World Storage Program

The internet is a vast place. Wait .wait, your rolling your eyes and giving an exasperated sigh: “are you kidding me?” You're probably reading this online, now. How did you expect it to start, with blood? I wish it were that simple. The net. How people take it for granted. I took it for granted, just like everyone else. I mean, nothing happens in this world. It’s only in that book, that movie, that things happen. The world is a bleak reality of realness. Yeah, dreams are good, and there are weird stories out there, but pssht, come on!

So I clicked on the banner proclaiming 'World Storage Program.' It was a game. It had to be. The catchy hook began as follows 'Are you painfully aware of how limited your body is? Are you always thinking about how, a hundred years later, when life will be way more interesting, you'll be bones [if you’re fortunate]. You want immortality? Then click here, to shed your body and live on forever in the vast world of the internet.'



Wierd game. I had thought, as I pressed on it. My net is not exactly road runner fast, so I had time to read the rest of the strange banner. There were x;s [XXXXX] and a date: [2000.Earth.] Then finally : [PRJCTINTERMORTINVAZ-FILE 253589399]



"Pretty creative." I commented.



The page opened, and white words on a black background proclaimed "Sit still and watch screen for data substitution and storage." I waited-



-then woke up staring at myself sitting in my chair. While i watched, i saw myself rise and walk around the room with a dazed expression, i touched my bedside lamp, flipped the pages of my homework. I saw myself produce my phone and browse through it. Then it hit me: What the hell was happening?



Myself came over and looked at me through the screen, "You just sold your body to me, kid. Have a happy immortality. At least, if you don't get deleted or something."



I walked away, exiting the room, and that was all.



In my ventures online, I got used to the fact that my view was usually 2D. I also got used to the terrifying moments when a server got down when I was in it, not to mention anti-viruses. I fortunately evaded all such occurrences. In my state I can do anything here, except smell and touch, but I don’t miss it. I quite frankly enjoy myself. But the kick is, I finally met others like me, people who lost their bodies to the program, and guess how many there are?

2.5 Billion. Oh yeah, make sure your friend is a friend, because he might be a walking program, hoping for God-knows-what.



Stevenson Dore.



“Who the hell is this?” Michelle asked her friend, Amy. Amy looked at the e-mail and frowned,



“Some wierdos keep on mailing me that story. Must be a cult or something.”



Michelle snorted, Then Amy asked,



“Where do I keep my phone again?”