his office. He reopened the browser to see that Steve spoke again while he was offline.

'Hey, have your nightmares been changing ever since the thing got to your house? Because mine has, and I'm not sure how I feel about it.' - Steve Brigandy, 7/25/22

'Yeah, but only in small cases. Also, I tried to interrogate it. No real answers, but it did say "Of the blue light, we do not speak of." What do you think?' - A.R., 7/25/22

Billy waited for a couple dozen minutes, but to no reply. He yawned. He was getting tired.

He had to sleep.

Taking a deep breath, he exited the office, and as he went down the stairs he said, "I don't want you coming into my room like that, alright?"

"There is no need, sir," the Surveillant said. "I have already surveyed your nightmares."

Billy ignored it, and slammed his bedroom door shut as he entered it. He plopped down onto his bed, sighed, and slipped into unconsciousness.

Billy woke up in the morning gasping, again. Last night's nightmare was pretty much the same as it always was, aside from how the lemur's eyes changed color again; they were blue this time, like the Surveillant's. 

He slid out of bed, walked to the door and opened it. The Surveillant was in its regular place. But it was starting to change again.

Its forearms were now bent in front of itself a little, and it leaned further forward. One of its heels were risen, while the other was still flat on the ground, as if it were about to step forward. But it didn't; it was still frozen in place, like a painter's subject. And it still stared. 

"Good morning-"

"Why do you do that?" Billy asked.

"I am preparing the blue light for you, sir."

"And you're still not gonna tell me what the blue light is?"


Billy sighed, frustrated, and walked past it to go up to his office. 

He clicked open the browser, and saw that Steve finally replied.

'Well that's creepy. Have no idea what that means. Makes me dread for what it's going to be.' Steve Brigandy, 7/25/22

'Yeah, ditto. And it started doing poses now. It said it's "preparing for the blue light." when I asked what it was doing. It still won't tell me what the blue light is, which pisses me off.' - A.R., 7/26/22

A couple minutes later:

'You know, what if I touch it? What do you think will happen?' - Steve Brigandy, 7/26/22

'Touch it how?' - A.R., 7/26/22

'Just touch it. With your finger. Or what if I punched it? Because it's really putting me on edge.' - Steve Brigandy, 7/26/22

'I wouldn't do it if I were you.' - A.R., 7/26/22

After half an hour of no reply, Billy left the office. He went into the kitchen to make toast.

The rest of that day was waiting for Steve to reply and the Surveillant's gazing. Steve never did reply, so Billy decided to do every day things: go to a drive-thru, watch more television. Finally, when night came, he went to sleep.

Morning came, another gasp into consciousness. In last night's nightmare, the eyes were red; a little cheesy for a nightmare, Billy knew, which made him feel manly. He trudged over to the bedroom door, and opened it to see what the Surveillant had done this time.

Its arms were now fully stretched out in front of it, and the fingers of one hand made a frozen clawing gesture, as if to grab something. It stood on its toes, but not in a sneaking fashion. It was as if it were reaching up to something.

"Good morning, sir," it greeted calmly.

Billy ignored it and walked back up the stairs to check the forum.

'I punched it in the face. And it stopped staring at me. It's great.' - Steve Brigandy, 7/27/22

'And there weren't any glitches other than that?' - A.R., 7/27/22

Another long thirty minutes of no reply. He exited the office and went down to speak with the Surveillant.

"What if I just punched you in the face?" Billy asked the machine.

"You would damage my cranial frame, sir."

"Don't get too cocky, now. How would you react?" 

It stood in silence for a moment, did the eyelid thing that it had done when Billy interrogated it; up and down. Then it spoke. 

"I would let the blue light come sooner."

A pang of dread shot through Billy. Was that a threat? Was the blue light a bad thing? Or was the thing just being his bitch? He didn't really want know.

"Whatever." He started walking to the staircase. "My nightmares better be gone soon. By tomorrow."

"I cannot promise to rid you of your troubles by that amount of time, sir."

"THEN JUST STOP TALKING!" Billy boomed in rage. He stomped up the stairs. He slammed the office door shut.

The Surveillant was silent. It still gazed at him with calm blue eyes. 

Billy opened the forum again.

'Have you seen the blue light yet? Because when I asked it what it would do if I punched it, it said "I would let the blue light come sooner."' - A.R., 7/27/22

No reply.

He then tried searching on Google what the blue light was. He scrolled and scoured, and found one website which simply said 'what the blue light really is'. He quickly clicked on it. It buffered, and then an error screen popped up. He refreshed it. Error. Again. Another error.

He searched some more, but to no prevail.

He growled in anger and started pacing around his office. He kicked over his trash bin, and finally stomped out of the room. He looked off the railing of the second story of his house and at the Surveillant.


It gazed at him.

He ran down the stairs and grabbed the machine by the shoulders. "WHAT IS IT?" 

He tried shaking it, but the thing stood solid on its toes.

"TALK TO ME!" Billy screamed.

It was silent.

Billy took a deep, quivering breath. "Look, just because I said not to talk to me doesn't mean you have to follow that order. Alright? You can talk."

It moved its lips. "Understood, sir."

"Now please tell me:" he inched closer to the robot's face. "What is the blue light?"

Silence. Man and machine stared into each others' eyes.

Then, "You will see soon enough."

Billy swung his fist hard into the Surveillant's chin, and a rubber-smacking sound, followed by thin metal vibrations, rang out. He pushed off of the thing.

"If I don't get cured by the day after tomorrow, I will kill you. I will destroy you and I will throw you in the garbage can in which you belong," Billy said.

The Surveillant, after doing the eyelid movements, looked at its owner like a sad child, its head tilted downwards. 

"Understood, sir."

Its eyes finally stared at the ground.

Billy couldn't believe his own eyes. It actually stopped staring at him, as Steve Brigandy said! He smiled, grinned even. He then walked past the machine and out the front door to celebrate at a restaurant.

Billy returned home as the night fell, intoxicated, and swayed about as he walked through the front door to his house. He had guzzled 12 martinis at Freddy's Saloon while he was gone, did a little drunken karaoke there, too. He decided to leave his car there and take a taxi back home because he was so hammered, and then take a bus to his car when he needed it.

He leaned towards the Surveillant and caught his fall on its shoulder. He whispered into its earless temple the song he sang during karaoke.

"But when the lightnin' struck ya back, you didn't... decay... you had ta' attack. You had to give the go, very tough and not to tender! You had to fight the fight like it was the, uh..."

He snapped his head back and howled, "AGE OF THUNDAH! OOOOWOAAAOAOOHHH...!"

Billy's singing soon faded. He gazed into the Surveillant's eyes like it had to him.

"You like that? Huh? I'll do it some more...!" 

He then continued to wail the same verse from the song over and over again as he stumbled into his bedroom.

Billy opened his bedroom door the next morning to reveal something strange.

Last night's nightmare had completely black eyes, which scared Billy more than ever before. He woke up with the expected hangover. His head felt like someone had slugged it with an aluminum baseball bat. But now he thought there was something fishy in those drinks, because what he saw in front of him was bending his mind.

The Surveillant was no longer touching the ground. It was floating, solidly still. One of its legs were bent up at an angle and its hands both seemed to grasp the air, which looked like it was climbing up something. It now looked at Billy's bedroom door rather than at the floor.

"What... are you doing?" Billy timidly asked.

"I am preparing the blue light for you, sir." 

Billy said nothing more, and cautiously stepped around the levitating machine. He bolted up the stairs and into the office to check if Steve had responded yet.

He did.

'i saw the blue light' - ((account terminated)), 7/28/22

That's all he said.

Then, before Billy could fully react to Steve's username change, a loading ring appeared in the middle of the browser. When it disappeared, a text box popped up.

'This topic has been terminated for security reasons.', it said.

"The fuck...?"

What had they done to be terminated? All they did was do what they were supposed to do on these forums: describe and review. Something strange was going on, and Billy had to get to the bottom of it all.

He decided to interrogate the Surveillant one more time. He exited his office and descended the stairs. He stood behind it, and began.

"If you won't tell me what the blue light is, then you can at least tell me what happens when you see it."

Billy heard the clicking of the eyelids.

"You will begin to be liberated."

"What do you mean by 'liberated'?"

"You will be on the path to freedom."

"And what do you mean by 'freedom'?"

The machine was silent.

Instead of throwing another fit of rage, Billy thought. If 'freedom' meant 'to be rid of nightmares', then it would have surely told him that. Or was it just glitched? No, Billy knew, it couldn't be; it said and did everything perfectly fine, other than stare at him. So what else could it mean? Something so bad it was trying to hide it? Or something so good, it kept it a surprise? 

His head started aching more from all of this thinking. He couldn't understand robots. Perhaps he never would. But what he did understand is that mindless TV would calm him at the moment.

Hours were spent watching "The Kalhini Show" again, and Billy began to feel tired. He dozed off on the couch for a few more hours, and awoke to eat an early microwave dinner of teriyaki chicken. He soon finished that, and afterwards he grew tired once more. He decided to go to bed.

The next morning, after a pink-eyed nightmare, Billy saw that the Surveillant floated higher now, perhaps two feet off the ground now, and one arm and one leg were outstretched, like it was crawling along an invisible pipe or something. It continued to stare at the bedroom door. 

Billy remembered today was its due date. And the lemur was still there, in his sleeping mind.

"Your time's up, buddy. You're gonna get it today," Billy told the machine, as he was too tired to start the thing's punishment.

"Understood, sir." 

At this, Billy glared at it. Did it just give up? Or something else? 

For right now, he would just go to the T.V. and watch some programs. Afterwards, he would destroy that bastard robot.

He went to the living room, sat on the couch, and switched on the television. He landed on the news, which showed another local murder. He didn't really understand the reporter's commentary because he tuned into it at its midst, but he tried to anyways. 

"...skull fractures, lots of bruises around the body. And we've just received the victim's identification: Steve Brigandy, only 27 years old when he was killed..."



Oh shit. Oh shit, shit, shit, shit. This couldn't be real. This wasn't happening. It wasn't possible. It simply could not happen.

Oh, but it was, it was happening right in front of him! Steve kicked the bucket. He was murdered! Beaten to death! And by what? By what, Christ, what? 

No. Could it be? Did it kill him? Did the blue light kill him? Did the Surveillant kill him? Had it done something so horrible?

Would it kill Billy?

Of course not. Billy would kill the thing before it could. Besides, it was its due-date, and he didn't turn the class project in. He would be punished for that.

Billy stood up from the couch and started walking towards the kitchen. He stopped right before he walked across the hallway entrance, slapped himself against the wall, and peeked out through the hall.

The thing's upper torso was not seen, for it was leaning forward toward his bedroom too much. Billy could only see its legs. He guessed it couldn't see him.

He continued into the kitchen, halted in front of the wooden chopping block on his marble counter, and collected the kitchen knife which lay upon it. He guessed it wouldn't do so well against the metal framing of the thing, but if he could just get inside its chest or inside the rubber areas on its head, this would surely deactivate it.

Billy turned towards the hallway. He was ready to put this thing down. He didn't care if it wouldn't be able to cure his nightmares, as it told him it would do; he could just do the other things the Psychiatrist had suggested, easy-peasy-lemon-squeezy. 

He began to stride into the hallway, gripping the knife with white knuckles.

"Are you ready to go?" Billy echoed down the hall.

No reply.

"Be silent all you want. It doesn't matter to me now, you murdering bastard, because I'm gonna do to you what you did to Steve. You're gonna die--"

Billy halted as he reached the end of the hallway into the main entrance room. His eyes were wide with terror.

The Surveillant had been staring through the walls at him again. It gazed at him with wide, white-irises eyes. It taunted him with a grinning, plastic-toothed mouth.

"You're not going to get away with that, sir. We won't let you."

Billy's breath quivered in fear. He brought up his knife.

"What is this? Don't fucking get near me."

He started to slowly step around the thing. Its neck craned toward him as he moved.

"What we did to your friend was not us."


"It was himself, to tell the truth, sir."


"We do not tell lies, sir. We never have; we only hide the truths that are so horrible in your opinions."


"You will see soon enough."

"DON'T YOU FUCKING SAY THAT!" Billy screamed.

"You will see soon enough! You will see soon enough! You will see soon enough! You will see--"

Billy finally reached the door to his bedroom and flung it open. He ran inside of it and slammed the door shut behind him. As he lay against the door, he could hear those muffled words on repeat; "You will see soon enough! You will see soon enough!" Something started banging against the door then, making Billy's insides turn inside out, and he jumped away from it with a gasp. He quickly reached forward and locked it just as another bang came. He crawled onto his bed, huddled into a ball and stared at the vibrating door. 

A single tear streamed down his cheek as the chanting continued, along with whatever was hitting the door. He was scared.

A half hour later, the chanting and banging ceased. Moments after that, something started fumbling with the outer door knob, twisting it, trying to open it, but to no prevail. Minutes later, that ceased too. After that was silence.

Billy weeped himself to sleep, still clutching the knife.

Everything was black. Only black. He waited for the branch to appear and the lemur to crawl out. Waited. Nothing, still darkness. But then he saw the light.

Billy Calhoun awakened from his slumber. He opened his eyes, which looked at the ceiling. He wiped the crust from them and slowly sat up from that horrible nightmare. He stretched out his limbs. He turned and slid off the green sheets of his bed. He actually had a fear of robots now.

As he walked towards the bedroom door, he noticed himself in his tall bedroom mirror, and decided to check himself out:

Billy was a fairly well-shaped white man of 34 years of age. He had short brown hair, and a matching brown stubble upon his face. His eyes were hazel, under of which were exhausted bags of skin. He wore a green Star Wars t-shirt, and blue denim jeans, with shoeless feet. He was a car-mechanic. He lived in Portland, Oregon. He wanted some toast, maybe even some cereal, too.

He stepped towards the door, opened it, and screamed his vocal chords out as he saw what was at his bedroom door way.


He saw the blue light rush towards him in the darkness of his mind, a ringing in his ears.


he was on hte ground nd he got up. he lookd around nd saw the inside ov his house nd started walkn around. he was alone or so he thot. he turnd nd got thee nife from his bed nd walkd around agen. he wantd tost so he wnt 2 get sum. he got in2 th kitchn nd got eht bred nd wantd sum jam on his tostbred so he tuk it owtta his arm nd spred it on ther .he 8 it all and he wantd 2 go peepee. he went to eth bathroom nd wipped his weenee out nd leeked all the pink stuf owt. tht wasnt rite,,, tim to cut mr weenee goodbi!!! he lookd in th mirer nd saw that dum robot agen behind him but now it had a leemr face nd it stairedSTAREDATYOUnd he turnd arownd but nothin wus ther so he lefd thhe batroom . he startd walkn agen nd he herd sumwun sayng 



he trid seeng hoo wus behind hm but nowun wus ther. he wokd arownd agen nd then LOOK BEHIND YOU BUYT THR WAS NOONETHERE







he lookd his hed aroun with his hans nd thn he wus free

Case #747

August 2nd, 2022

Portland, Oregon

Tobland St.

Documented By: Officer Charlie Dakman

Subject ID: 

Billy Thomas Calhoun


34 y.o.a.

6'2 ft

198 lbs


PN: 9518320924

Address: 23045

Fate: Spinal rupture, internal bleeding of the brain

Notable Details of Crime Scene:

- Mr. Calhoun's neck was twisted 360° around, ultimately rupturing his spine. His neck is burned in finger-like red shapes, as his fingers are too, leading to suspicion of suicide.

- No clear reasoning of internal bleeding of the brain just yet.

- Deep 3rd degree laceration to the underside of Mr. Calhoun's left arm shows a fairly large amount of missing flesh. May have been cut open and scooped out with the kitchen knife found near his body.

- Mr. Calhoun's penis was cut off from his pelvic region, found floating in his home toilet, the water of which contaminated with an unknown pink liquid. Also may have been cut off with the knife.

- A glass window in Mr. Calhoun's kitchen was shattered, leading to what seem to be a trail of boot prints going across the backyard of the property. The trail ends at a near-by sewage drain off of the property. No further leads were found of the unknown suspect's path.

- A large patch of the back of Mr. Calhoun's hair was shaved off, and an ink stamp/tattoo has been placed in the bald spot. The ink is of text, reading 'FREE' in all capital letters.

Conclusion: Continue search for evidence.

AUTHOR'S QUESTION: Do you think that Billy's fate was good or bad (think about it for a second)? Who do you think 'we' were?

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