The Place That Doesn't Exist
Microfiction - 500 Words or Less
From her port pack, Etta maneuvered the mechanisms until cords slithered out. Then she fed one of the snake-like devices into the implant at the back of her neck, right at the base of where her spine met her skull.
As soon as her brain was uploaded to the Net, she closed her eyes.
You’re late, It said.
I know. I’m sorry. I’ll try to do better.
There are no excuses. You need to understand that if you want to be Better.
I know, Master, she whispered in the recesses of her brain.
The Net ensnared her senses, and her eyes snapped open—her once-brown eyes lighting up with a neon blue hue. Then her head fell back, her eyes still wide open as she stared, unseeing, at the ceiling.
I’m sorry! I’m sorry! Please don’t hurt me!
But her cries were only in her brain as her body began to convulse from the hold the Net had over her. Black tears began to stream from her eyes.
Please, please, please. I’m begging you. Don’t do this to me.
The Net snickered in the back of her mind.
It had dominion over everything, and she? She was no better than a mouse in a trap.
It’s too late. You failed.
Then the light behind her eyes began to die.
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