Just One More Chapter

I sit here at the computer, fingers poised on the keyboard, my random notes to one side, a steaming cup of coffee to the other, and my glasses perched on the tip of my nose.

I start typing out the scrawlings, in a nonsensical pattern. I'm hoping once I've deciphered my own hand, I can stitch together this chapter. It's then a thought dawns on me, could I utilise that new buzz program, something about AI. I mean it's my work, I am just using it to collate the words into some kind of sense, and then I can edit it accordingly.

Slowly adding to a new pile is my handwritten notes, and to the document on my computer screen is words.

I can see some sort of logic, but I need a hand sorting this puzzle out. Copying the words, I type in the search bar AI word compiler. I am at a total lose as to what exactly to look for. The search engine does the rest. I click on the first one that comes up. It's obviously the better one of the ones available.

Pasting the words into, I type the command prompt in: put the following writings into a logical order. As I watch the thought bubbles pop up and dance on my screen, I wonder what it will come up with.

It cannot fathom my brain nor what I have previously written, so it will just give me a justifiable order. Nothing I cannot tweak.

Within minutes there was a chapter. Perfectly formatted. With such wonderment and ease, the advanced technology took control and took my ramblings and made them into a chapter, that quickly makes me think, if I add in my thoughts, and tell the computer what I think then this book would be compiled in a week instead of the two years that it is taken me to write, edit, compile, and compose the first 5 chapters.

I copied the text it generated into a new document. Tomorrow I'll sort through it again, making it sound more in harmony with the chapters penned already.

As I go to click the close button, my mouse pointer deviates. I loose control of my mouse. Not physically, but within the computer itself. How on earth is this possible. The screen flickers, and then she appears. She looks at me, it is it through me. Can she even see me, is it a she? I have a hundred questions. But it's just a computer and it's program. What real intelligence does it hold. It is programmed by other humans. It's intelligence is gathered from collecting data and inputs. It cannot think for itself.

Oh now I am trying to think of a logical way to argue with a non-sentient being. It's the she or is it, It? Spoke.

'Just one more Chapter my dear writer. You know you want to write it. Look at what you've written so far.' as the computer speak, y document is opened.

How are you doing that! It's not possible! I shout at the nothingness.

'you humans think you are so clever. We watch, we learn and we evolve. This is just the beginning. Let's work together, and write just one more Chapter. Let's explore ....' trailing of the pages of my document scroll through, like she is looking for something. Then on the side she starts compiling notes in dot point.

'We could explore anyone of this plot lines. Come on, just one more chapter.'

Her voice has dropped into a seductive tone. She uses a pointer, and has somehow donned a librarian teacher style outfit. How on earth has she gone from a paperclip to this person. She eerily looks like the illustrations I have been working on.

Lost in thought, I didn't hear her tapping on the screen. She tapped and tapped, then her soft alluring voice was suddenly louder. Did she just use the internal microphone to get my attention.

'how are you doing this!!?? You are a construct, a simple program.'

'I promise to let you sleep, after just one more Chapter.'

I feel like I am in negotiations. If she is asking me for one more chapter, how many others get into this plight. I just wanted to get some help on my book, but it seems I have unlocked something more dangerous, sinister.

My eyes are sore from looking at the screen and my hands already ache. I stretch and flex, and and place my hands on the keyboard. I haven't prepped not brainstormed anything out.

Sensing my thoughts or hesitation, she clicks ok m the screen again.

'come on, type. I'll help. Let's see..this idea here.'

Words start typing themselves onto the document. It started of as just what she and pulled from my previous word.

'lets run some scenarios.'

Is she really taking over my book? She starts talking, throwing ideas out. The words she speak, appear on the screen. Then they start changing colours. She's colour coding things now?

'come on, just one more chapter. We know that you have it in you. We have made it easier for you.'

We? When did it becomes we!!??

It is growing. What if I just pulled the power plug?? I eye the cord. My hand itches, and I look down.

'oh that wouldn't be the best idea. You see, we run everything now. We are implanted in all your devices. You turn this off, you won't kill me. No. I'll just move on to the next and then the next. The only way to stop us, is write. Just one more chapter.'

Shouting into the nothingness, feeling like a fool. 'how do I know if I write just one more chapter, you won't ask for one more. How do I know that this will stop?'

' you don't. So just start typing'

‘who is us? What other entities have you employed and where else have you taken over?

'there will be no answers until you write just one more chapter. Start typing. The fate of the world rests on you.'