CHAPTER TWENTY SEVEN
Styx was hunting, in the territory he knew so well, deep in the cityscape of Bordercross. He was prowling, choosing his victims, and sending out his lures. He had code embedded deep in the system, hidden away, that allowed him to do what he did. An almost invisible and undetectable program which gave him the access he needed.
The draw of the game was addictive in itself. The thrill of the hunt, the knowledge that others were playing too. But Styx took it to a whole new level. He was addicted to what he did now. He knew it, and he didn’t care.
He was sure he could continue to do this for a long while now. Sure that he would not be found out.
He walked along the virtual streets that were so familiar to him. His territory, his world. He felt at home here. He knew how the city worked, knew its rhythms. And, of course, he could spot anyone new logging in.
Styx knew it was essential to get the information he needed as soon as possible. There was no time to waste in identifying his new suspects.
Staring into the colorful images of the street ahead, he identified a few new players signing in. And then, the responses he was waiting for, as they accepted the lures. Of course they did. All new players did—well, almost all.
His fingers tapped the keyboard, opening lures, the way he had done a thousand times before. His lures were embedded deep in the game code, and they were hard to find. Impossible, actually. Only he knew, and they worked perfectly.
He glanced at his program, monitoring the response. There were some suitable candidates, and that was good, because he wanted to feel that rush, he wanted the adrenaline to pump through his system.
He wanted the kill.
He took a look at the players who had responded. Here was an interesting one that caught his eye immediately. PaganPrincess. She was a colorful character.
He watched her move, he watched her walk, he watched the way she dressed. She had some very interesting visual traits about her.
She had a low-cut top but with a flirty, cute expression. She was wearing trendy clothing that stood out. He liked the look of her. She was the kind of woman he had hopes for. As he watched, her character brightened, and he felt a surge of satisfaction. She’d upgraded!
He could imagine her sitting in her office or her study, learning about this game, applying the knowledge she already had. Probably, she was an experienced player in other games. The way she moved and interacted showed him that.
He watched her for a little longer, then decided to follow her. She was an intriguing character. She was clearly out to make an impression.
Styx followed PaganPrincess through the streets of Bordercross, while comparing the avatar with the new information he had acquired on her.
He was glad she’d upgraded, very glad. Because it told him she was a Boston local. It was almost as if he’d sensed it.
She was really quite interesting, and he found himself wondering what she was doing, what she was thinking. What made her tick? What was her story?
He was still puzzling over her when she stopped at a café. He stopped, too, watching her from outside the window.
Staring at the image of PaganPrincess, he was almost overwhelmed with the urge to kill her. To meet her in the flesh, to creep up on her while she was engrossed in her digital, artificial world. To hear the gasp of horror as she realized he was there, no longer online but in reality, in her own environment.
It gave him such a primal joy to stalk these women.
He knew their worlds and their characters. He knew, at first, that the women had no idea that he knew them, that he was in their lives, and that he was in the shadows, watching and waiting.
He was good at moving unseen, at moving unseen in the real world, and this was an essential skill for his particular brand of hunting.
He scanned at PaganPrincess’s information to see what she looked like and what she had said about herself. It made him smile. A student. Looking into the information he now had about her, he saw she was a student at MIT.
But now he began to frown. An IT student? Perhaps he should be careful of those. In fact, maybe he should do more homework on her first. Especially since, in real life, she had that trendy, asymmetrical, dark hairstyle. And that reminded him of what he’d glimpsed from the camera he’d used outside his canary’s house.
It had only been a glimpse, but he wanted to think it over carefully and decide on the best course of action. While he did, he glanced at the program, checking if there was someone else who had responded to his lures. He was surprised to see that there was a new one.
This one, Spylove80, was blond, tall, and mysterious looking—in Bordercross, at least. He liked the name. It sparked his imagination. She looked new and was feeling her way around. That meant she had a lot to learn about the game, and that meant that she would have an extended period of play. That was what he needed. He wanted someone who became hooked, and who spent many hours in Bordercross. That gave him the chance to do what he had to do.
When he watched her online, Styx knew that he needed to get close to her.
He gazed at Spylove80’s information, while comparing it with her avatar. He smiled. He liked her.
He liked her a lot.