#ThursThreads Week 287 : I’ll Say It Out Loud

Since Harry kept cropping up, I decided to pay the good old boy a visit, and learn more about him. Finding him was simple enough, given I had his communications records with Pastor Greg, and Tiffany.

Harry lived in a dump of a house. A shack, falling apart, really. Around 18 miles northeast of the town. It was an interesting neighborhood, filled with mostly unemployed white families, and lots of angry men. I found it fascinating how they gathered into little groups at night, long after their families had gone to bed, and drank beer, and smoked, and talked endlessly about taking back the country that was stolen from them. The land of their fathers.

Harry got back from one of those gatherings that evening, and hopped on his smart phone. Of course, Harry didn’t know how to update his phone, or secure it, so I ran an attack program, and took over all its functions. Harry couldn’t do anything without me knowing it.

What I learned was Harry was well respected in the local segment of Crew 38. Which didn’t surprise me. “Harry. I’ll say it out loud. You’re a racist.” I spent the next hour wading through his phones memory, learning about gun deals he’d brokered, and his own, private stockpile of modified AR-15s, and several thousand rounds of ammo for them.

“Oh, Harry. You’re such a friendly guy.” I knew exactly what to do. “You’re going to have an entertaining day tomorrow. You wait. You’ll see.”

247 Words

I finally got around to writing part 15 of the Armor 17 story I started way back in Week 239 of #ThursThreads. I really should write more. It’s Week 287 of #ThursThreads, hosted by Siobhan Muir. Please go read all the entries in this week’s #ThursThreads. They are always fun to read.


Because. I Am The Violence.

They tell me violence isn’t the answer.
Violence only breeds violence.
In a never ending cycle.
That grows worse.

I can’t argue with that.
Wouldn’t dream of arguing with that.
And I wish I didn’t need violence.
I wish no one needed violence.

But that’s not how this world works.
And you know it.
Even your religions know it.
“There is a time to kill.”
“There is a time for war.”

Don’t speak to me of violence
And how it’s not the answer.
How it does nothing.
Cures nothing.
Fixes nothing.

See that man?
The one found dead last night.
Shot in the head.
He’s dead, dead, dead.

I shot him.

Serial rapist.
Over 30 women.
Some of them children.
And no one stopped him.
Many praised him.
A strong voice for good.
He helped feed the poor.
And house the homeless.
Donated time and money to charities.
Even helped build houses
For Habitat For Humanity.

Did I do the right thing?
Should I have shot him?

What would you say
If he’d raped your daughter?

Now, over 30 women know.
He won’t do that again.
To anyone.

Remember that guy who got six months probation
For pulling the college girl behind a dumpster.
And banging her?

Were you one of those who screamed,
“It was a bad decision on his part!
He made a mistake!
Don’t ruin his future for one mistake!
It’s not like he murdered her!”

I shot him too.
He’s still alive.
But he’ll never rape another girl.
I have good aim.

Do you wonder sometimes.
If the word spreads.
If the knowledge grows.
If there’s an understanding.
That if you do something like this.
You will pay for it.
You won’t be forgiven.
And you won’t walk away
Like nothing happened.
Do you wonder.
Would that reduce the violence?
Would that mean this happened less?

If someone thinks, for just a moment,
If I do this.
Someone will find me.
And shoot me in the head.
And I’ll be dead, dead, dead.

Will they be less likely
To rape someone?
To scar them for life?
To leave them changed forever?
Just to get their jollies?

If they know they’re going to die
Will they change their minds?

Don’t speak to me of violence.
And how it’s not the answer.

I know the truth.

You have to kill.
And that’s why I do
The violent things I do.

And I am the violence.
I am Armor 17.

#ThursThreads Week 282 : We’ll Have To See About That

What Pastor Greg couldn’t explain to his congregation turned up on social media Monday morning, after the church was torched. It was great fun to watch him react to the spread of his browsing history, in particular, his visits to the dark web. He started receiving phone calls at dawn, with his most stalwart supporter, Mrs. Simmons, asking if it was true that he regularly watched child pornography.

From there, the phone calls began to happen ever couple of minutes, until Pastor Greg gave up, and turned off his phone, and then logged out of his email accounts.

Around ten that morning, he did what I’d hoped for. He made a visit to a chat room on the dark web, where he started a conversation with a certain person named Harry. Of course, Harry told him not to worry, it would all be taken care of.

I found it interesting how he visited the same Harry visited by Tiffany. I thoroughly enjoyed Harry’s last words to Pastor Greg, “Go visit the page. You know where. It will help you relax.” The page was a live feed of grown men sexually assaulting young girls.

“We’ll have to see about that, Harry,” I made certain to echo Pastor Greg’s video selection to every social media network. It made quite a splash.

219 Words

I finally got around to writing part 14 of the Armor 17 story I started way back in Week 239 of #ThursThreads. I really should write more. It’s Week 282 of #ThursThreads, hosted by Siobhan Muir. Please go read all the entries in this week’s #ThursThreads. They are always fun to read.

#ThursThreads Week 277 : Nothing Is What It Says It Is

Having caused sufficient chaos where Michelle once worked, it was time to spread the chaos to the rest of her social world. Starting with the church she’d once been a member of. A church that had disowned her.

Churches always have leaders. These are usually called pastors. This one was no different. The pastor’s name was Greg Bishop. It was most entertaining to listen to his prayers to God for several nights. “Thank you, God, for removing that vile, evil demon from our presence, and protecting the good people of this world.” Of course, the other half of his prayers were just as entertaining, “Please, God. Find the foul, vile spawn of Satan that is blowing up cars, and ruining people’s lives, and bring that demon to your justice.”

Ah. Christians. So predictable. Most of them, anyway.

Of course, Pastor Greg wasn’t happy at all when his prayers started showing up on social media. Word for word, thanking God for murder, and asking God to stop vengeance. Pastor Greg had a bit of explaining to do on that Sunday morning, when people at his church started asking why he thanked God for someone’s murder. Although they did kind of understand, since Michelle had been, obviously, a vile, evil person.

Of course, I’m certain Pastor Greg had much more difficulty explaining why the church burned to the ground that Sunday night. “Nothing is what it says it is, Pastor. Like how you’re not a man of God.”

246 Words

I finally got around to writing part 13 of the Armor 17 story I started in Week 239 of #ThursThreads. I really should write more. It’s Week 277 of #ThursThreads, hosted by Siobhan Muir. Please go read all the entries in this week’s #ThursThreads. They are always fun to read.

#ThursThreads Week 271 : You’re Not Needed In This

Being invisible, silent, and having no heat signature makes it simple to watch chaos break out, as it did when Freddy, the IT guy arrived at work. It started as a normal day. Freddy dropped everything on his desk, made his run to the men’s room, and fetched his cup of coffee.

And that’s when normal ended. He sat down at his desk, and turned on his computer, and nothing happened. It didn’t turn on. “What?” He checked the power connections, but they were good. He checked and the fans were blowing air through the unit, so it was getting power.

He turned it off, counted to 10, and turned it back on. It booted up, but it loaded a bright red screen, with big yellow letters, “This machine has been encrypted, using a 4096 bit key. The key has been destroyed. Bye-Bye…”

Freddy’s phone started ringing endlessly. Every computer in the office had that same message on it. Freddy tried booting a different system from a flash drive, but the computer encrypted the drive’s contents. He tried restoring a backup from an external drive, but the computer encrypted that too.

I laughed, “It’s the BIOS, Freddy. On every motherboard.”

By the time Freddy realized what had happened, he’d been fired. “You’re not needed in this. Clearly, you couldn’t stop it. We need someone else.”

Freddy got drunk then tried to drive home. The wreck made the news the next morning, and I sighed, “Some people shouldn’t drink.”

246 Words

This is part 12 of the Armor 17 story I started in Week 239 of #ThursThreads. It’s Week 271 of #ThursThreads, hosted by Siobhan Muir. Please go read all the entries in this week’s #ThursThreads. They are always fun to read.

#ThursThreads Week 270 : You’re Too Sick To Play

That night, I visited what had been Michelle’s workplace once more. It was time to gather more information, this time from the director of the Information Technology department. I’d noticed the workstation Michelle used always seemed to be broken. It was time to learn why.

A quick scan of the computer storage media showed frequent changes to the computer’s configuration at strange hours, especially when she was at lunch, or right after she’d left for the day. Further investigation demonstrated the computer configuration was hacked during those times. Someone had made it so Michelle’s computer would fail. Frequently. Resulting in far too many problems.

That someone turned out to be the IT director. A check of his computer verified the repeating, endless problems Michelle had. Since I was awake anyway, I visited his home, and checked his computers, which provided endless evidence of his hatred of Michelle, and his efforts to get her fired. The man had a treasure trove of things to do to mess up someone’s computer.

“Little man. You’re too sick to play such games.” Hacked, broken computers. Armors knew how to do that better than anyone. “Hope you can find another job, little man. You and your sick mind.” I knew exactly what to do. I headed back to the workplace, to perform a bit of magic on workstations and servers throughout the company. “You’re going to need a drink tomorrow night.”

It was time to have some fun.

244 Words

This is part 11 of the Armor 17 story I started in Week 239 of #ThursThreads. It’s Week 270 of #ThursThreads, hosted by Siobhan Muir. Please go read all the entries in this week’s #ThursThreads. They are always fun to read.

#ThursThreads Week 268: I Don’t Know What You’re Talking About

As Tiffany sat on her front doorstep, watching the fire department extinguish the smoldering remains of her car, listening to her neighbors tell her how lucky she was not to have blown up with it, one of her phone calls to Harry went viral on social media. It was played over, and over again, millions of times.

As her neighbors asked who would do such a horrible thing to her, blowing up her car, the world watched Tiffany strip naked, one article of clothing at a time, as she begged Harry to take care of the Michelle problem. They watched as Tiffany proposed a meeting with Harry, where he could explore the real model, and not a video. “If you help with my problem, I’ll give you anything you ask.”

As the police spoke with her, and informed her they’d find the culprit behind these car bombings, countless men decided her naked ass made a good wallpaper for their smart phones. The perfect break from a bad day at work.

As Tiffany sat in her home that day, in shock that her life had not turned out at all like she wanted, the FBI filed warrants for her arrest, and posted a bulletin for the capture of Harry.

When federal agents appeared on her doorstep the next morning, Tiffany’s only response to their questions was, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Even after they showed her the viral video.

And I knew. This was just getting started.

248 Words

This is part 10 of the Armor 17 story I started in Week 239 of #ThursThreads. It’s Week 268 of #ThursThreads, hosted by Siobhan Muir. Please go read all the entries in this week’s #ThursThreads. They are always fun to read.