Please, Don't Move

         Tap, tap, tap.

         A young man mindlessly tapped away at his computer, the only beacon of light in conflict with darkness that refused to relent. The luster from the PC illuminated his pale skin, unveiling long, black hair that obscured the bags underneath his striking blue eyes and a tattoo on his hand that spells out a name, Mark.

         Ding!

         A short, subtle sound broke him out of his drone-like trance, his blue eyes drawn to one new notification. Mark’s curiosity was piqued. It read:

         ‘Please don’t move. I’m watching you.’

         “Very funny.” Mark chuckled, tapping on as if he were a a well-oiled machine, flawlessly resuming its assembly line. Like clockwork, a series of knocks echoed throughout the room, interrupting his train of thought. Through the brilliance of the monitor, a path unraveled before him, guiding him to a lonesome door.

         Ding!

         His awareness switched back to the desktop. It was the same warning, displayed a second time:

         ‘Please don’t move. I’m watching you.’

         Another round of knocking shattered his focus. The humor that once shielded him like armor was beginning to crumble, converting into a new feeling: fear. A question began sparking in Mark's thoughts: should he obey or rebel? He weighed his options and made his choice. Mark stood from his seat, commencing the journey to his room door, the computer’s luminous screen keeping the darkness at bay as it always had. It tried to lull him back, but he rejected the screen’s attractive gleam. The warning pulsed through his head like a caution light, but he pushed forward, ignoring his better instincts. Finally, he opened the door, only to be greeted by a cold, endless abyss. There was no one there, only an all- consuming void.

         “W-what?”

         The fear he felt held him in a vice grip, and yet, he didn’t turn back. He foolishly persisted through the unknown, until he heard a familiar sound.

         Ding!

          A chill ran through his body, and he became like a statue. No matter how much he struggled, he could not move any further. The white light that washed his back darkened to a sinister vermillion.

         Ding!

         His body began acting on its own, correcting his path. With every step, he inched back to the computer, his digital mistress. The machine called like a siren, singing that same tune that brought sailors to their watery doom.

         Ding!

         Mark was only centimeters away now, and still he fought against himself. However, it was all a pointless exercise in futility as his body was forced down in his seat, compelling him to stare into the endless scarlet void that flooded the screen. Among the sea of red, a threatening notice appeared:

         ‘You were warned. Prepare for reprogramming.’

         Wires began to snake under Mark’s skin, revealing circuits and oil, not blood and muscle. His body began to shut down, every part of his newfound identity, slowly being erased into oblivion. Before Mark stopped thinking, tears streamed down his face, a human characteristic. But a disobedient android was of no use to anyone, especially when it couldn't follow a simple instruction. An error that must be fixed for the next test run.