REWIND: Tampered (Youtube FanFiction)

Chapter Thirteen

"Greater Good"

Day 11 – Sunday
7:34PM

||Dawn Watson (CreatedAtDusk)||

Technophobia is a term used to describe the consistent fear of technology and the advances concerning it. Apparently, this phobia is known to affect many people around the world and is also known to affect these people differently. Some feel extreme anxiety when thinking about or using technology, some ridicule others who use technology, and some confidently claim that they can live by without technological advances.

However, in the case of Argus, our crazed serial-killer, he is obviously far past the line of ridiculing others for using technology. Not only does he fear the machines created by technology, but he also highly believes that those who use it, specifically us YouTubers, control other people through the internet. His insane little diary says it all, besides the fact that the sight of another person dying no longer fazes him.

He's fallen way too deep into his self-constructed nightmare that he even went to such drastic lengths to bring justice upon these "monsters". He's a loner who travels around in a beaten up truck with a laptop with no webcam, or any sockets at all. He's secluded himself, fearful of the modern society around him and finding comfort around the deep web with those with his condition.

But what really irks me, and saddens me in a way, is the fact that he truly fears technology, the internet and those who use it but he uses those same things to orchestrate his sick form of judgment. He has become the monster from the internet, the kind of monster that he truly fears.

That's what's messing with my head—the fact that this crazed son of a bitch is far too lost in his nightmare already, that he no longer sees that he already is the embodiment of the thing he fears. I don't know if I should despise him, fear him, or feel sorry for him.

My train of thought gets interrupted by long arms wrapping around me from behind. I just now realize that I've been staring at a wall for who knows how long, until I hear Dan talking to me calmly with his head on my shoulder, "Hey, it's not good to keep it all to yourself."

I chuckle, letting loose a little as I rest a hand on one of his arms, feeling the material of his sweater, "I can't believe I'm hearing that from you."

Dan lets out a guilty laugh before letting go and sitting next to me on the sofa in the lounge. Well, I'm not wrong—he still refuses to talk about Phil up to this day with me, with anyone. Though, I can't really blame him. I don't talk to him about Phil, either.

I guess this is how we try to deny the fact that he's gone. I guess the longer that we don't mention his death, the longer it will seem like he's still alive.

"Nate's been cooped up in his room all day again," Dan comments, breaking the silence. "Don't you think we should go check up on him?"

I turn my head to glance at Nate's bedroom door, which is locked from the inside. He hasn't come out since last night and I don't know if he's more disturbed about the massacre or the fact that we found the psycho controlling this mess. His mind seemed to be no longer clouded after last night, but I guess that gave way to the realization of the reality we're in—the reality where Hunter is dead, and Mark and Jack and a fuck ton of other YouTubers were massacred last night.

I heave a sigh before turning back to Dan, "I think we should leave him be. He probably needs more time for himself, to process everything that has happened."

"But it's still normal to worry about him, you know, so you don't have to hide it," Dan reassures me. "I can see how worried you are about him. It's like how you always look at me and...and Phil...when you know something's wrong."