(Untitled) - [Chapter 1]

"HARDER!" she yelled.

"I'm going as hard as I can!", I wheezed back.

"If this is as hard as you can go, we are done; you pussy."

Her sudden love of a more dominatrix and violent form of sex was unappealing to me. Nonetheless I took a deep breath and gave it my all. Within a few minutes I finished and collapsed being completely drained from the [residual] task.

"How was that?" I managed to pant out.

"Meh," she retorted as she lit up a cigarette.

"Just meh?" I questioned wondering where this new carnal appetite for rough raw fucking had come from. "I gave it my all..." I trailed off feeling defeated. "This isn't like you, what has changed in the last few months since I last saw you?"

"I..." she started, but trailed off looking away from me. "I just can't do this anymore. You and I, I can't do it. I no longer have feelings for you." She didn't look me in the eye as these words were spewing out of her mouth.

"Is there someone else? Is there something I did wrong? Please tell me what I can do to keep you from leaving." I started tearing up. She was the love of my life and we had been together for five years now.

"You're too feminine. You cry too much. You're not a real man"
Her words struck me and I felt my chest tighten as if I was having a heart attack. At age 24 ... Fuck, what would it be like when I was 50?

"I'm too feminine? You made me the way I am. You're the one that changed me to become more feminine." I stated.

"Yeah, well I am done with you." She got up put her bra and panties back on. She proceeded to grab the rest of her clothes and things and just walked out the door without as much as a goodbye. I sat there awestruck trying to figure out what had just happened; questioning if it had just really happened or if I was having a nightmare. Five minutes passed; then ten, then twenty. Yup it really happened, Fuck.

Six months later I was sitting in my apartment thinking about that night as I did another line of coke. I thought to myself, "Where the fuck did I go wrong? What the fuck had happened that was so bad that she just up and walked out of my life like that?" I inhaled the rest of the coke and wiped the residue off of my nose. Opening my laptop, I was prompted with a password to log in. I entered it. "Let's get to work." I said before starting another twenty-four hour data-mining session.

I woke up some time later more dazed and confused than usual. I stretched and coughed for about five minutes before looking at a clock and realizing I had been asleep for three days. "I really need to lay of the coke," I thought to myself. After looking around the room for about fifteen minutes I realized that my laptop had been dinging. The screen now read [PROCESS COMPLETE: 100%]. I opened up the output folder and there was a slew of files there. Credit card numbers, social security numbers, bank statements, you name it. Everything one person needed in order to steal an identity; it was all there. I quickly made a copy of the output onto a flash drive, encrypted it and stored it in the wall safe (I always do this just in case). I grabbed my phone and texted my client and said the job was done and that I had the information they had requested. He responded almost immediately, telling me to encrypt the files and send them through to the specified burn email address in the text message. I did just that. Within minutes of doing what I was asked, I received another ding on my laptop; it was a notification from my bank saying that $50,000.00 was deposited into my account. I smiled and shut the laptop and went back to sleep.

For years this is how my life has been. An unknown client approaches me anonymously about a job, I do the job, get paid for the job and then the circle starts itself all over again. No names exchanged. Just text messages sent to and from a burner phone that is untraceable. I preferred it that way, makes things less complicated. However, for confusions sake, you can call me Ac1d (pronounced Acid). I am a hacker, and I steal identities for money. It is my way of life. If you have a problem, just simply stop reading. Otherwise, prepare yourselves for the fucked up adventure that is my day to day life.

Don Oerkfitz

Read more posts by this author.