• She/Her

Writing account and stray thoughts. Posts may be undertagged.

Experience Metamorphosis. Embrace Purpose.


Clark Smith sighed in his private office. At least the role of Chief Paranormal Investigator was as comfy as his superior promised. Still, he wished for more companionship then this AI bucket of bolts. Maybe his office was on the border of dead-end cases and a whole lot of bullshit. He'd still appreciate another head to chat with. Or a pair of eyes to witness things with. Or at least have a fallman for when he had to get creative.

Oh well. The ridiculous chatbot will have take the blame. Throw the onus on some confusing algorithm- isn't that what everyone's doing nowadays?

"Computer, considering the evidence, what is the most likely reason for our victim's disappearance?"


The intercom chirped with annoying submissiveness "Considering the lack of body, leads, and their psychological profile, there is no conclusion that can be drawn."

Of course. He'd have to lead the computer.

"Computer. We must work within the realms of facts and logic. We know no one exited the apartment building. Assume we found their body in the apartment."

"Considering the items found within the apartment and the circumstances, if a body was found within the apartment, the most likely conclusion is a sudden bodily failure resulting in death."

Now this- this is within the realm of things he can work with. If only they didn't use this excuse for the last two cases.

"Computer, consider that the victim was more isolated and- lets say obsessed with their video games. Please note the victim's longstanding struggles with mental health."

"Considering all of that, I would attribute our victim's disappearance to a suicide."

Clark smiled. Maybe he dishonored the recently spirited away. But society had rules about what was considered acceptable truth. "Perfect. It'd be wise to use that conclusion. Begin the report review process. Create a redacted copy of our report for release."

It was just in time for his lunch anyway.

...

Clark returned to his office. He looked over his notes and the recovered bits of data from the victim's apartment. It was time for his final review. And to kiss all this inconvenient evidence goodbye.

He clicked a button on his desk. The windows darkened, and the door audibly locked.

"Computer, display the recreated events for situation beta on the projector. Maximize logical consistency. Use the records from the security camera, smart speaker, and recovered files."

The projector whirled up. The lights dimmed, and an image appeared on his whiteboard. One of those frumpy weeb women sat at her desk. Some girl shouted canned voice lines from her computer. The woman's hands jumped about while the girl onscreen warped around dizzyingly. It was like the AI recreation didn't know what to make of it all. Then the woman put on her headphones, and tilted her chair to hide her monitor.

Boring. But that was what he'd get by prioritizing consistency. He declared a new command.

"Computer, enter secure mode. Display the recreated events for situation beta using just evidence collected from the scene. Maximize viewability."

The magic words. For some reason, the AIs were more particular than the lawyers. But with the right phrase they moved mountains.

The projector whirled up again. The woman at her desk lied back in her chair. Then a bratty voice squeaked from her monitor.

"Alone on a Friday night?" The avatar on the simulated desktop craned her neck backwards, and made what could only be described as a very explicit gesture with two fingers and tongue. "Wanna do something a lil more than watching me wiggle my ass on your screen?"

The woman gasped audibly. Clark laughed to himself. He was seeing shit he wasn't supposed to see again, wasn't he? Whatever. A virtual lesbian cryptid was more explainable than demon summoning or cursed packages. And either way, he had to turn his brain off to watch this shit.

"Don't act so surprised- you already told me you have nowhere to be!" The little virtual woman in the monitor displayed on the projector stretched coyly "Just put on your headphones and listen to my instructions very carefully~ I've been getting lonely in here."

And from that moment forward nothing of note could be gleaned from the recreation. The woman puts on her headphones, and, in a funny twist of fate, adjusts her seat just enough to block the camera's view.

The AI stops the projector, somehow cognizant enough to realize the recreation has gone stale.

"Computer, delete this nonsense off the records." Clark relaxed into his desk chair. He flicked through the AI's virtual report on his own monitor. It was pure bullshit. But realistic and believable bullshit. Boring in all the right ways. Unlike his little firebrand predecessor, Clark understood exactly what this office was here for.

With a final flourish of his mouse, Clark smiled. "I approve the report, Computer"


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