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Conspiracy by Mol
The story of a boy that discovers that his web site has more truth to it that meets the eye.
Anthony was what some would call a geek. He always fooled around at his computer, checking the internet for the release dates of the newest movies or keeping his web site up to date. Anthony was a god on the net. Rem Com, the name of his web site, was one of the most popular sites on the web, and Anthony got so much money from it that he could live life pretty well without ever having to get a real job. Anthony was much different in reality... in reality, Anthony was nothing. He never left his house. He was nineteen years old and very obese. Anthony had so much trouble leaving his computer chair to go to bed.
Anthony had graduated from Sigun High School a year ago, and he still lived with his parents. Gregory and Catherine Devough, his parents, never tried to get the boy outside. They never even tried to get Anthony on a diet. They gave up all hope in their son, and for this reason Anthony gave up hope in them, and his self esteem had dropped very low.
Anthony fought back tears with his hard work he put into Rem Com. He stared Message Boards and Chat Rooms, and the people he wrote to respected him. But they didn’t know the real Anthony, and all the respect went to Anthony’s head.
Anthony decided that he wanted to be a hacker. There was no risk in running a web site, and Anthony wanted action. He wanted to do something new and dangerous.
On June 3rd or 2003, Anthony attempted to break into one of the most elaborate computer networks ever created.... Area 51. But Anthony wasn’t a very good hacker. After about his fifteenth try to break into Area 51’s database a message appeared on Anthony’s screen:
You are a very bad hacker, Mr. Devough...
This surprised Anthony. How could they know that he was trying to hack into their files? How in the world was it possible for them to know that he was the exact person in front of this computer screen? Then Anthony’s mind began to race. It must have meant his father. Anthony began to panic. What would he do if the police came to his house and arrested his father because of something Anthony did?
The message on Anthony’s screen disappeared, as a new message was being typed:
Don’t worry about your father, Mr. Devough. It’s not him that we want. It’s you...
Anthony jumped out of his chair and stared at the computer in horror. His belly shook and jiggled for about two minutes from the sudden jump Anthony had omitted. This couldn’t be possible, Anthony thought. How in the world could a computer know exactly what he was thinking. It was absurd.
Anthony pushed the POWER button on his computer and turned it off. He couldn’t take it anymore. Anthony sat back down, and shook his head in disbelief.
All of a sudden the computer clicked back on and a new message appeared:
Believe it, Anthony James Devough! We know where you live an we are coming for you...
Anthony punched his computer and the glass shattered all over the keyboard. How in the hell, Anthony thought. There was no way that any of this could be possible. He had to be dreaming, right?
Anthony got out of his computer chair and left the room, walking down the hall of this house to the bathroom. His hand was bleeding and had shards of glass stuck inside of it. Anthony had got so worked up that he had broke the computer screen with his bare hand. Anthony walked over to the bathroom sink, and turned the water on. Something else was wrong. Anthony could feel it in the depths of his heart. He felt like screaming for his parents, but they were gone. They went out for a night on the town, so Anthony was all alone.
Just then, Anthony’s phone rang. He looked at his Caller ID and saw that it was his aunt from Chicago. He picked up.
“Hi, Aunt Evelyn,” Anthony said into the phone, but the response he got back wasn’t from his aunt.
“Is this Mr. Devough? Mr. Anthony Devough?” the voice said very coldly.
Anthony felt sweat drip off his nose, “Yes. Who is this?” Anthony began to tremble.
“My name is... Kar,” the voice paused. “Now listen carefully, everything I’m about to tell you is very important, and I don’t know if I have a lot of time. Are you still listening?”
“Yes,” Anthony wept into the phone.
“Area 51 has had agents watching your house for the past three months. They are everywhere. Your web site, Rem Com, has a lot of truth to it’s fiction, and Area 51 knows that. Those Remnants books you’ve been reading and basing your site on are not fiction. They are merely text from the future remitted into the past. They are not meant to be in this time.”
“The Remnants books are real. They tell the story of a distant future. They’ve been sent back in time by an old man that goes by the name of Jobs. He sent his stories to a Karen Applegate, who turned in the stories as if they were her own. Anthony, you were chosen by Jobs himself. You were chosen to warn the world of the asteroid. You...”
The voice on the line was cut, and only the sound of a dial tone could be heard. Then Anthony realized what was happening. His phone lines had been cut. The agents had surrounded his house. They were coming for him.
Anthony immediately ran back to his computer room, and locked the door. He flicked on his computer, and sparks admitted from where the shattered screen was. When the computer was on and fully operational, Anthony went into his e-mail and composed an outgoing e-mail to everyone that visited his site and to NASA itself.
He wrote a message as quick as he could, before he heard his front door being kicked down, and footsteps throughout his house. The doorknob of the computer room wiggled a bit. Anthony hit sent, and turned around.
A man busted his door down and entered. The man raised a gun to Anthony’s head, then spoke into his earphones.
“I’ve got Mr. Devough. I’m on the second floor of the house,” the man said.
“Are you going to kill me?” Anthony asked. He could feel his heart beating harder and harder.
“Yes...” the man whispered.
Anthony jumped out of his chair with the most shocked face you‘d ever seen, and fell to the ground. He wiggled for a few seconds, then stopped. Anthony Devough was dead.
“The suspect is dead. Massive heart attack I presume,” the man said into his earphones.
Faintly a voice a could be heard on the man’s earphones, “Was it sent?”
The man walked over to the computer screen, and the screen flashed:
The man shot the computer with rage, and answered, “Yes.”
The voice on the earphones replied but it couldn’t be heard.
“Who’s our next target? Which site will we diminish next?”
The voice answered very lightly, but this time it could be heard. The next target was a boy that called himself... Mol.