Chapter Thirty-Eight

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Just as my personal little soap opera was getting interesting, little Jacky's phone just had to die.

I normally didn't pay much mind to the uninteresting lives that proxies and associates lead, though ever since the little vixen (Name) had come into the picture,  I had more than enough reason to listen in once and a while.

The thought of fraternizing with a silly little human hadn't intrigued me half as much as it had entertained Tim, Jack, Jeff, and even Toby. What they saw in her I'd never know, but what they had said to her and about her I was more than in the loop on.

I hadn't possessed the skill set required to become a proxy, or even an associate, but a place was found for me nonetheless due to my unique abilities that the Operator was just not willing to pass up.

Even after my death all those years ago, the vengeance my soul sought after couldn't be drowned out as easily as I had been. Though, I suppose I had just been but a boy back then.

Malevolent spirit, vengeful in nature, manipulative and cunning. At least, that's what Wikipedia had to say about me. Though it was quite flattering to think that the internet thought so highly of me, I was much, much worse.

No thought spoken aloud was safe, no microphone ever really off, no camera ever not recording, even if by all appearances, it wasn't.

Not that the associates or proxies ever really remembered that; they weren't really a group of people that would ever think to hold their tongues, anyway.

But even I hadn't accounted for how far they'd let their little game with the girl go. Nothing had ever gone that far before, and I was nearly sure that nothing would go that far again.

There was no way that (Name) had become so close to a select few unless the Operator himself was directly allowing it, which raised even more questions than it silenced.

We weren't meant to question his motives, sure, but we also weren't meant to be indulging in harmful emotions.

Why train them to kill so heartlessly, just to allow them to revert back to their pre-conditioned states? Her ability to hold onto her humanity in the arms of someone like Jack was definitely resilient, but it was also dumb.

She didn't know what he knew. She knew he was smart, I could tell that much just by listening in through Jack's phone when the two would speak; she was cautious, meticulously planning her words in a way that wouldn't anger him, but in a way that would also get him to answer honestly. Granted, she may have been smart, but she just didn't know Jack long enough to really know Jack.

He rarely asked a question he didn't know the answer to, and he never made a move unless he had already planned it. He would make his thoughts and movements seem so unpredictable; it was a rather perfected art of manipulation.

He had learned a tactic or few from each and every one of the proxies and associates, slowly morphing what he had learned into his very own brand of twisted. Though, back when I had taught him to plan every detail, account for every syllable that left his mouth, and to never contradict himself, I would have never guessed how good he would eventually become at it.

(Name) was hoodwinked for sure. He spoke to her sweetly, encapsulating her in a false blanket of security, safety, and honesty. 

Perhaps the most confusing part was that it wasn't due to his own gains, however. He lied to the girl to protect her. He made her feel safe because he knew she really wasn't; as long as she was beside him, she'd never truly be safe. I myself was a prime example of that; danger was lurking around every corner in these parts of the woods, even when you thought you were safe.

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