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RMF: Who is this? How are you accessing this computer?
Game Master: Oh, Roseline. You should know better than to go digging where you aren’t wanted.
RMF: What the hell are you doing on my system? I don’t know how you pulled this off, but you have me at a disadvantage.
Game Master: I have my ways. But don’t take it personally. Consider this a professional courtesy call between two people with valuable skills. We should be working together, not against each other.
RMF: You murdered two people that I know of so far and streamed it for your own sick amusement. Excuse me if I’m not interested in your job offer.
Game Master: Come now. Let’s not resort to nasty labels. Every great endeavor requires sacrifice. Progress demands a willingness to get one’s hands dirty. I’m simply providing a service to people starved for authenticity and funding my operations at the same time, getting rid of society scum. It’s business, not butchery. It’s art.
RMF: That’s a hell of a spin you’re trying to put on premeditated homicide. You can call it whatever you want—it’s still fundamentally wrong, and it’s illegal as all hell. I’m not going to stop trying to find you and make you answer for what you’ve done.
Game Master: You have quite the bleeding heart for a woman basing her life around technology. I operate in the gray areas—as I suspect you do, from time to time. Why draw arbitrary lines? Embrace the shades of possibility.
RMF: You aren’t operating in any gray area. You’ve crossed a definite line into criminal territory. I use technology to help people, to save them from monsters like you. That’s the difference between us. You don’t get to pretend your actions aren’t black and white, evil.
Game Master: Strong words from someone powerless to stop me. Are you sure you want to keep pursuing this, Roseline? I’m offering you the chance to utilize your skills for a greater purpose. But if you insist on this tiresome path of resistance, I may be forced to take… corrective measures.
RMF: Is that a threat? Because I don’t take kindly to bullies in cyberspace or the real world. I won’t be intimated or swayed from bringing you to justice. Keep hiding behind your “Game Master” facade, but we both know you’re just a pathetic little man desperate for control. I’m not afraid of you.
Game Master: Very well, if you are determined to do this the hard way, I won’t stand in your path—for now. But know that I am always watching your progress. Attempt to interfere with my enterprises again and things may take a tragic turn. This is not a game you want to lose. Choose wisely. Goodbye, Roseline.
The chat screen blinked out abruptly, replaced by her normal operating systems.
Roseline was left staring into the empty glow of the monitors, feeling fury churning beneath her calm exterior. How dare this monster invade her system and threaten her? If he thought intimidation would make her back down, he did not know her at all. She would work twice as hard now to unravel his digital web of crime and tear him down.
A knock at the door jolted her from her anger-fueled contemplation. She whirled to see Callan standing in the doorway, concern etched on his handsome features. “Everything okay? You’re here late again. I saw your light still on.” He stilled and approached her like a frightened animal. “Hey, hey, it’s just me. No judgments here. But I can tell something’s spooked you. What is it?”
His piercing blue eyes radiated empathy. Unable to find the words yet, Roseline gave a short nod. Callan brushed a loose strand of hair behind her ear, the tender gesture surging warmth through her veins. At that moment, she needed his caring strength more than propriety.
Nobody else seemed to be around.
Standing on her toes, she wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed her lips eagerly to his. Callan recovered from his surprise, wrapping Roseline in a fierce embrace as he returned her ardent kiss. For long moments, they clung together, the contact chasing away the darkness that had invaded Roseline’s sanctuary.
Finally needing air, they broke apart, both flushed and breathless. Callan caressed her cheek with a worried look. “Are you okay? What happened? And what happened to professionals at work?”
Biting her lip, Roseline gave him a long look, the terror of her encounter with the Game Master still lingering. Callan’s piercing blue eyes softened with empathy. “Come on, let’s get out of here. I’ll walk you home, then we can talk.” His strong but caring presence won out over her reticence. Roseline knew she was safe opening up to this man.
She gathered her things, then let Callan guide her out into the night with a steady hand at the small of her back.
After parking her car nearby, they walked side-by-side, moving through the empty streets toward Roseline’s apartment. Callan had never been to her personal space before. Yet when they entered the cozy one-bedroom, he made himself at home with an ease that she found endearing. His presence comforted her.
While Roseline changed into leggings and an oversized sweater, washing the office tension from her face, he went straight into the kitchen. Soon, the fresh aroma of chamomile tea filled the air.
Curls freed from her ponytail, Roseline curled up on her couch and accepted the steaming mug he offered. She studied Callan over the rim, marveling at how naturally he cared for her. The tea’s warmth seeped into her palms, calming her further, and he took a seat on the couch beside her.
Haltingly at first, then with increasing fluidity, she described the entire chilling interaction with the Game Master. Callan listened, asking thoughtful questions without judgment, just support. His handsome face was creased with concern for her well-being. It touched her.
When she finished recounting everything, Callan rested his arm across her shoulders and pulled her close. “I’m sorry you had to deal with that creep invading your space. But I swear to you, we’re going to get him. He must be getting nervous, and he made a mistake tipping his hand tonight. We’ll use it against him.”
Roseline nodded into his shoulder, allowing herself a moment of vulnerability in the sanctuary of his arms. She inhaled the scent of his cologne, letting it ground her. The events of the evening had left her rattled, try as she might to appear unfazed. She despised feeling weak, but with Callan, she felt safe enough to lower her guard.
She had come to rely on his stalwart presence amid the storms of this case. Though wary of him as the new transfer from out of town, Roseline now trusted Callan completely. With his arm encircling her, she believed they might just weather this storm together and emerge stronger. He had become her port in the churning seas.
Drawing back, she met his soulful blue eyes, resolve renewed. “You’re right. I’ll scour my logs for any trace he left behind. We turn this attempted intimidation around on him.”
Callan gave her a tender smile that warmed her heart. He brushed a stray curl behind her ear. “That’s my girl. We’ve got this.”
