‘The TV Wasn’t Worth It’ by Sophie S
“Are you sure this is a good idea, Bucky?”
Christina’s hand tightened around her girlfriend’s, her breaths quick and nervous. They hadn’t explored this apartment complex yet, and for good reason. Compared to the 2 around it, it was practically just rotting wood, with holes in the grubby brick work that seemed dated to the 21st century. They weren’t supposed to be this far out of the capital; officials had sent public warnings about being outside the regulated zones, where chemical packets dotted the streets and not a dark, damp alleyway was in sight. But of course Rebecca had dragged ‘Tina to go searching for vintage tech. Sony Tvs were the in thing- they’d already gotten thousands for ones that weren’t melted metal in new-age infrastructure. And Tina could never say no to her puppy-dog face.
“It’s just a dive and duck again, hun! Exactly like the other two. It’s a goldmine around here. According to Google, this was a rich neighbourhood back in the day.” Her crooked smile was the same one that had shone when they’d sold the first 2 TVS a week ago (using an outdated, illegal Santander credit card). Christina bit her lip but nodded, letting herself be dragged inside.
What would’ve been the reception area, if the place followed the same layout as the other 2 buildings, was a ramshackle wreck, was what they’d crawled into through a gaping hole from the east. The carpet bent beneath their weight, from what might have been water damage, or even insects, based on the black shells speckling the wood peaking below the rot. If Christine hadn’t ducked, she would’ve hit her head on a foundation strewn across the room at a 45 degree angle. Rebecca, clearly more confident than she should’ve been at the musty air and shattered glass at the actual reception desk, stepped into the corridor. A corridor that should’ve had a fire-exit door, which was actually leaning on the wall a few meters away. The poster on it curled in on itself like a crippled old man, the fray more visible than the pigmentation. Tina didn’t have time to read it before she was being dragged forwards (curse her for choosing such a strong partner).
Second thoughts started rushing through her mind as she went down the corridor, every second step skipped because of how uneven the floor boards were. It happened every time they did this. These buildings didn’t have anti-demon shielding; they were from a time before. If they were caught outside regulated zones, they’d have their income frozen and fines induced. If they were caught selling what was stolen from technically government owned property, they’d be forced to pay back double. But the reward was worth the risk, the little devil inside her head said (her name was Rebecca, Christina chuckled inwardly).
They finally stopped at the third door down. The little radar in Bucky’s bag was beeping, unnoticeable unless you were snug against it. That meant the rare metals found in minuscule amounts in old-tech motherboards were near! It could be something as worthless as a plastic electric car, or what they were really looking for. Rebecca clicked open the door in all its rotten glory- and what greeted them was immediate doom. Or what were signs of it. But of course that didn’t click to Rebecca at first. Her eyes were dead locked to the TV mounted on the demon-stained wall, and her fingers were already twitching in excitement, as though already holding the loaded credit card.
“Becca, maybe we can ditch this one, there’s stuff on the walls-“
“What? Are you kidding? There’s a mint looking TV right there! It’ll go for at least-“
“CAN’T YOU HEAR IT?-“ Tina’s mouth grew dry, hearing the scuttling. She never thought she’d see demons in person, but gods, she didn’t WANT to!”
“Just step outside if you’re too scared!”
“Please, Rebecca, please-“ Christina put her hands on Becca’s shoulders, trying to block the doorway, but was physically pushed off. Her girlfriend’s face was twisted in an indignant rage, mouth twisting into a snarl before she stepped into her demise.
Tina’s arm grew goosebumps as she watched her beloved stride forward with the confidence of a winner, over bite-dotted furniture, dusty carpets and shattered mugs with their shed skins giving it a pearlescent overlay. The black smears on the walls were what had scared her initially but now she knew Bucky’s fate was sealed. And she could not do a single thing but watch.
The demise was in the form of a swarm of insects; daemonium insectum, stupidly, ironically called, when they crawled from behind the TV as Bucky tried dismounting it from the war. Their little legs were on her skin before she had a chance to scream, their suckers latching onto the skin and causing welts to erupt where they crawled. The fly alone was harmless, but they’d learnt to swarm. Scientists had said they’d evolved from Muscidae Diptera, like mosquitoes, but had overdeveloped their numbing agent and realised they couldn’t be slapped away if they all fed at once. Maybe she was rerunning her primary Health lessons to rationalise her girlfriend falling limp to the floor, her mouth stretched in a wordless scream as the insects feasted. By ‘overdeveloped numbing agent’, it meant a toxin that shut down your entire nervous system, causing it to spasm in pain. Something that hadn’t been needed to be told to 9 year olds except to stop situations like this happening in unregulated zones. She couldn’t get help without alerting the authorities, and having to explain why they were out here, and having their joint bank account taken!
So, she did the only thing she knew would get her out without harm in the situation.
She left her girlfriend to rot in the demon’s claws and bolted like a cat with her tail between her legs.