Page 98 of White Noise

Silas lowers his hand slowly, his eyes narrowing into slits of violet static. “No?”

“I’m done giving you free information.”

His head tilts, a bird-like, unnatural movement.

I rub my palms down the sides of my thighs, trying to scrub away the feeling of his current, though the nervous energy is still buzzing beneath my skin. “That’s what you’ve been doing, isn’t it? Watching what happens every time you push. Testing the limits of the hardware.”

He says nothing.

The silence is heavy, oppressive, filled with the distant hiss of a dead channel.

Which is answer enough.

I think back over the last few days while he stands in front of me, solid enough now that the low current coming off him seems to fill the whole room.

Fear helped him cross.

Anger gave him something to push against.

Every test taught him more about how my body reacts, and once it started recognizing his frequency without him even touching me, he watched like he had finally found the answer to something.

That is what I have been missing.

Every reaction gives him information.

If I run, he learns what makes me run.

If I fight, he learns how far he can push, and if my body responds to the current, he learns exactly how to use it next time.

I have spent so much time trying to stop him that I never bothered asking the question that actually matters.

How the fuck does he work?

My gaze shifts toward the monitor behind him, the screen flickering with distorted images.

Then the speaker, humming with that constant, oppressive drone. Then the camera, the unblinking eye that sees everything.

Silas follows the movement of my eyes, his expression darkening.

He knows I’m looking for the wires. He knows I’m looking for the source.

“What are you thinking, little echo?” he asks, and the possessiveness in his voice is a threat. It’s the tone of a master who has noticed his dog is looking at the leash.

I look back at him, my heart racing. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

His expression darkens with a sadistic amusement, the air around him beginning to crackle with violent energy. “You think you’ve figured something out. You think you’ve found a glitch in the system.”

He steps forward again, his voice dropping to a menacing, guttural crawl. “You forget that I am the system. And you are just a piece of equipment I haven't finished breaking yet.”

“No. That’s the problem.”

I move around him and switch off the camera.

The ring light dies, then the monitor, plunging the room into a suffocating dimness, lit only by the solitary lamp on the opposite nightstand.

The shadows stretch, clinging to the corners of the room like something alive.

“I don’t know shit.”