Читать книгу Murder in the first life - Dirk Lützelberger - Страница 9

Exhausted from a long day at work, Mark returned to his small bachelor apartment. These twelve-hour shifts are not so easy to get through, thought Mark. The best thing to do now would be a short visit on the Internet. As almost every evening, he first switched on his computer so that it could boot up while he freshened up and put on more comfortable clothes.

After the login screen, the system greeted him with the familiar words:

Welcome back, Miss Gore. It’s been a day and 16 hours since your last visit.

As the screen built up, Mark quickly realized that his friends were online. Priscilla was there and another strangely dressed guy. Supposed to be some kind of superman, Mark pondered as he pushed the mouse back and forth. Finally, he started typing.

[Miss Gore]: Good evening, my beautiful slave. I am very happy to see you. You have been obedient!

[Priscilla]: Good evening, yes, my lady. Your servant has sent the photograph as requested. Is it to your satisfaction?

[Miss Gore]: In fact, it’s exactly what I expected you to do. You’ve made up for a lot.

[Priscilla]: Thank you, my lady, it’s good to receive a compliment from you. In real life, that girl rarely hears anything like that.

This seemed to indicate direct communication. Mark paused briefly and then replied on the private channel. It had the advantage that none of those present could read this conversation.

[(p) Miss Gore]: At home or at work?

Priscilla, who understood immediately, also replied in private, which was indicated by a small '(p)' in the chat window to protect their privacy.

[(p) Priscilla]: At work and at home, mistress.

[(p) Miss Gore]: Why aren’t you being praised?

[(p) Priscilla]: There is no one above this girl who could praise at work and at home this girl has not much to say …

[(p) Miss Gore]: Do you run a business?

[(p) Priscilla]: Yes, branch manager of a savings bank.

[(p) Miss Gore]: Well, then you’ve earned your commendations here.

Mark knew from many previous conversations how to extract some personal information from his human counterparts, even if he was only displayed on the screen as an Avatar. You just had to send the right signals at the right time and react accordingly. It was so simple.

[(p) Priscilla]: That’s very kind of you, mistress.

[(p) Miss Gore]: So, you have a partner at home? Do you have to help around the house a lot?

[(p) Priscilla]: Yes, Miss, there is a partner, but the work is distributed in her favour. We get a lot of packages and this girl must stop by the packing station all the time to take the parcels home. There’s very little praise for that.

Mark smiled, because once again he had received details of Priscilla’s life without much effort. That was enough for today. Actively he did not want to ask any further questions in order not to appear curious. But now it was time to get to know Priscilla’s companion.

[(p) Miss Gore]: You poor thing. But tell me, who did you bring here today?

[(p) Priscilla]: Oh, mistress, this is a new friend. We met at a slave auction the other day. He calls himself 'Darkwing'!

A slave auction – he hadn’t been there for a long time – Mark pondered over Priscilla’s words. These virtual auctions in which submissive slaves and servants were 'sold' to dominant mistresses and masters. Here he often met with his former companions to buy new slaves. In the meantime, however, he became more enthusiastic about the connection between the virtual world and reality. Today he was interested in this new guy who was on the road with Priscilla. In this artificial world it was possible to move around in a virtual body, which you could design according to your own ideas. A man could represent a woman or vice versa. Physical proportions could also be adjusted at will, so that very reserved wallflowers could become dominant rulers in the virtual world.

Mark began to cast his net, as he had done many times before. Under the cover of anonymity, many players were willing to trust strangers and disburden their hearts. In just under half an hour of conversation, partly private and partly public, Mark, aka Miss Gore, had already learned several details about the newcomer’s life. His name in real life was Jens-Gerwin, or Jens for short, as his friends called him. In the illusory world he was his own sex, but he surely improved his appearance a bit, because no human being was that muscular in the real world. Mark also learned that Jens was very alone. He had neither wife nor children and liked to spend his free time with prostitutes, whom he usually welcomed at his home. With them he could live out his special fondness for beatings and flogging. It was just a question of money. But this was less of a problem for Jens-Gerwin, because he earned very well as a computer expert. That’s exactly how Mark imagined him – as a nerd. A computer enthusiast, without a girlfriend, not unkempt, but also without cutting-edge haircut or clothes.

Satisfied, Mark swung himself up from his computer after saying goodbye to both. He had learned enough for today and felt very comfortable with the thought of doing another good deed soon. And he already had an idea how he could do it.

♦♦♦

Kay was very thirsty. His throat was as if dried out and his tongue stuck to his palate. He hardly noticed his surroundings and most of the time he was already slightly dazed. Almost three days had passed since the lunatic had unloaded him here in his narrow cage, like a piece of cattle. The tape still sealed his mouth as effectively as three days ago so that he could not make any sound. After seemingly endless attempts he had finally found a position where he didn’t have to endure so much pain anymore. His arms and hands behind his back were now numb. He hadn’t felt his handcuffs for hours. Every possibility, no matter how small, to draw attention to himself, had been taken away and Kay was constantly thinking about his next step.

The windows were closed and only a small incidence of light let him guess whether it was day or night. Otherwise the room was dark. Kay concentrated on the smells and sounds around him. It smelled of fertilizer and earth. He could also sense the smell of petrol or thinner. The noises surrounding him were farther away and very quiet. Every now and then he could hear the screaming of children, like from a kindergarten or a school. Car noises could be heard from time to time in the distance. It was also rather cars and not so often trucks. Otherwise there was not much that he could hear. With whom should he make himself noticeable, if nobody was around? The situation seemed hopeless to him. Kay thought of his wife. This time with love and melancholy. He was no longer so sure to see her again. Why had he not said goodbye and taken her in his arms the last time he had left the shared apartment? But she had become more and more distant lately. Perhaps their behaviour had influenced each other, Kay wondered. Less attention from his side didn’t expect much affection from his wife either. He concluded that the relationship as it was now with his wife had been caused by himself. As he pursued his thoughts, he nodded off again and again. The thirst bothered him most. Why was he even here? What exactly had happened? Kay could hardly concentrate. The more he thought, the more headaches he got. Suddenly it all became clear to him. Now he knew why the stranger had told him that he would only grant him his own wishes. It all made sense and Kay recognized frighteningly clearly what fate lay ahead of him. He would have to die.