Red Stranger
This continues the story started in Decoherence.
The door doesn’t slide open at his approach. He stops and looks at it blankly, that had never happened before.
“Computer” he says, raising his voice slightly.
“Yes John”, an androgynous voice replies seeming to issue from thin air.
“My apartment door won’t open”
There is a momentary pause, something unprecedented in his experience.
“Diagnostics are reporting no faults and your apartment is empty, but apparently you are already inside. Would you like me to dispatch security?”
“Negative, it’s probably just a glitch on the door sensors.”
“As you wish, have a pleasant day.”
The door slides open and he steps through, dropping his bag in a chair and heading to the kitchen.
At the kitchen door, he stops suddenly and looks puzzled. He turns and heads towards the bathroom, from where he can hear the sound of running water.
“Computer?”, he says again.
No response.
Nervously he edges towards the bathroom and looks inside. Unconscious in the bath is a naked woman, the shower is on and water is flowing down and over her. Grey goo trails down the side of the bath and the last remnants of it are dissolving, revealing the redness of her hair as the water continues to flow.
“Computer?”, he says again, louder.
No response.
He slowly backs away and then turns and runs back to the apartment entrance. The door remains firmly closed and he nearly runs into it.
He presses on it, he pushes the emergency release button.
Nothing happens.
“Computer?”, he says, a tone of desperation in his voice.
No response.
“Computer?”, he asks again
He turns slowly and walks through to the living room. “Network!” he commands.
Nothing happens.
Frantically he runs to the terminal on his desk and activates it. “No connection” blinks on the screen. He runs from room to room, shouting for the computer, turning on everything he can. Soon he is surrounded by blinking “No connection” lights. He screams for the computer but is met by silence. Frantically he runs back to the door and scrabbles at it, banging on it.
Eventually his panic subsides and he sinks down to sit on the floor, his back to the door that might as well be a wall. He gradually becomes aware of the silence and the stillness.
Time passes as he sits there rocking. The only sound is his sobs, the sounds of a lost little boy, and the water running in the bathroom. The computer that had been his companion all his life wasn’t talking to him.
Then the water stops.
He looks up to see her step out of the bathroom. She walks over to him. She is naked and glistening, but somehow that only makes her seem more terrible not erotic.
He pushes back as far away from her as he can get but the unyielding door stands behind him.
She reaches out and touches his cheek, tracing the pattern of his tears and then lifts her finger to her lips and tastes it. The pink wetness of her tongue seeming to leap into focus to him as she does it. In the silence he hears only the thudding of his heart.
“COMPUTER!”, he screams.
She looks at him, curiosity showing on her face but an implacable gaze in her eyes. He feels as though in that one instant she has analyzed him and discarded him as inconsequential. A hand reaches out and slowly lifts him, he tries to fight but he might as well have tried to resist gravity.
She picks him up and carries him through to the bathroom. There is silence for a while, then the sound of clothes being removed. Then a sound of screaming, and sobbing, and cries begin. Finally, mercifully, silence falls.
When she emerges she is no longer naked. It takes her a few moments to adjust her walk to match his, and she needs to stoop slightly to match his height, but soon she is satisfied. She approaches the door. It slides open before her and she steps through into the corridor.
In the empty apartment blood pools on the bathroom floor. Slowly one after another the systems shut down as the apartment goes to sleep, waiting for its tenant to return.
