Emuxe — Roleplayer Guild

Emily hadn't even gone to bed to warrant waking up in the morning. Her room was dark, the only light in the room being emitted from her dimly-lit computer screen. If it weren't for the clock in the bottom right of the screen, Emily wouldn't ever be able to keep track of what time or day it was.

Emily had spent all night browsing through the deep-web - she knew she shouldn't, but it just intrigued her; she never posted anything, but she always found herself scrolling through pages and pages built by the minds of the "messed up" people that actually had accounts.

A window popped up on her screen, much like the administrative prompt window one would use as a last resort when their computer was misbehaving. And then, text slowly began to appear on the black screen: Someone was writing in her command screen.

Help me.

Emily tried hard to close the window, scared that someone was hacking into her system, but the window wouldn't close. She checked her system folder, looking for anything out of the ordinary - but nothing had even been touched. The mystery person in her computer seemed innocent enough, what could come of writing to someone that had remoted themselves into her computer?

"A lot of things!" she exclaimed, throwing her arms over her face in frustration, "you've seen what kind of people lurk in here!" 

Then again, they hadn't done anything to her so far... "Oh, what the hell," Emily said as she moved her mouse back to the unclosable screen.

What's wrong? What can I do to help?
Thank you.

The stranger said nothing more, and the window closed before Emily could press the stranger further.

Hannah awoke on her own, groaning as she buried her face against the arm of the life-sized teddybear that she slept with. She didn't know what time it was, but it was early enough that she couldn't hear any sign that anybody else in the house was stirring awake. Eventually, she rolled over, extending her arm and blindly felt for her phone that sat on her nightstand.

The brightness on her phone nearly blinded her tired eyes when she lit the screen up to check the time. Strangely enough, she had a notification that someone had texted her. "That's weird," she muttered as she sat up, unplugging her phone. No-one ever texted her - the only people who spoke to her used Facebook.

The young women unlocked her phone, curious to the text she received: It was an unknown number, and it simply read "help me." Hannah raised a brow at the message, hesitating for a minute as she wondered if she actually should bother responding. Maybe it was a wrong number? She didn't know exactly why she responded, perhaps her curiosity got the better of her:

Who is this?

Hannah didn't expect a reply, but to her shock, the reply was instantaneous.

Someone who needs your help.

Help with what?
If I told you, you wouldn't believe me.

You're just going to have to trust me.

Hannah hesitated again. 

... This isn't going to get me into trouble, is it?
You'll be fine.

Hannah stared at her phone for a while, her eyes fixated on the message. Whoever was messaging her was awfully vague, but it did peak her curiosity. She was probably going to regret this later.

Fine, what do you need?
Thank you.

Hannah's phone glitched and reset itself, all traces of the mysterious messages erased from her own. Great, she thought to herself, I was talking to a glitch.
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