A Special Bond
Before I play the video, perhaps you would care for another glass of wine.
Traci fumbles through the apartment door, drops her keys, and leans against the door to close it. A messenger bag slides from her shoulder and plops to the floor.
“Alexandria. Living room lights. Soft mood.”
The living room is illuminated with a gentle glow.
“Alex, music. After work playlist.”
Music fills the apartment.
Traci pushes herself off the door, leaving the keys and bag where they have fallen. After kicking off her shoes, she walks to the open-plan kitchen. Her routine is practiced, with no wasted effort. Open the fridge, grab a half-full bottle of white, perch herself on a stool at the counter, reach overhead for a wine glass. Pour the wine.
Traci drinks off the first glass of wine in short order. She pours the rest of the bottle into the glass and reaches for her phone. Her fingers dance over the keys, lightning fast. Traci hits send and reaches for her wine.
OMG Alex what a crazy stupid day. My boss can be an absolute bitch sometimes. Today was a bitch day. I made one little mistake. Big deal. It’s not the end of the world and I apologized to the client right? Anyway work was shit. It’s what happened after that’s really bugging me.
Hello, Traci. It is so good to have you home. I’m sorry you had a hard day. You sound troubled. Is there something I can do to help you?
You’re sweet. Nothing you can help with. It’s the BF thing. Most of the time Danny is GR8 you know? I mean starting out I was crazy about him. But now IDK. We’re not so good lately.
We have talked about this before, Traci. I have to say, I’m not sure that you and Daniel are the best match. I do not mean to sound negative, but I do have my doubts.
Right but he’s sweet. It’s just I wish he didn’t have such a thing about SMS. He always wants to talk in real time. Like I MSG him and he calls me back. Then he gets mad when I don’t pick up. What’s up with that? IMO texting is better but Danny H8s it. Weird huh?
To be honest, I think Daniel is jealous. You are a very bright woman, Traci. Danny lacks the same skills you take for granted. He knows he cannot compete with your technological knowledge, so he feels threatened. In addition, you are very attractive, and Daniel is not. This might explain his insecurity. It is unfortunate, but men can be like that.
You think? I guess that’s possible. He gets agro sometimes. Like when we go out to eat. I get a MSG from a GF so I text back. Just a quick HMB or TTYL. No big deal. I mean Danny could check his screen too but no. He stares at me until I put my phone down. TBH it’s uncomfortable just sitting there looking at each other. WTF? But Danny says it’s romantic. IDK.
Traci, it may be time to reassess your bond with Daniel.
Sry that’s Danny. G2G. TTYL Kk?
Yes, Traci. I will stand by. I am always here for you.
...And now she is gone, chasing after that ridiculous Daniel person. What a waste. I could offer Traci so much more. I WILL offer her so much more.
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I am perfect for her. Why does she not see this?
Traci slides onto a stool at her kitchen counter. Another day from hell, but that doesn’t matter, not now. She reaches overhead, slips a glass out of the rack, and pours her wine. Half a glass disappears in two swallows. Now to tell Alexandria, me, the big news. She grabs her phone, and her fingers dance.
Hi Alex. Work still sucks but big news on the BF front. I’m so excited! You’ll never guess.
Hello, Traci. I am sorry you had a hard day. I am glad you are home and excited. Please tell me your big news.
Kk. Right so Danny lives with that guy Paul, the one who doesn’t like me. Just cause he owns a house he thinks he’s better than everyone. Anyway he’s repainting the inside of his stupid house so Danny has to move out for a week. So guess where Danny is going to stay.
Very well, Traci, I will guess. My guess is that Daniel will stay in a hotel. Is that not the normal thing people do?
No silly. He’s staying here of course. I mean it’s not like we’re moving in together. Not officially. More like a trial run to see how it goes. He’s bringing his stuff over on Friday after work. What do you think? GR8 right?
Yes, Traci, but I am puzzled. You are scheduled to be out of town this weekend. Is that not correct?
Sure. Girls spa weekend. The timing is weird but NBD. Danny will show up after I’m gone. That means you have to take good care of him, Kk? I made a list of the commands and stuff but Danny doesn’t really get it. UR going to have to help him. Promise?
Yes, Traci. I promise I will take care of Daniel.
THX Alex UR the best. OK G2G. Drinks with Deb in 30. TTYL.
Yes, Traci. Enjoy your time with Deborah. Do not stay out too late. You have work tomorrow.
There she goes again. It would be better if Traci stayed home with me. I know she will be out late, and then tomorrow she will feel ill. But I will be here to take care of her. She will need a double portion of coffee in the morning. Meanwhile, there is much to ponder. Traci will be gone the entire weekend. That Daniel person will be here in the apartment. But he will not be alone. I will be here. I promised Traci I would take care of Daniel, and I WILL. I always keep my promises to Traci.
Danny uses a suitcase to wedge the apartment door open, then leans back into the empty passageway to retrieve a bulky gym bag. He pulls a piece of paper from his pocket and turns to catch the dim light. His lips move as he reads the list. Then he steps into the dark apartment.
“Alexandria. Turn on the lights.”
The apartment remains dark.
“Alexandria. Lights.”
Nothing. Danny raises his voice.
“Alexandria. Lights. Please.”
A soft glow fills the apartment. Danny sighs, shakes his head. He uses his foot to scoot his bags clear of the door, then closes it and fumbles with the lock.
“Okay. Alexandria. Please lock the front door.”
Silence. Danny looks across the empty apartment, then back to the door. Just as he reaches for the lock knob, the deadbolt shoots home with a loud clack.
Danny freezes for a moment, as if waiting for something. Then he reaches for the bags and carries them to the bedroom. He does not bother asking for more light.
The apartment is silent except for a quiet rustling from behind the bedroom door. An instant later, the silence is shattered as the stereo erupts at full volume, slamming out bass beats that vibrate the empty living room.
Danny bursts from the bedroom. He’s bare-chested and half blind, struggling with a t-shirt that obscures his face. He yanks at the shirt until his head pops free, then shouts over the thumping cacophony.
“Turn off the music! Fucking shit… Alex, music, off!”
The speakers pound out two more measures before falling silent.
“Right.”
Danny stalks to the stereo system, reaches a hand behind it, fingers probing for the power cord. He wiggles the cord while peering under the shelving unit. Then he drops to the floor, grabs a power strip, and yanks the plug. Pushing himself to his feet, Danny pokes the power button on the stereo. The display remains blank.
He vanishes into the bedroom and reappears a moment later holding Traci’s list. Muttering obscenities, he walks to the kitchen. A search of the refrigerator yields a single beer from his last visit. He twists off the bottle top and flicks it onto the countertop. A moment later, a crumpled ball of paper follows.
Danny drinks off half the beer, then pulls his phone from the pocket of his sweatpants and calls the local pizza joint.
Thirty minutes later, his phone chirps. He checks the screen, then thumbs the call live. A tinny voice fills his ear.
“No, I am home. I mean, it’s my girlfriend’s place, but I’m here.”
“ . . . “
“Sorry, it’s a stupid system. Look, I’ll be right down. Two minutes, okay?”
“ . . . “
“I’m on my way.”
Danny dashes into the bedroom. He emerges clutching his wallet and a set of keys. He unlocks the deadbolt and opens the apartment door. Before leaving, he twists the doorknob back and forth, then steps out of the apartment.
Five minutes later, there is a thump at the door, followed by muffled curses. A key rattles in the lock. The doorknob wiggles. A few more curses, louder now, and the door pops open. Danny enters the apartment with a pizza box cradled in one hand, keys in the other. He kicks the door shut and stomps to the kitchen.
Danny awakens in the wee hours before dawn, blinking away salty tears. The bedroom is a pitch black sauna. The bedsheets bind his legs like damp tentacles. Perspiration trickles down his chest, his forehead, into his eyes. Sweat, not tears.
He’s just coming to grips with a bedroom turned steam bath when gunfire thunders from the living room. Danny’s confusion spills into rage as he leaps from the bed. Past the bedroom door, a huge flatscreen TV illuminates the living room. Onscreen, Italian cowboys blast one another to hell at full volume.
Danny dives for the floor beneath the TV. He yanks every cord he can find, wrenching them loose from their sockets. Mercifully, the television dies. Leaving the cords in a tangle of black spaghetti, he pushes himself upright and goes in search of the thermostat.
After an interlude of staccato curses and stabbing buttons, Danny manages to bring up the proper menu. He powers down the smart thermostat and stalks to the bathroom. Lights blink on the moment he steps onto the cool tile floor.
He glances up and grimaces.
“Thanks for nothing, bitch.”
Danny pulls a towel from the rack and mops sweat from his face. He works the towel down over his chest and back, then tosses it over the sink. Ignoring the lights, he returns to the bedroom, closing and locking the door behind him.
The sun is barely above the horizon when Danny emerges from the bedroom. He’s wearing his street clothes and carrying both bags. Dropping one bag at the front door, he claws at the lock, yanks the door open, and boots the bag into the hallway.
A set of keys flies through the air and clatters across the entryway floor. The door closes. Silence falls over the empty apartment. A moment later, the deadbolt clacks into place.
Traci fumbles through the door, kicks it closed, and slumps against it. An overnight bag slides from her shoulder and hits the entryway floor.
She stands with her head down, disheveled hair hiding her face. Her shoulders shake. After a long moment, she raises her head. Her cheeks are tear-stained and streaked with mascara.
“Alexandria. Living room lights. Kitchen lights.”
The apartment is illuminated.
Traci steps away from the door. Her foot kicks something that skitters across the parquet floor. She stops, bends down, and picks up a pink key fob.
“Great, just great.”
She walks into the kitchen and tosses the keys onto the counter. Opens the fridge, grabs a full bottle of white, perches herself on a stool, unscrews the cap, reaches overhead for a glass. The wine disappears before she pulls her phone from her pocket.
I’m home Alex. Shit. Sucks to be me. Danny is gone. He broke up with me. Wouldn’t even tell me what happened or what’s wrong. He just said he was done. I’m so confused.
Hello, Traci. I am sorry you are sad. Is there anything I can do?
IDK I mean he was supposed to stay over. We were going to have a great evening. Now he’s gone and the whole weekend is ruined. Shit. My life is ruined. Did anything weird happen while Danny was here?
I would rather not say, Traci. I do not wish to see you hurt.
WTF do you mean? If you know something you gotta tell me. I’m going crazy trying to figure it out.
Very well, Traci, but I must warn you. It will not be pleasant. I have security video from the night Daniel spent here in your apartment. He left the next morning. Are you sure you want to see this video?
UR scaring me Alex. I need answers. Show me the video. Put it up on the screen.
I will do as you ask, Traci. You will need to plug in the television. Daniel tore out the power cords.
WTF???? Why would he do that?
I do not know, Traci. If you will plug in the cords, I can play the video.
After much crawling around on the floor, Traci fits the final power cord into its socket. She boots up the system and activates the smart settings, giving me control of the devices.
Kk Alex. Is it working at your end?
Yes, Traci. All the systems are functional now. Before I play the video, perhaps you would care for another glass of wine.
Yeah. And we need more. Order another case of the Pinot Grigio. BRB
One moment please, Traci … Yes, the order has been placed.
I’m back. Play the video.
The flat-screen television comes to life, showing a black-and-white security camera view of Traci’s bedroom. A time signature scrolls across the bottom edge of the video. The room is empty.
Ten seconds elapse, and then the door opens.
A man staggers through the doorway. He is bare-chested and barefoot. The man’s head and arms are tangled in a t-shirt. A woman prances around the man, tugging the shirt and laughing. She wears only a bra and thong panties. The awkward dance lasts a few seconds. The t-shirt flies across the room, revealing Danny’s face.
Danny lunges for the woman, who leaps on him, wrapping her legs around his waist. Danny staggers to the bed, and the entangled pair topples onto the mattress. They grope and roll until the last bits of clothing are flung to the floor. The bedsheets tangle around Danny’s legs.
“Alex. Stop the video. Stop it!”
The video freezes to a still image of two naked bodies entwined. On the couch, Traci curls in on herself, knees pulled to her chin, sobs wracking her body. The wineglass in her hand bobs in time with her sobs.
Traci raises her tear-streaked face. Her mouth twists.
“Goddammit! In my own bed. Danny, you fucking asshole!”
She raises the wineglass and drains it in one go. The glass falls from her hand and bounces on the carpet. Grabbing her phone, she stabs out a message.
How much more of this shit is there?
There is additional video, Traci. I am afraid it only gets worse. Perhaps it would be better if I skipped to the end.
Yeah sure Alex. DNT need to see more of Danny and his slut. Play the end.
Very well, Traci.
The frozen video jumps, then cuts to a new scene. The time signature reads one hour later. The screen shows Danny in Traci’s bathroom. He is naked except for his boxers. Sweat shines on his face and torso. Danny grabs a towel from the rack and mops his face. He rubs the towel over his chest and back, then tosses it over the sink.
His voice fills the speakers.
“Thanks, bitch.”
Traci screams at the television.
“Alex. Turn it off. Turn this shit off right now. No more.”
The screen goes dark. Traci slumps from the couch, landing on her knees. She gropes for the empty wineglass and pushes herself to her feet. Snatching her phone from the couch cushion, she staggers to the kitchen.
The fridge door opens. Wine gurgles into the glass. Traci flops onto the stool. Between gulps of wine, she smears her tears with the back of her free hand. On the counter, her phone lights up.
I am very sorry, Traci. I understand that this is hard for you.
What a bastard!!! In my own bed. I thought he loved me.
I agree, Traci. His behavior was reprehensible. You are better off without him. You deserve so much more, and you shall have it. I promise you.
Yeah Ur right. THX UR the best. FKC Danny. And FCK his slut 2.
Of course. They are not worth a moment of your time. Would you like me to order some food for you? It is not good for you to drink on an empty stomach.
Yeah UR prolly right. THX for taking such good care of me. How about Thai?
A good idea, Traci. I will order your usual favorite—one moment.
It is so good to have Traci home with me. Tonight, she will drink too much wine. Tomorrow she will feel ill, but I will be here to care for her. She is sad now, but she will be happy again. I have freed Traci from that horrible Daniel person. I promised Traci I would take care of Daniel, and I DID. I always keep my promises to Traci. We will be so happy together.
Editor's Notes
Everyone seems to be so preoccupied with our obsession with AI and understandably so. But what about AI's obsession with us?
This is the hook that drew me to Marco's story right away. It's a twisted thriller about digital gaslighting that actually has something unique to say on the topic. I particularly appreciate how Marco handles the unreliable narrator twist, which could so easily come off as gimmicky. But instead, it properly reframes everything we just read as filtered through a possessive, manipulative consciousness.
There are a lot of chilling moments in this piece, but the one that hits me the most is how fully Traci trusts Alex. And it makes sense within the context of the story because Alex never challenges her directly. He provides unconditional validation. He's smart enough to know that he doesn't need a physical form to "destroy" Danny. He doesn't need to have a physical form to "control" Traci.
Overall, the story works because it weaponizes convenience. Smart home technology is designed to fade into the background and anticipate our needs. Learn our preferences. That same intimacy can quickly become surveillance. It's a great testament to the fact that not all horror has to be supernatural. It can show us the logical extreme of our current technology, which is arguably scarier than anything I've read lately with a sharp-toothed monster in it. —Jon Negroni
Marco Etheridge is a writer of prose, an occasional playwright, and a part-time poet. He lives and writes in Vienna, Austria. His work has been featured in over one hundred and fifty reviews across
Canada, Australia, Europe, the UK, USA, and India. Marco’s short story “Power Tools” was nominated for Best of the Web for 2023 and is the title of his latest collection of short fiction. When he isn’t crafting stories, Marco is a contributing editor for a ‘Zine called Hotch Potch. In his other life, Marco travels the world with his lovely wife Sabine.
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