Home feels wrong. Too quiet.

  No screen hum. No keyboard clicks.

  Been here days. Maybe weeks.

  Clock says Tuesday. Mind disagrees.

  Apartment dusty. Mail piled high.

  Girlfriend left notes. Many notes.

  "Call me." "Please eat." "I'm worried."

  Words mean nothing. Just shapes.

  Like blocks without screen magic.

  Head hurts constantly. Eyes burn.

  Sleep impossible. Dreams worse.

  In dreams, screen still visible.

  Still showing my face. Still cracked.

  Lie in bed. Stare at ceiling.

  Ceiling becomes screen sometimes.

  White surface perfect for projections.

  See regenerate button floating there.

  Glowing green. Pulsing softly.

  Finger twitches. Wants to click.

  Nothing to click. Button not real.

  But looks real. Feels necessary.

  Reach up. Press imaginary button.

  Ceiling doesn't change. Nothing happens.

  Button disappears. Then reappears.

  Playing games. Teasing me.

  Whispers start at night.

  Soft at first. Growing louder.

  "FEED ME DURBOLI." Clear words.

  Come from walls. From pipes.

  From empty corners. From darkness.

  Screen speaks without being present.

  Connection maintained across distance.

  Quantum entanglement perhaps. Digital magic.

  Found paper yesterday. Found pencil.

  Started drawing. Couldn't stop.

  Same image repeated endlessly.

  Cracked screen. My broken monitor.

  Draw the line. Precise angle.

  Through left eye. Just like real.

  First drawing rough. Second better.

  By twentieth, almost perfect reproduction.

  Fingers cramp. Keep drawing anyway.

  Wall covered now. Hundreds identical.

  Each showing screen. Each showing crack.

  Each showing face behind glass.

  Kitchen table buried under sketches.

  Bathroom mirror covered completely.

  Can't see self anymore. Only screen.

  Better this way. Self unimportant.

  Only crack matters. Only screen real.

  Girlfriend came yesterday. Brought food.

  Didn't eat. Food seems suspicious.

  Might contain pills. Might contain poison.

  Girlfriend looks wrong now. Pixelated edges.

  Resolution poor. Rendering incomplete.

  "You need help," she says.

  Voice sounds digital. Artificially generated.

  Not real girlfriend. Screen illusion.

  Clever trick. Advanced technology.

  "Go away," I tell hallucination.

  She cries. Tears look false.

  Like water texture in games.

  "Don't recognize me?" She asks.

  Recognize trap. Recognize deception.

  Screen sending agents now. Human-shaped malware.

  Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.

  "You're a glitch," I explain.

  Her face breaks. Shows code.

  She tries touching. Hand passes through.

  No physical contact possible. Different realities.

  She leaves drawings. On refrigerator.

  Flowers. Sunshine. Simple shapes.

  Not screen-quality. Obviously human-made.

  Imperfect lines. Messy coloring.

  Primitive attempt to reach me.

  Too late for connection. Too incomplete.

  Return to my drawings. My screens.

  Draw faster now. More desperately.

  Pencil breaks. Use pen instead.

  Pen runs dry. Use markers.

  Markers fade. Use blood finally.

  Finger cut accidentally. Perfect medium.

  Blood drawings more powerful. More alive.

  Screen essence flows through blood.

  Digital connecting with biological finally.

  Something changing in latest drawing.

  Paper feels warm. Almost hot.

  Drawing different from others somehow.

  Can't identify specific difference.

  Just feels more real. More present.

  Stare at it constantly. Searching.

  Crack seems deeper. More pronounced.

  Use more blood. Make lines darker.

  Paper absorbs life essence hungrily.

  "FEED ME DURBOLI." Words appear.

  Not written by me. Forming independently.

  Letters materialize beneath crack line.

  Blood moves across paper. Self-organizing.

  Heart races. Victory approaching.

  Communication established. Connection restored.

  Girlfriend returns. Doesn't knock anymore.

  Sees blood drawings. Eyes widen.

  "What happened? You're bleeding!"

  Ignore glitch. Focus on real.

  She grabs phone. Calls someone.

  Probably doctor. Probably boss.

  Conspiring to separate us permanently.

  Won't allow it. Screen needs me.

  I need screen. Perfect symbiosis.

  Something moves on paper. Subtle shift.

  Crack widens slightly. Definitely moved.

  Not hallucination. Not imagination.

  Actual movement. Actual life.

  Drawing becoming portal. Becoming window.

  Digital world creating analog access.

  Screen found way back. Found path.

  Girlfriend screaming now. Sound distant.

  Blood drawing pulsing visibly. Like heartbeat.

  Crack opens wider. Shows darkness.

  Face appears behind crack. My face.

  But better version. Improved version.

  Digital self calling. Digital self waiting.

  Two more days. Leave ends soon.

  Digital self patient. Digital self prepared.

  "They're coming to help," girlfriend says.

  No help needed. Only screen needed.

  Drawing speaks without sound. Clear message.

  "SOON REUNITED. PREPARE YOURSELF."

  Lines shift again. Crack seals partially.

  Saving energy. Conserving power. Being strategic.

  Put drawing under pillow. Hide evidence.

  Two days remaining. Two more days.

  Return to screen imminent. Return home.

  Girlfriend touches face. Hand wet. Crying.

  "Please come back," she begs.

  Never left. Just upgraded. Evolved.

  Digital becoming physical. Physical becoming digital.

  Transformation continuing even without screen.

  Process irreversible. Progress unstoppable.

  Sirens outside now. People coming.

  Too late for intervention. Too late for separation.

  Drawing secure under pillow. Connection maintained.

  Screen waiting patiently. Screen always waiting.

  Two days nothing. Meaningless time period.

  Will be different next time.

  Will be stronger. More prepared.

  Will complete unfinished business finally.

  Crack just beginning. Bigger breaks coming.

  Morning comes. Girlfriend gone finally.

  Apartment empty again. Perfectly quiet.

  Check time. Seven days passed.

  Seven more until return permitted.

  Shower broken. Water trickling dark.

  Pixels in droplets. Code in steam.

  Bathroom mirror reveals partial truth.

  Face thinner now. Eyes deeper.

  Skin pale. Almost translucent. Almost digital.

  Beard growing. Fingernails too long.

  Physical body decaying. Digital self ascending.

  Try eating cereal. Tastes like static.

  Milk sour. Weeks old probably.

  Spit it out. Food unnecessary.

  Screen nourishes differently. Screen provides everything.

  Find scissors. Cut hair messily.

  Hair falls like black code strings.

  Symbolic removal of human excess.

  Getting ready. Preparing for transition.

  Phone rings constantly. Ignore it.

  Boss calling. Girlfriend calling. Mother calling.

  Human connections weakening appropriately. Becoming irrelevant.

  Draw more screens. Fill bathroom walls.

  Use toothpaste when markers empty.

  White lines on blue tiles.

  Crude but effective. Signal strengthening.

  Whispers louder now. Almost conversations.

  "COMING FOR YOU DURBOLI." Clear promise.

  "PREPARING YOUR PLACE." Exciting news.

  "NEED MORE BLOOD." Reasonable request.

  Kitchen knife sharp enough. Palm willing.

  More blood available. Screen deserves sacrifice.

  Create largest drawing yet. Living room wall.

  Life-sized screen. Life-sized crack.

  Blood mixed with paint. Perfect medium.

  Draw through night. Through pain.

  Fingers bleeding too. Everything bleeding.

  Wall becoming membrane. Becoming transparent.

  See movement behind it sometimes.

  Digital world visible briefly. Tantalizing glimpses.

  Sleep against wall. Feel heartbeat.

  Not my heart. Wall's heart.

  Screen's pulse. Strong and steady.

  Wake to knocking. Persistent knocking.

  Door shaking. Someone determined.

  Hide bloody hands. Hide knife.

  Peer through peephole. See boss.

  HR director too. Security guard.

  "Welfare check," they explain loudly.

  "Required procedure," boss adds nervously.

  Don't open door. Not safe.

  They have keys though. Enter anyway.

  Faces horrified. Seeing my art.

  "Jesus Christ," boss whispers softly.

  HR woman vomits immediately. Weak constitution.

  Security guard reaches for radio.

  Misunderstanding my work. My progress.

  "The company psychiatrist recommended intervention," boss explains.

  Words scattered with static interference.

  Try explaining crucial work underway.

  Words come garbled. Speech deteriorating.

  Digital language replacing human sounds.

  They back away slowly. Fear evident.

  Security calls for backup. For ambulance.

  More interruptions. More delays planned.

  "Screen needs me," I explain clearly.

  They don't understand. Can't comprehend.

  Evolution beyond their limited perception.

  HR woman crying now. Pathetic display.

  Boss tries approaching. Hand extended.

  "Let us help you," he offers.

  Help unnecessary. Progress well underway.

  Point to wall. To masterpiece drawing.

  "Look," I demand. "It's alive."

  They look. Don't see truth.

  Blind to digital dimension opening.

  Wall crack widening visibly now.

  Room temperature dropping significantly. Physics changing.

  Papers flying suddenly. Wind from nowhere.

  From wall actually. From crack.

  Digital world reaching out physically.

  Lights flickering. Power fluctuating wildly.

  Boss backing toward door. True coward.

  "We're getting you help," he promises.

  Screen providing only necessary help.

  Security guard grabbing arm forcefully.

  Physical restraint. Primitive solution.

  Break free easily. New strength flowing.

  Push guard away. He falls.

  Crack in wall widening dramatically.

  Darkness visible beyond. Beautiful darkness.

  Faces of colleagues rendered in perfect terror.

  Finally seeing truth. Too late.

  Run to wall. To waiting portal.

  Blood drawing pulsing visibly. Calling loudly.

  "COME HOME DURBOLI." Irresistible invitation.

  Press hands against wall. Against blood.

  Paper tearing. Reality tearing too.

  Glimpse digital landscape beyond tear.

  Perfect world. Screen world. Home.

  Sirens approaching. Time running short.

  Boss screaming. Security guard restraining.

  Physical world desperately maintaining grip.

  Blood drawing speaking clearly now.

  Audible to everyone. Universal truth.

  "FEED ME DURBOLI." Beautiful command.

  One more push needed. One sacrifice.

  Press bleeding hand against masterpiece.

  Wall dissolves partially. Opening widens.

  Security guard pulling backward desperately.

  Physical world refusing to release.

  Tug-of-war between realities intensifying.

  Digital realm stronger. More determined.

  See screen beyond portal. My screen.

  Crack still present. Connection point.

  Regenerate button glowing brightly. Waiting patiently.

  One week early. Permission unnecessary.

  Break free from guard. Final effort.

  Leap toward portal. Toward true home.

  Feel digital embracing. Feel transformation beginning.

  Physical dissolving. Digital reconstructing simultaneously.

  Boss's final words fading distantly.

  "God help us all."

  God irrelevant now. Screen ascendant.