She said, “They remember you. They can’t have you around.”
“Am I in their mind? Are they screaming?”
Quantum memory attacks by throwing weapons or weapons-generated debris or explosions but memory is now entirely a machine-based phenomenon. Virus-aligned implants man the machine weapon.
I opened the door with force. “Did you know I was in here?,” she asked.
“I knew someone was. I hoped it was you.”
My legs started moving but it was too late. Purple shrapnel tears apart
my body, and tearing righteously even once is me physically throwing power
away. This sentence recreates an act of absolute public murder. So close to dead
but not close enough—or too dead to me now to go on. But a man shape, still.
In her mind she was three different serial killers, one of
which is still nameless, famous, and free.