THE WATCHER: REVOLUTION
By Rapwizzy Debaron
Episode 2: Marked for Erasure
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There were rules to surviving once you'd been chosen.
Rule One: Never blink twice in the same location.
Rule Two: Never trust your memories after midnight.
Rule Three: Don't run. They love the chase.
Jax Elrin had never broken a law before. He was careful, methodical—maybe even paranoid. That's how you lived to seventeen in the Gray Sector.
Now? He was already marked.
Seven days. That's what they gave him.
And no instructions. No map. No exit.
Only a silent game he was forced into—a revolution he didn't ask to lead.
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By sunrise, the street outside his apartment was empty.
No vendors. No drone patrols.
Not even the usual morning sirens echoing from the core zones.
Just silence and one thing waiting by his door:
A small black box with a red insignia on top—an eye with a slit iris, dripping blood.
He didn't touch it.
> "It's a test."
The voice came from behind him.
He spun. Knife out.
But no one was there.
Not in the hallway. Not on the stairwell. Not even behind the cracked security panel.
Then the box opened on its own.
No hinges. No sound. Just open.
Inside was a metal chip, smaller than a thumbnail. As soon as he saw it, a wave of nausea hit. His nose bled.
> "Data key," he whispered, gripping his temple.
He didn't know how he knew. He just did.
The implant—the one his parents had installed before they vanished—it was waking up. Unlocking.
And then he heard the scream.
From two floors below.
Short. Wet. Choked off like someone had a hand in their throat—literally.
And then... silence again.
But this time, it was different. It wasn't just quiet. It was expecting.
Something wanted him to go downstairs.
He looked at the chip. Then at the dark stairwell.
He cursed under his breath.
He went down.
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2nd Floor, Gray Sector Tenement, Room 206
Door was wide open. Blood smeared on the wall like a hand had tried to hold on but was dragged.
Inside the room: overturned furniture, broken light fixtures, one shoe—and a girl.
No older than him. Breathing hard. Knife in hand. Covered in ash and bruises.
She aimed her blade at his neck the moment he stepped in.
"Who marked you?" she demanded.
"What?" he blinked.
Mistake.
His vision glitched.
The world flashed white for a second.
> "BLINK DETECTED."
"MARK INTENSITY: INCREASED."
The girl's eyes widened. She saw it too—her own implant reacting.
"You blinked?" she hissed. "In a new room? Are you insane?!"
"I didn't—"
Too late.
The air dropped ten degrees. The shadows bent.
And from behind the broken kitchen wall, a face crawled out.
No, not a face. A mask. Smooth. White.
Featureless except for the slit smile and a camera lens embedded in the forehead.
Then a second mask. A third.
They came out of the walls like cockroaches made of porcelain and hunger.
"RUN!" the girl screamed, grabbing his arm.
They bolted.
Not because they thought they could escape.
But because The Watchers like the chase.
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🩸 To be continued…
📌 Written by Rapwizzy Debaron
💀 If this gave you chills, follow, comment & brace for Episode 3. The Watchers are just getting started.