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The Technician

The Technician.
The Ghost.
The Computer Whiz.
Those are a few names for him. He wanders soundlessly into someone's house at night, while they're away. When they arrive at the comfort of their household, they always find that an electrical object in the house, usually computers, is broken.
This is a sign that the Technician is in the house. And that is when the Technician gruesomely claims his victims, and leaves as undetectable as he was when he first entered the house.
That is why, on this night, we all fear going back into the place we call home. The Technician could sneak up on us like a deadly spider, and inject us with the poison he calls a knife.
If he strikes our house next, we may not have a chance. But on the bright side, our house is one in a neighborhood of thousands alike. And the last time he was seen, it was in a town about two miles away from here.
But we still take extra precautionary measures when we arrive home anyway, and that is exactly what we will do as I slowly maneuver the car into the cobblestone driveway.
My 15-year old daughter, who was just recently typing on her laptop, closes it as she realizes we're home. My wife and daughter exit the car, and I follow.
"Wait," I call out. "I should go first."
My wife nods, considering my comment. She too knows that if the Technician were to enter our home, the man of the house should be there to apprehend him.
I open the front door and examine the living room with its white walls, red patterned carpet, and lush furniture. I notice the PC in the corner. I turn on the light switch and walk over to the PC. After examining it a number of times, I decide there is nothing wrong with it.
I stride over to the wooden staircase and climb upstairs to the master bedroom, which has a laptop resting on an antique table in the corner. I walk anxiously around the king-sized bed and examine the laptop. Thankfully, it's functioning properly and the Technician hasn't done anything to prove he's in the house.
Lastly, I climb back down the stairs and down another flight of creaking stairs to the basement. My heart pounds in my ears as I turn on the dim light switch and I see the old Dell in the corner. I feel the sweat run down my pale forehead. If the Technician were to attack me, it would be here, in the cruel darkness of the basement.
I saunter around the primitive pool table that I haven't used in ages and slowly turn on the computer. I let out a sigh of relief. The computer isn't broken.
I stumble up the staircase and back into the living room. "You can come in! Everything is fine!" I shout with relief.
My family comes in, first my pale-faced daughter, then my beautiful wife. "Oh, thank God! I know the Technician hasn't been seen around here, but I think we still should be on the lookout! He's a vicious killer and whenever I hear of him I'm afraid to leave the house!"
"Yeah, he's quite the neighborhood pest," I say unsympathetically. "Do you think the police could--"
"Dad?"
I'm interrupted by my daughter's nervous cry from the dining room. I saunter around and walk into the room to find my daughter sitting at the wooden table we eat at every day, her pink laptop sitting in front of her.
My daughter speaks again, the color drained from her face, and all my worst fears are revealed.
"My laptop's broken."




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This article has 2 comments. Post your own!

kingofwritersThis teenager is a 'regular' and has contributed a lot of work, comments and/or forum posts, and has received many votes and high ratings over a long period of time. said...
Mar. 6, 2012 at 5:38 am:
Hey, if someone gave this story a bad rating, could you please tell me why?
 
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writerfreak21231This teenager is a 'regular' and has contributed a lot of work, comments and/or forum posts, and has received many votes and high ratings over a long period of time. said...
Jan. 14, 2012 at 4:02 pm:
Wow! This was great! Very spooky! Keep writing! :)(:
 
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