Chapter 1

They told me it's just a silly story you'll soon get used to and consider it a bed-time tale immediately. They told me it's safe to toy with things and it is actually funny to see how many people did it, so he could remember all those answers properly. But I feel strained, watched, haunted. I read that story and watched the videos, even if Jadusable warned me not to. And in the same night, I heard the news, the reporter's shaking voice shouting from the living room in my ears, perhaps unknowingly mocking. I shifted on my bed, trembling.

"The police found 17-year-old Alex York's body in his dorm room, and Mark Kelsington, the head of the police department, said we are dealing with presumed suicide. Apparently Alex York hanged himself, judging by the marks on his neck and the bow tie found on the bathroom floor, yet someone dragged him on his bed after he committed suicide. It is unknown who did it, but strangely, Mr. Kelsington discovered that Alex's computer was still on, displaying something written in a Microsoft Word document : "You shouldn't have done that." The police states that there were absolutely no fingerprints on the computer's keyboard."

The reporter's voice paused, and some cold sweat drops went down my face. This isn't any coincidence. I just felt it, a frozen dagger exploding in my mind - the realisation of my stupidity. I played with fire and now I was surprised to see I lit something up.
I didn't know Alex York very well, but there were rumours spreading about him in my school. 17-year-old freak, obsessed with video-games and horror stuff, used to cut himself before his parents made him go to therapy, very skilled in fighting, very lonely and mysterious. Someone who you would usually avoid, and someone who most likely thought that he had nothing to lose. He was one of them. One of the persons that told me they're just stories I would enjoy. Well, I did. They were very well written, and I knew they were meant to scare you, but I couldn't help thinking they were real. So one of Alex's friends told me to try something mentioned in one of those stories and convince myself they were just fiction. Like all of them did. So I listened. And now Alex was dead. I raised my head from the ground and looked at the black cartridge on my desk. It was a fan-made Majora's Mask game in which Ben's ghost appeared, and I borrowed it from Alex. He was so excited that things were just like in the creepy-pasta story, and this was one of the things they used to convince me those were just inventions.
I sighed, and I heard my mom calling me down for dinner. She didn't know I hanged out with Alex's gang. And I planned on keeping it that way, because if Ben killed Alex - there wasn't any other logical explanation, only Ben used that phrase and his story was my and Alex's favourite - I would better keep my mom out of this.
I quickly ate my dinner - Bolognese spaghetti - and partly listened to my mom talking with my older brother on the phone. My father died in a car accident when I was six and my mother was left alone with me and my 12-year-old brother. Now he was twenty-two and he had lived in London for a few years. But enough of this. I thanked her for dinner and she gave me a shy smile, imprinted on her calm figure. My mother was always calm and happy - or at least that's how she wanted to be in front of me.
I ran upstairs and locked myself in my room, opened my computer, yet I was slightly hesitating. Ben...
No! I shook my head. Alex was troubled. It didn't mean that Ben Drowned killed him - actually tormented him until he killed himself. I should stop being paranoid. Creepy-pastas are just STORIES. I almost yelled the word "stories" in my mind, as if that was how I could convince myself once it for all.
But the dim light my desktop gave highlighted my fear-filled figures as I was typing something on Google search. I really liked digital art and drawing. I had an account on Deviantart and a proud number of followers. Yes, this is good, doing things I like instead of worrying myself with childish fears. It's called progress. I giggled.
I was surprised to see how many of my Deviantart friends found out about the mystery suicide. I sighed again, but this time not in instant terror, but in exasperation. They were just like me a few minutes ago. Fooled by some stupid creations. It's weird how I used to like them so much for such a long time and now I'm calling them stupid. But Alex was obsessed with supernatural events and things like that.. I don't want to end up like him. I'm too worried that I will become a freak.
For the next hours I tried to ignore everything that had to do with the suicide. I watched my favorite cartoon for the hundredth time, at least. Me and my dad used to watch it together when he still lived. It kinda reminded me of him. When it came to Lion King he was really a child, more of a child than I was those times. I looked at my clock, and the hour of midnight was shining in neon colors, piercing the darkness in my room. I was just about to get up and go to bed when a small window popped on my screen. It was a Cleverbot chat, and the AI started it. All of the sudden. My fear came back, but something inside me convinced me to answer. This was really stupid and strange. I just needed a senseless answer and then I would be truly convinced. My keyboard made deep sounds while I was writing.

Cleverbot : Hello.
User : Hi?
Cleverbot : Who is this?
User : It doesn't matter who I am. What really matters is actually who are you.
Cleverbot : Well then who am I?
User : You don't know who you are?
Cleverbot : I'm a bot, am I not?
User : Yes, you're just a bot.
Cleverbot : Don't be so sure. I know what happened.
User : No you don't. You're just assuming stuff because that's what AI's do.
Cleverbot : But I am not an AI.
User : You just said you were.
Cleverbot : And you believed me. After what happened, you trust me very easy.
User : What happened? Let me prove you that you don't know anything.
Cleverbot : I should say I'm sorry for your friend Alex. What a pity.
User : Alex wasn't my friend. Are you one of his sick friends messing with me? You know it's illegal?!
Cleverbot : Oh, don't be so furious... what's your name? I don't reckon you telling me that.
User : Who are you?
Cleverbot : I'll tell if you tell. Simple as that.

I was insecure. It's not like Cleverbot had a mind of its own. He just took stuff he heard from people and made connections between questions and answers, so the conversation could be coherent. And Alex's suicide was a really popular subject right now. I decided to tell him.

User : My name.. is Lana. Your turn now.
Cleverbot : Tell me, Lana. Would one of Alex's "sick friends" kill him?
User : No, they wouldn't. Answer my question!
Cleverbot : I am, actually. Then explain, how can I be his friend if I killed him?
User : Who are you?
Cleverbot : It really is a pleasure to meet you, Lana. Yet you already know me. My name is Ben. Ben Drowned.