Red Rooms

There have been a chain of murders across central Manhattan. All the victims are teenage introverts, as described by their parents. Never going out, always contained within the same four walls, scrawling ironically through social media. Police are dumbfounded as to what caused the many deaths. Allegedly they were the repercussions of an internet link, but the men were apprehended. Investigator Carrie McKee has been fascinated by the mystery of the case itself, and takes it on with the few leads she has. Little does she know that she was entering into something far deeper than she had first anticipated, that could cost her things she never knew she had. This wasn't a small case. This was something global. It was all over the internet.


11. Luke's Excuse.

Brixton Apartment Complex: The night before the interrogation

Luke checked his watch. 10:30pm. Christ, he hadn't done that fucking dissertation on the anatomy of some fucking...micro-organism? A squirrel maybe? what did Michael say it was? He'd have to ask or else he was getting another disciplinary from Miss Lopez, and not the kind of punishment he'd have liked from her. Smiling to himself, he logged into Facebook and inboxed his friend. He noticed a nameless inbox, with some kind of spammy-shit message. 

'Want a juicy sum of money? Want people to look out for you?'

He scrolled down the message, which displayed a small array of similar 'enticing' questions.

'Just say you were guilty! :D'

And then a picture of a 'get out of jail free' card from a Monopoly game.


'Guilty for what?' Luke asked himself, glancing to and from the picture and his chat history with Michael, his message still unrequited. Suddenly, the little speech-bubble appeared on the chat, indicating he was typing a response.

'You're going to say you were guilty.'

'Oh it was you that sent the bullshit monopoly message. How'd you anonymize it?' Luke typed back, genuinely quite interested. It would be great to piss off more people on Facebook.  

'Say you were guilty, and we can get you out of jail, for free.' Michael replied, posting another picture of the monopoly card. Looking closer at the image, Luke noticed the eyes were somewhat distorted, which he just put down to shitty resolution.


'What the hell are you talking about, you still haven't told me about the homework, dickhead.'  He retorted, beginning to feel quite frustrated.

'All we need is the HTML coding for the 'Ghost Prank' and access into your distribution system. And then you need to say you were guilty. We can get you our of jail, for free. We will pay you. Just type "yes".'


'The hell are you talking about you twisted fuck?' Luke threw back, his palms beginning to sweat, making his fingertips skid on the keys. Michael really didn't understand how to prank, no wonder he left the operation up to him and Aaron. He was awful at it, creepy even.

'Guilty for what?'

There was a short pause. 

Michael is typing...

'My murder. :-)'

'What the actual fuck-no why would I-'

A gunshot went off in the Brixton Apartment complex.

'User:LukeHughes, this is not User:MichaelBaxton.'

Luke went cold.

'Michael is dead now, and you are going to take the blame.'

'We are sorry user:Michael and user:Luke'

'Sheep die in pursuit of hunting wolves. A regretful decision, but a necessary sacrifice. You can still be saved user:LukeHughes.'

'What do you mean 'saved'? Where the fuck is Michael, who the FUCK is this?!Luke replied. He felt sick. The gunshot was a coincidence, it was a shitty neighbourhood, anyway. There was no way that-

A video appeared on Luke's computer screen.

A dark, heavily-clad figure smiled into the camera lens, through a crude leather mask. It tilted the camera, showing itself poised over Michael's dead body. He was sprawled out in a distorted position, his limbs snapped vigorously around him, a gaping bullet-hole residing in the centre of his forehead. The figure crouched down, and picked up one of Michael's lifeless arms, mimicking a waving motion. The figure laughed.

And then snapped the arm off.

Luke spat out a burst of sour vomit, as the video minimised itself. 

Another message appeared.

'We have disabled the CCTV to the building. Witnesses have been disposed of. You have no hope of finding us. Call any authorities and we will kill all members of apartment:105'


His home.


'Do you want to die too? :-)'


F-Fuck...Michael...WHAT THE HELL IS THIS?' Luke screamed, tears falling down his face, vomit dripping from his lips.

'All we need is the HTML coding for the 'Ghost Prank' and access into your distribution system. And then you need to say you were guilty. We can get you out of jail, for free. We will pay you. Just type "yes".'

'Type "yes"'

'Type "yes"'

'Type "yes"'



Shivering, nauseous and cold, Luke typed 'Yes' into the responding box. He had no other choice. he was absolutely terrified. Immediately, his bedroom door flew open, and the figure slowly entered the premise. Luke froze.

It was still holding Michael's snapped arm, which he used to repeat the waving motion. Smiling eerily, it threw the cleansed firearm at Luke, who caught it. 

Then the figure left, taking the arm with him. Luke ran to his parents room, then his sisters, checking they were safe, his heart in his throat. He missed the final inbox-message.




'We will kill you if you do not fulfil our conditions'

'We are (In Memory). Thank you for joining us.'


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