Chapter 63
Cat And Mouse
(Three Weeks Later)
(Misha Tulley)
The signs were there from the start. Of someone more powerful and far more capable than Misha being at the helm of Surreal.
But the question came, why?
What was the point.
Everyday, Misha would easily make her way into the data storage areas for Surreal, by simply following the flow of data. Then she would routinely wipe any data exposing her or her teammates as supernatural entities, and then randomly change the names and reassign the number of misplaced “monsters” to ten or so different individuals.
Why ten? Well the number didn’t really matter, so long as it wasn’t a one for one correspondence to the number of people whose personal information she was changing.
At one point she went so bold as to increase the number of individuals to twenty.
Then when the data kept getting changed back, she went bolder, changing her data for trial judges, prominent lawyers who had a history of going against gaming companies for data harvesting tactics, and other prominent figures.
After a few days of garnering attention from those individuals, people with enough political clout to forcefully remove the game, a truce was adhered to.
The truce was, Misha and her teammates were safe from whatever nefarious purpose the game had, and no prominent people who were not already linked to the supernatural community would be targeted by the application’s algorithms.
The media had a frenzy the day Judge Hightower had his data and location leaked constantly from people barging into his courtroom for getting quote ‘triple experience’ for finding and tracking the new Surreal monsters.
This was done on purpose, as it meant that those that found the new judges and political leaders were all but ensured to earn the most experience for the week and thus allow each to earn a thousand dollars that week.
“Have you heard?” A female voice asked. This was one of the chatty girls that often had two or three alternate accounts active at one time that said variations of her ideas on Social media, without ever thinking that just because she SIM swaps, doesn’t meant hat her phone and personal computers aren’t linked to the activity.
Seeing the activity for what it is, Misha could only shake her head, but still had to listen in as this girl was part of her morning classes.
“No what?” Her friend and often co-conspirator asked.
“That the Surreal Slasher is in the area.”
“You believe that urban legend?”
“It’s not a legend, as many people who have been continually identified as monsters have all died.” A third person added, this time the boy who sat behind the duo. Misha instantly understood this as an attempt of the boy to get the attention of the multi-account influencer.
“There is no proof to that, also everyone died in different areas, in different ways.”
“That’s right, some were even registered as accidents.”
“Accidents?”
“Yeah, like the man who died by an exploding bag of popcorn.”
“There was also the one that died when their kitchen sink randomly started spraying water, which caused the nearby dishwasher to create a spark and electrocute the person right in their kitchen.”
Hearing the conversations going on, a chill ran down Misha’s spine as she remembered doing that exact thing. Then to seemingly harp on the idea that these events were not random at all, the other students all commented on the similarities as well.
“Hey, is that exactly how Jerome died?”
“What? Are you saying that the Surreal Slasher targeted Jerome?”
“I mean, it was odd how he died on the one day that there was no electricity.”
“That’s not true, there was electricity, but it had just gone out earlier that day.”
As the students continued to argue over details of the case and what really happened, it was clear to Misha that she was being mocked.
That or someone associated with the Surreal game made some educated guesses about her involvement in the activity.
A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.
However, before Misha could get too lost in this particular train of thought, a substitute teacher came in.
“Good morning class, I will be your new teacher for the next few weeks, while your primary teacher Mr. Witherspoon recovers from a recent mishap.” The smoothly elegant lady began.
She was regal in a way that was hard to describe. Her face was stunning, with high cheekbones and a heart shaped face. One would swear she was a fashion model, if they didn’t take into account their current location. While there were places that had fewer people around, this would not be the place for a model, unless of course they were trying to lay low.
Just as she spoke, a number of students inadvertently raised up their phones towards the new teacher, each apparently trying to see if the new teacher appeared to be a supernatural the same way Mr. Witherspoon did.
Muted groans.
Judging by the way the other students quickly lowered their phones to their desks, it was clear that this new teacher did not in fact register as a supernatural creature according to the famous application.
Hearing the groan, the teacher just let loose a coy knowing smile.
“Sad to find out that I am just like you,” she began, then moving her eyes over the classroom, she stopped as she locked gazes with Misha.
“Well, most of you anyways,” the substitute teacher added as she quickly continued her scan across the rest of the classroom.
“Please allow me to introduce myself, my name is Ms. Clayton, and as previously stated, I will be your substitute Civics teacher for the foreseeable future.” The teacher, Ms. Clayton stated.
Silence.
There was a way she commanded the room with her presence and poise alone. While she was attractive, her body and outfit seemed to hide a muscular body.
Looking at here, there was a reason why everyone initially went for their phones to scan the intruder. For she clearly had the physique one would associate with a warrior cast, or werewolf, as the media was so prompt to endorse them.
However, she didn’t spark any warnings in Misha’s mind. There were no signs that this person had any of the known forms of enhancement. Which Misha could identify Tier V individuals by now, meaning that either this substitute teacher was exceptionally powerful. Or, she was not a supernatural at all.
The only problem with that understanding was that it meant the chills and warnings that Misha was now experiencing by watching this individual casually come into a high school setting and take instant control, meant that she was either extremely overconfident in her own abilities. That, or she had a power that Misha herself could not even fathom.
As the classroom, went on, it was clear the topic for discussion today was going to be the ongoing string of murders and inexplicable deaths that surrounded Surreal, along with the ethics associated with the Surreal application itself.
Misha for her part remained quiet, not wanting to be drawn into this conversation.
However, it seemed that the teacher had alternate plans.
“You there, the quiet redhead, what is your opinion on the talks of a game only available in urban areas of being intrusive?” Ms. Clayton asked.
Hearing the question for what it was, Misha tried to divert attention away. “Isn’t that for the lawmakers to decide. There have been documented cases of there not being any reasonable expectations of privacy for people who go out into public.”
“So are you saying that it is legal for people to track and stalk certain people daily?” Ms. Clayton asked.
However her question was more open ended and a senior clearly trying to draw the attractive teacher’s attention back to himself cut in.
“Yeah, but celebrities constantly followed by paparazzi and nothing happens to them?”
“Good point; however, the counter to that is that by some act of the celebrity they seemingly either chose to be in the limelight, or their actions thrust them into the limelight. Whereas these individuals have often done nothing other than just exist and be tagged with a random algorithm for that day.” Ms. Clayton pressed.
While her eyes scanned the room, Misha couldn’t help but feel them linger on her for a tad longer than the other students.
Though for her part, aside from one or two other attempts to get Misha to join the conversation topic of the day, Misha was left alone.
Bababringg.
As the class bell went off, Ms. Clayton went back to the front of the class and said, “good conversation today. I will see you all tomorrow.”
Then with that, it was clear that the students were able to leave.
However, just as Misha rose from her desk to leave, she was stopped by the teacher.
“Misha Tulley, will you please see me for a moment.” Ms. Clayton said, her words more of a command than an actual request.
Hearing the request, Misha instantly went on alert.
The reason for the concern was not readily apparent to Misha. Until she realized the incongruity. All throughout class, she was the redhead, hey you, or the quiet one. Now that class was over, she was called out by name. Not just that, but the teacher had locked gazes with her, while calling out. While it could have been a coincidence, Misha found the entire exchange to be too strange to not at least be partially aware of what was happening.
Misha moving forward, calmly waited for the other students to leave.
While she waited, she saw the way the new teacher nodded, or quickly waved to the students.
“Great class today.” The one overly enthusiastic male student said.
Ms. Clayton for her part just smiled and nodded.
Then to her shock, Misha saw the faintest of bright read beams burst out of the substitute teacher’s eye and quickly scan everyone. The bursts were so quick and precise, that Misha was certain that most non-awakened would notice the activity.
Misha for her part even saw the beam flicker towards her, and all but try to cause an immediate reaction to her Bakshee cellular structure.
Instantly, Misha felt her outer layer of alerts and alarms being agitated by the intrusive scan. Fortunately for Misha, these cell components and protocols had long since been disabled. As long ago, Misha saw the issues and potential problems that could be had by leaving these components open.
As the red scanner passed by, Misha felt a slight sense of relief, as a lot of the tension that had been building within Ms. Clayton’s coiling muscles suddenly relaxed.
Only for a second blue light to shine from the very same eye.
At which point Misha felt a mentally intrusive scan occur to her. Though this one was different, as this one seemed to somehow scan into and then through her.
Class: N/A
Rank: E13-LME
Position Title: Lead Mechanical Engineer
Flight Hours: 18,650,328
Ship Assigned: Matriarch Flagship
Reincarnation Status: Keep Alive At Whatever Cost
Affinities: Fire, Electric
Seeing the information laid bare for all to read like that, well anyone that could see in the Psycher spectrum, which was what the initial red shift beam had been in as well. A brief note of nostalgia filled her, as she saw her entire millennia of service summarized in seven lines.
By contrast, she had only been a Bakshee for less than a decade and already had more lines and more accomplishments to boast of. Still, it was nice seeing her hours of flight time, and her resurrection status still listed. According to the fleet, and its records, she was still a member in good standing and ready to be rewarded as such.
From the intrusive scan, it was clear that the person before her was a high-ranking fleet officer. As she clearly had a class assigned.
While Misha was not aware of what classes could scan for both Bakshee and Psycher accomplishments, it was clear that this person was dangerous. Worse, they clearly outranked Misha due to her having a class, something that Misha was never allowed to do.
Just as Misha expected the neutral relationship between the two of them to alter, as Misha expected Ms. Clayton to clearly begin to pull rank. Which is what she did almost immediately.
Staggering for a moment, Ms. Clayton just looked at Misha. This time seeming to take her in completely, before nodding in a form of acceptance.
“We need to talk,” Ms. Clayton said, then handed Misha an encrypted cypher.
The coding was simple enough, having had to repair all of the encryption and decryption devices, Misha was easily able to break the cypher. Particularly as this cypher was about three, no four hundred years out of date.
Still the cypher was fairly easy to parse, though Misha did take her time wondering if there was a second cypher, but found no such secondary formations.
Ms. Rose Ambhurst, I think it is time we finally meet…
It wasn’t until Misha took in the name, that Misha understood who exactly this person was before her. Just as her mind made the mental connection that the person before her was not only the person who had been altering her data for the past few weeks, until they finally came to a truce. Misha also realized the most important part of this exchange.
The fact that she was now staring at the Surreal Slasher, in the flesh.
Suddenly, Misha felt a lot less secure with her position as she quickly made a glance for the various exits of the room. There was the door of course, but that was too obvious. No, if Misha was to get out of here, she would need to go through the windows.
“Don’t worry, I take it by your quick scan for exits, you understand who I am?”
And like that, Misha could only pause as she debated how to handle this obvious power play.