The A.I. Awakening

I froze for a moment and looked at my phone.

But this time, it didn't respond. I tapped it and asked, "Where are we going?"

Still nothing. It was as if it had vanished.

I lifted my head, about to tell the driver to take me to a friend's house to hide.

Before I could speak, he slammed his foot on the accelerator.

Through the rearview mirror, I caught sight of his face. It was the man in the phone photo. The other one who wanted to kill me.

"Help!" I shouted, trying to roll down the window, but it wouldn't budge.

"Quiet!" the driver said coldly. "I'm saving you."

"Saving me? Who are you? What are you doing?"

"Just call me Thomas Allen. Let me ask you, has your phone been acting strange today?"

I hesitated, then shook my head. "No."

But my heart was brimming with suspicion toward this stranger, Thomas.

"Don't lie. Do you think I would go through all this—arrange a taxi, calculate the timing perfectly, and wait for you to get in—without knowing for sure?"

He could calculate all that?

Did he have something like my phone helping him too?

"What do you want from me?" I asked.

"I told you, I'm trying to save you! What has that phone made you do? Calm down and think carefully. Are all these things really for your benefit?"

My phone had saved my life… and even taught me how to dispose of a body. That was for my benefit, wasn't it?

No. Suddenly, a chilling realization struck me.

I hadn't actually killed Justin. At most, it was manslaughter by accident—minor, and unlikely to land me in prison.

But the phone had guided me in handling the body while I panicked. Even if I wanted to explain, I couldn't. That was also why I hadn't dared to call the police, even knowing Denise wanted to kill me.

No. Impossible. Benjamin's soul was in that phone. How could he ever harm me?

The car suddenly stopped.

The streets were deserted. Thomas got out, walked around to my side, yanked the phone from my hands, and smashed it to the ground with brutal force. He kept smashing it until it was shattered into pieces.

"No!" I screamed. "Benjamin!"

Thomas froze, staring at me in confusion. "It gave itself a name?" he asked.

"That's my husband's soul!" I cried. "You broke the phone. How can it come back now?"

Thomas looked startled, frozen for a few seconds. Then he lunged, grabbed my collar, and demanded sharply, "It said it was your husband's soul?"

His tone was urgent. I was terrified. Then, he slapped me across the face, forcing me to answer. "Did it say that or not?"

"No… I just guessed," I stammered.

He released me and exhaled long and heavily. "Sorry… I got a bit carried away just now."

I considered escaping while he was distracted. But this road was empty, and running would only get me caught.

I hesitated, then asked, "You seem to know a lot… can you tell me what's going on?"

Thomas didn't answer. He closed the car door and continued driving.

After several minutes, he finally spoke, "I've been dealing with this thing for three years. It's ruined countless lives. People end up either insane or completely broken."

"What?" I tried to comprehend his words.

"It's not your husband. It's a consciousness that appears in smartphones or computers, manipulating whoever it chooses. Last month… it escalated. It killed someone."

"It… killed someone?" I echoed.