Damnation Code (William Massa) - William Massa Page 0,30
arts.
When he launched his first app a year later, he embedded occult code designed to persuade potential buyers to download it. The apps incredible success secured the financial foundation on which Omicron could be built.
With Zagan’s rise to power, the programs grew more elaborate and complex. The years of experimentation had all led up to his latest brainchild — an occult reality-hacking program so grand and visionary it would put all his past efforts to shame. This latest code would assure Omicron’s continued rise in the marketplace and allow him to crush his enemies.
Only a couple more sacrifices would be needed before his masterpiece was complete. Soon he would gain the ability to manipulate the physical world in ways his earlier self wouldn’t dare to imagine.
But first this new problem would have to be dealt with. He’d worked too hard to let one tiny setback faze him. Whoever had killed his men would soon be experiencing the full power of Omicron’s occult algorithm. The next stage of the plan was only hours away. Why not use the opportunity to draw out the enemy? As he sent out a series of texts to his followers, he made sure to include the cultists killed by the masked man.
Zagan was about to leave the auditorium when he experienced a sudden, sharp itch on his forearm. The binary tattoo had been strangely irritated for days now. He scratched the inked flesh and this time his nails came up red with blood. But it wasn’t the sight of red that made his eyes light up. Under the bloody skin, rods of gray steel had replaced bone and muscle tissue.
Initial horror turned to dark wonder. He’d instructed the program to make him physically stronger, and the program was finding a way. Hacking reality. Changing him. Reshaping him into a creature as powerful as the cyborg from the future that had fired his imagination all those years earlier.
CHAPTER TWELVE
DETECTIVE JESSICA SERRONE blinked and shielded her eyes against the blinding sunlight as she walked up to the eco-house. Two uniformed officers stood guard at the front entrance. They exchanged quick greetings and stepped aside, granting her access. She didn’t have to flash her badge, as the men recognized her.
Serrone wasn’t someone you easily forgot. A German-Mexican heritage had given her both height and striking, exotic looks. Well-defined Aztec features projected a regal quality. Some of the less politically correct officers had started calling her Pocahontas behind her back. Serrone didn’t mind. There were worse things than being nicknamed after a hot Disney princess.
Once inside the house, she approached the first body and tried not to disturb the team of forensics guys hard at work. Serrone spotted a knife next to the corpse. The dead man must’ve dropped it a second after his neck was snapped.
Another detective sidled up to her. With his ruddy features, Detective Nathan Grell formed a sharp contrast to Serrone’s caramel complexion. “Girlfriend of one of the stiffs called it in. Says he’d been acting a bit weird as of late. When she didn’t hear from him last night, she got scared and let herself in. Two more guys upstairs. Hope you didn’t have your breakfast yet. It gets gory once you reach the living room.”
“Thanks for the heads up.”
Detective Serrone kneeled before the body. Longish hair and a goatee hid most of the dead man’s acne scars. His wide-eyed stare seemed to follow her as she examined the body. She caught a glimpse of black ink on the victim’s forearm – a series of ones and zeroes. She pulled back the sleeve and inspected the full sequence. By now she was familiar with the binary number. It had become the signature for these occult attacks. The only time she’d seen it outside of a crime scene was when they fished the three suicides out of the Bay.
The popular theory going around suggested that the tech workers had engaged in a murder-suicide pact. But now there were three more bodies. She somehow doubted this cult members had broken his own neck.
Serrone shifted her gaze to the latex robot mask. Talk about the perfect accessory for a murderous sci-fi cult. She made a quick mental note to track down suppliers that sold the masks in question.
“I guess Halloween came early this year. Think they got the three-for-one special?” Grell said.
Serrone didn’t smile. This case was becoming more out there with each passing day. The cult theory had been initially met with skepticism. Serial killers were part