Blue Whale

Day 1

I tapped my fingers, each movement betraying the impatience I felt. This was a crucial moment, if she didn't send the evidence properly the whole game was down the drain. As such I was to be found sitting in front of my computer at Seven-Thirty Monday morning, repeatedly refreshing my inbox. My annoyance and impatience grew with every click, expecting to see a message each time and getting nothing, though of course I was hardly leaving a fair period of time between each refresh so my lack of findings wasn't overly surprising.

Then all of sudden a message and a link appeared in my inbox. A smile spread across my face as I recognized the sender's name. Jane Smith. Wasting no time I opened the message, which was short and to the point:

J: I watched them. Here's a picture. Have to go to school now.

Nodding to myself I moved on to the picture, something that turned out to be a much more satisfying piece. It portrayed a girl in her late teens with short, reddish-brown hair and a freckled face, in a small, dark room. She appeared to be locked in a closet, sitting cross legged with a laptop showing the title screens of two movies: Descent and Them. What was more, the girl's face, lit from the solitary glow of the laptop screen, was crying. Screwed up with emotion, fear, stress, and sadness seemed to be forcing their way out. As if o add to this spectacle the picture was ever so slightly blurred, as though the hand holding the camera had been shaking.

Closing my eyes I leaned back in my chair, the smile still playing across my face as I pictured the girl as she had been watching the movies. Locked in a small, dark room at 4:20 AM torturing herself with two specific horror movies. The anguish my mind's eye placed into her expression was energizing and I felt wonderfully refreshed. The girl would be going off to school now, the endings of those particular movies tormenting her all day.

All according to my will, of course. It had been her first task I'd given her in the game: Wake up at 4:20 AM and watch the linked movies in order. Send proof to administrator. Naturally I had linked those two movies on purpose. The first one, Descent was an excellent starter telling the story of a women's descent into madness. It's ending had been so horrific it had been cut by some theaters before showing. Jane had been treated to the full version though. I wasn't about to start out half-assed. Them was more specific to her situation, specifically the fact she was now going to school right after watching it. It's psychotic murders had turned out to be children, teens just about the same age as she was, finishing off by heading to school like on any normal day as if no hideous and twisted deeds had been done the night before. It would be a very interesting school day for her.

Shutting off my computer I stood up and stretched. Jane's expression of anguish and fear stuck in the back of my head rather pleasantly. Navigating my way through the semi-cluttered room, dimly lit by sunlight slipping between the partly closed window shutters, I made my way over to a small cabinet resting by the side of my bed. From the inside of which I pulled I worn, but still in good condition, notebook labeled quite obviously as my own: Philipp Budeikin's Blue Whale Game Player Log. Flipping through it to my newest participant, which was of course Jane Smith herself, I noted down her completed first task, adding a side note that it had been exceptionally successful in starting the emotional isolation process. Done, I tossed the book onto my bed and prepared to get ready for the day. It landed messily, sitting open on a random page. Somewhat irked I reached down to flip it closed, though not before noting what page it had landed on. The last page of Player seven's, Stephanie Jones', log, every task labeled as complete right down to the last one:

'Send a goodbye message and commit Suicide.'

Day 10

The sun was bright. Annoyingly bright. I really did prefer the dim interior of my room, but at the current moment I didn't really have a choice. Across from me sat Kevin Hilden, probably the only person I could relatively call a friend. He was also the reason I was to be found sitting outside at a park table under a blazing sun.

"Look, Kevin," I started, but he cut me off.

"I'm not interested in your excuses this time Philipp," He told me sternly, "I'm not obtuse enough to think you actually have money to pay rent with."

"Well what do you want then?"

"Just to talk, and hopefully it'll remind me why I bother to support you."

To this I just responded with an exasperated look. It was true Kevin had been providing me with food, electricity and the likes as I was currently living in a spare room in the apartment he ran. Supposedly I had to pay rent every month, but it'd been over a year now with no money passing between us.

"Hmmph. I'm sorry my job is nonprofit."

Kevin rolled his heavy set eyes at me. "Yeah, you 'job,' which is what, an internet game? You still doing that Blue Whale thing?"

"Of course I am, it's my life's work." I said, a note of pride in my voice. It had taken me quite a while to build up the internet community to make Blue whale possible.

"Don't you just kill people who are gullible enough to let you play mind games with them?" Kevin asked, as if trying to reason with a kid playing pretend.

"No!" I exclaimed, somewhat offended. At Kevin's continued skeptical look I hurried to explain, "Look, it's a long process. It starts before the game actually starts, but the whole purpose is to clean society of those with no value. Sort of like how you don't let certain people stay in your apartment complex because their just the trash of society. There's a whole community based around suicide I've gathered together on the internet. I get to know them, I choose a target and find out everything about them before convincing them to play. I only choose those who I deem worthless and push Suicide on them. What I'm doing is helping society in the long run."

Kevin considered this and shrugged. "Why a game anyway? If you wanted to clean society by killing people just go to their homes and kill them yourself."

This question just pulled a sigh from my lips. "Do you know how Blue whale works?"

"Of course, you give some kid a bunch of tasks then make them commit suicide."

"It's more complicated than that. The whole thing is a process, something I had to use every skill and technique I learned when studying to be a psychologist to make. I have to make them realize who they are, realize they aren't worthy to live in this world and that it would be better for them to die. No man can decide that for someone else. I may be able to see the truth of their worthlessness, but only they themselves have the right to sacrifice themselves for a better world. So I send them on a journey of self-realization, 50 days to bring out that noble desire to kill yourself and stop causing harm to the rest of society."

Kevin just shrugged again. It occurred to me how odd this might be too an onlooker. Two people sitting, relaxing at a park table talking nonchalantly about killing people. Ever since I'd started Blue Whale I'd known it would never be accepted by the public at large. But Kevin thankfully understood me, he knew I never did things without thinking it through first, even if he did make me explain why over and over again.

I yawned deeply, and Kevin chuckled. "Another long night starring at your computer playing mind games?"

"Shut up, I just got a bad night sleep"

"What, did the air conditioning break? I've been getting complaints about that old system from some of the other tenants."

"Well, it is a piece of junk but no, just a weird dream about my latest player."

"Ha, looks like she'd playing mind games on you. Careful don't go jumping off bridges now!" Kevin warned with a laugh.

It was my turn to roll my eyes. "Shut up already. It's probably just my dead conscience trying to make one last bid. I'm not about to stop anything though."

Kevin waved his had as if shooing away my determination. "Yeah yeah, tell me about this newest player anyway. You were all excited over her."

My face lit up and I pulled out my phone. 'Oh yeah, Jane's great! I haven't had someone get this into the game in a while. Check this out, it's from today's task. I had her do something to secretly tell the world she was a blue whale." I showed him my phone, now portraying a picture of a blue abstract painting with lines swirling in a peculiar pattern. Kevin didn't look very impressed, but before he could comment I pulled up a second picture, this one a live shot of a beached whale's carcass. "Look at the shape of its skull." I told him, gave it a moment, then swiped back to the painting. Now that the comparison was side by side, it suddenly became apparent that the odd swirls were not random abstract design, but a depiction of a dead whale's skull and bones. The empty eye sockets. once only seen as a swirled line, seemed to stare at whoever looked at the painting.

"Isn't that amazing? She painted that herself, Jane's an artist. Absolutely amazing, being able to hide the message of Blue whale so plainly in sight and keep it hidden. I think she's drawing more as well on her own time. Even with a task." I said excitedly, putting my phone away.

Even Kevin, who wasn't really one for art, seemed impressed, though somewhat confused. "If she's such a great artist why does she need to be cleaned from society? Isn't her talent reason enough to let her live?"

I shook my head, "There's a lot more to it than just whether or not a person is talented. But rest assured she deserves to die. I think she's realizing it faster than most is all."

Kevin shrugged again. Then his phone buzzed. Grabbing it he stood up saying, "Well, I have an appointment I need to get to. You can stay in the room for now." And he hurried off, talking fast into his phone. I mimicked him and stood up myself, heading off to the apartment complex. I really was tired of that stupid sun.

Day 20

I woke up in a cold sweat, the sheet tangled around my body, my hands clasping the blankets so tightly it actually hurt slightly. For a split second I didn't move, only stared at the nothingness that I could see with my face pressed into my pillow. Then twisted and turned, looking around the dusk-filled room wildly. She had been so near, her voice so real it couldn't have just been a dream. But as always my room was empty apart from myself.

Forcing my sheets off me I scrambled to my computer, hurriedly turning it on and going to my special message server. I needed proof Jane was where she was supposed to be, that she had done the task to herself properly. I'd fallen asleep after sending her the 20th day's task, only to be exposed to an extremely troubling dream. Somewhere inside of me I knew it was only a dream, that what I had seen couldn't have been real, but all the same my nerves refused to calm down until I'd seen the proof of today's task.

I found what I was looking for immediately, a response to my message containing the day's task. As always it contained a picture, this time of Jane's own hand and arm. At first glance both seemed to be covered in body paint, exquisite patterns and shapes, all working to emphasis the beautifully drawn whale along the length of her fore-arm. But I knew better, after all I was the one who'd told her to do this, and the truth was visible on her hands. Jane's finger nails had been clipped, clipped so far back that her fingers had bleed profusely. And each drop of crimson, sanguine liquid was used to draw that art along her arm.

Apart from successfully calming me down I found the bloody drawing rather impressive. she'd even shaded the whale slightly by thinning the blood in certain areas. Smiling at the knowledge that Jane had been able to mutilate herself so beautifully without complaint, I moved to shut the monitor off again. Only a second message from Jane caught my eye. Confused I opened and read.

J: Admin, I don't want to do this anymore. I am scared of this game. I want to Stop.

Anger flared up inside of me at the sight of the words. Nearly three weeks into the game and she thought she could just stop? Perhaps I had misjudged her. Her exquisite art had made me assume she'd been dedicated to the game but it seemed she was just a weak little girl after all. I definitely hadn't made a wrong choice in pushing the game on her.

A: You know you can't back out now. You have to finish the Game.Angered I typed my response back quickly, and to my surprise Jane's response came back almost immediately.
J:Please, I don't want to play anymore!

A: No, it's too late. You have to play. There will be consequences if you don't

J: Shut up What can you do? I don't want to play!

A: I know everything about you, Jane Smith. Don't make me do anything we might regret.

J: Why do you know my last name? Go away, you monster!

A: I told you I know everything. But you have to Play Jane. I wouldn't want to get your family involved in this.

J: Leave my family out of this! They don't have anything to do with you. and I'm not playing anymore!

A: You WILL play, or your family might start having little 'accidents.' I'm not afraid of doing it Jane, but you and your family will be punished if you try to run away from this.

J:No! Please! I just don't want to play, don't hurt anyone else!

A: If you don't want anyone else hurt you have to play Jane. It's that simple.

J: Why are you doing this? Why are you making me play such a horrible game?

A: You already know the answer to that Jane.

J: Please. Please I don't want to anymore. I know I'm not perfect but I can't take it anymore!

A: That's too bad Jane.

J: I'll fix myself! I'll do anything! Just let me stop playing!

A: I'm sorry to hear you feel like that Jane. I hope your family will still know how to smile afterward I'm done.

J: Don't do anything to my family!
J: hey come on, they don't have anything to do with this!
J: please, I don't want them hurt because of me!
J: Say something! You won't them will you?
J: Don't hurt them! Please... I'll do anything.
J: alright I'll play! I'll play the Blue Whale game just please don't hurt my family!

A: Alright. I won't hurt them, but don't try to get out of playing again, or I won't be so lenient. Goodnight.

Smiling, I exited the chat and shut off my monitor. I thought back to my dream and decided I'd been ridiculous for being scared over it. Jane couldn't harm me, I had her under my thumb afraid of me. It was true I knew quite a lot about her, I always did some extensive study into my players, so I definitely had enough information to hurt her or her family directly. Whether or not I'd actually do it, well, luckily no one had pushed me that far yet. I really did prefer to push them to do the killing themselves and keep my hands clean. It was much easier to avoid being tracked by the cops that way.

Still, as I flopped back down onto my bed I wondered what I'd do if I really had been pushed to having to do something to her family. Would I be able to do it? Going and personally hurting and killing people was a lot different than making them hurt themselves. It made me somewhat curious what killing manually would feel like. Would I feel dirty? contaminated by the blood on my hands? Or maybe it was actually more fulfilling to do it myself. Maybe it would be more like sport, where it was a test of my skills and the harder I worked to kill the more satisfaction I'd get.

Maybe I would try it sometime. Sounded fun.

Day 30

Stick 13 needles into your skin over your heart send proof to Admin
Send task.
Wait, do your daily research, planning, and general daily activities.
Get a response of proof.

This had been my cycle of life for a while now. To outsiders it would seem as though I was in a rut, simply repeating the same thing day after day. To me though the endless cycle of sending tasks and receiving proof, interrupted only by research into possible future players, was not tiring. Not by any means. It was hard work, looking into future players, and the surge of pleasure I had each time I saw a player carrying out my orders was ever present. Whether it was self mutilation, climbing to dangerously high places and listening to specific music, waking up at 4:20 AM to do deeds in the dark, or whatever task I had set that day, I always found their completion extremely fulfilling.

Today was no different. As I received and opened today's proof I was pleasantly surprised to find Jane had again added her own twist to the task. The picture, a shot of the area between the top of her breasts, featured my 13 needles stuck into her skin in the shape of a heart, presiding over the space where her actually heart was beating. A single Crimson drop, created from the combined needle pricks, fell down the interior curvature of Jane's breasts as though the heart could do no more but cry a single tear. It struck me as quite symbolic, the was the heart of pins seemed to be crying, though I expected my adolescent self would have looked past that and simply gotten excited over the skin exposure.

Shaking my head at the mental image of myself doing this as a teenager, I stripped down and got ready for the night's sleep. It really was a wonderful feeling, being able to rest for the night with such a pleasant picture in my mind's eye. The heart shedding a single tear. What a great picture! Maybe I would frame it and hang it on the wall. And with such thoughts I drifted into the oblivion of sleep.

I found myself standing in the darkness. There was nothing around me, I could not see what I was standing on, there was merely an endless, oppressive darkness. Then from behind me came the sound of heavy breathing. I whirled around and discovered none other than Jane standing there. Her redish hair falling all the way to her ankles, her head bowed to the invisible ground. She was naked, standing there in the darkness covered not in clothes but a red shining liquid, something I couldn't mistake as anything other than blood. It flowed over every part of her body from her armpits down. It dripped from her finger tips, swirled on her arms and legs in mysterious patterns, but what really drew my attention was that all seemed to come from one spot: 13 needles stabbed into her chest in the shape of a heart.

I couldn't speak, my voice wouldn't work. The blood flowing across her body cast a maleficent aura as Jane slowly raised her head, staring accusingly at me. She opened her mouth, but uttered no words. A scream, a blood curdling scream layered in the worst madness and depravity the mind can fall into emanated from her mouth. I clasped my hands to my ears but with no avail, the sound was causing me physical pain, every inch of my skin burned and screamed their own torture in response to the call of insanity.

And suddenly Jane was moving. Her mouth had closed but the scream went on and on burrowing its way into my very soul. She stepped toward me, raising her blood clad hand to her chest where the needles lay embedded in her heart and with a force and expression of horrific disgust she wrenched the pins from her skin.

Immediately the blood covering her body solidified into what appeared to be a fishtail, so that Jane appeared a crimson, blood red mermaid. She raised the needles high, and despite the darkness the blood on their sharp points seemed to shine with that terrible aura. And then I felt their sharp, cursed points pierce me as Jane thrust them down over my own heart. Blood Flowed like water from their points, faster and faster it flowed until I was suddenly found standing in a puddle of my own blood. No, not standing, sinking. Slowly I felt myself sink into the crimson liquid as Jane, waving her fishtail, which looked rather like a whale's tail. Her eyes watched me sink under my own blood with, cold, unforgiving eyes. They were the last things I saw when me head fell beneath the murderous pull of my blood.

Day 40

It was searching day. My second favorite day of the entire day. Yes today would be the day Jane went out and scouted a place to die.

The process was pretty simple. Jane had already found several sites where she could kill herself, today she'd visit each one of them and I'd choose one for her. Normally I'd choose based off of the player's history and personality. One player I'd had hang themselves off a school roof. The girl had given up everything for the school and I had felt it appropriate that the school should get her soul as well.

Jane however was going to be a special case. Originally I had planned to give her a glorious, symbolic death site, one that would fit her artistic style. But over the last few weeks I had grown to hate the girl. Nearly every night I had been tormented by nightmares of her. Often it involved retribution for a task I had given her, but occasionally they'd become wild and confusing with unrelated scenes, sometimes of police, hanged girls, tall office buildings, or many, many people staring at me.

But if there was one thing in common each dream had they all seemed to end with me dying. Whether I was drowning, decapitated, hanged, shot, or some other method each dream I watched myself die at the hands the Blue Whale Game's current player. And I was sick of it. I wanted nothing more at this point but to be rid of her and the mysterious torturing dreams that seemed to come with her. If I hadn't been so dedicated to completing the game properly I'd have killed her off early, but that would wreck the Game's system. If it got out that one of the players had been allowed to die early I'd lose control of the community and the game itself.

As such I still had 10 more days to bear her presence in my dreams. But I was going to get a small amount of revenge today. For I wasn't going to let her have just any suicide spot. It was going to be the most painful, the most humiliating spot I could find for her death. Visions of her being mauled ran through my mind, pictures of her being suffocated danced in my head, I even fancied having her carve her own heart out.

First thing was first though, I needed to go through the spots she'd already scouted out. The first few were simple enough. The railroad tracks. A back alley with an old tree she could hang herself on. A nearby pond large enough for her to drown in. In most cases these would have been excellent choices. The idea of having her hang undiscovered for days in a back alley would have been quite appealing if I was sticking to my usual picking methods. But as it were my feelings kept me from being satisfied with any of the locations.

The next one however, was perfect. At first it seemed pretty plain, simply jumping off a tall building to her death. But Jane had claimed it a was a special location so I gave her the chance to explain. Taking her phone -which was live streaming for me to see the suicide spots- Jane tilted so I could see what was below. It appeared to be a popular street square. Bands were playing, people were doing acts for money. Restaurants lined the road. It was your typical hang out point. But below the edge of the building were two very important factors: First, she wouldn't be jumping off to her death, but instead hanging herself from one of the many flagpoles jutting out of the side of the building. Second, was that she'd be hanging right in front of a large Television screen, known locally as "the big Screen" it was famous for showing live concerts in the evening and the news during the day for anyone in the square to see.

Slowly the scene dawned on me and I saw myself standing in that square, watching the big screen like many of the other night goers. When suddenly a shadow crossed its view. A young girl with Redish hair, hanging lifeless from a flagpole. Her dead body on display for the whole square to see. I could already feel a shiver running down my spine. Quickly I messaged her:

A: This is perfect. Hang yourself from those flagpoles.

J: But I was going to just jump off.

A: No, hang yourself. It will be better.

J: Alright then.

A: 10 days. It's a date.

Day 50

I was standing on the roof of a tall building. Below me I could see a plaza square full of people. They all seemed frozen, staring and pointing at something below me on the wall of the building. Why weren't they moving? Whatever they were gawking at must be something quite astonishing to have drawn so much attention.

Beside me a voice spoke. "This is your last chance, Philipp."

Turning I was surprised to see Jane, standing there bundled in a coat and scarf, also staring down at the frozen crowd. "What are you doing here?" I demanded of her. I didn't know why the sight of her made me angry, but something told me she shouldn't be here on the roof like this.

"This is where we agreed upon remember?" Jane pointed over the side of the building. Leaning over I saw a dark shape silhouetted against a large News screen. Whatever it was appeared to be hanging from a rope.

"What is that?" I asked in an astonishment mirroring those frozen down in the square.

"That's our fate, Philipp. Both of us are doomed." She responded in a straight voice, staring at me as if she could see right through my eyes into my very soul.

"But, that's impossible! You should be dead! Not me!" I argued. It simply didn't make sense. That shadowy shape could only have been Jane, suspended like a dead show animal for all to see. How could that be my fate as well?

"This is your last chance Philipp. Spare my life, allow me to live. Or this fate will be shared by both of us."

"Shut up! I am not going to be killed by some trash like yourself!"

"It's the only way Philipp." Jane kept talking in that simple, direct and honest voice. Her eyes told shimmered with a knowledge that was hidden from my own and it filled me with a deep anger that came out boiling.

"Do not mock me. you trash of this society! I am a chosen man, fulfilling a duty to the greater good, ridding the world of filth like yourself! You will be purged from this world, and I will be free from your evil clutches! Free I tell you!" And shouted at her advancing menacingly.

Jane did not flinch or back away, only looked at me with a tinge of sadness. "I'm sorry you feel that way Philipp. This was your last chance." And she turned away, walking to edge of the building in a calm, composed manner. A rope materialized around her neck as, without even a hint of hesitation, she walked off the edge and plunged to her death.

With a savage excitement I ran to the building's edge and looked over it, expecting to see the limp body of my accursed enemy hanging there. But to my surprise there was no body, no hanging girl. No suicide.

Without warning I felt a strong push on my back. My body leaned far over the edge of the building. Too far. I couldn't catch myself. And suddenly there was a rope fastened tightly around my own neck. Below me I could see every person in the square, no longer frozen, but moving, making a commotion, all pointing up at my plummeting body. I seemed to fall in slow motion, turning in midair to look up at the person who'd thrown me to my death. And there was Jane, not with the burning hatred she'd had in all the other dreams but with that same sad, pitying expression she'd worn before jumping off herself.

And then I woke, lying face down on the floor of my room.

I brought myself to sit up, my body shaking. To my surprise I found my face wet with tears. I wiped them off, glad I was alone in my room. What
had that dream been? None of the other nightmares had been like it. There had been no screaming, no torturing, no revenge, no confusion, the only similarity came in that he had, once again, died at the hands of the person who he was supposed to be killing.

Standing up I held to my computer chair to steady myself. I had decided weeks ago that I would not be scared off by mere nightmares and this one was going to be no different. sitting down I slowly logged onto my computer, and then to my message server. I needed to give Jane her final task, the one this entire 50 day long game had been leading up to: Send a goodbye message and commit suicide.

Even in my tired and shaken up state I couldn't help feel a little excited as I pulled up Jane in my messages to send her the final task. But to my surprise Jane had sent me a message already. It was labeled: Goodbye. Curious, I opened it to find nothing but a link to her facebook page. I'd seen her facebook countless times, why was she sending it to me now? I clicked the link anyway, my curiosity too powerful.

The page loaded and my mouth fell open. There was a single new post, a picture with a caption. The picture itself was a view from the top of the building she was going to suicide off of, the noose sitting obviously on the edge of the roof. The caption was only one word: Goodbye. She'd completed her 50th task. She'd finished it exactly how I had every player finish it. She'd finished it without ever being told what to do.

I felt something change in the back of my mind and I began to laugh. A wild, maniacal laugh that didn't have any sense to it. She was dead. She was dead and I was free. Jumping up from my chair I through my arms up, cheering and laughing hysterically. It was all over. Her curse would be broken now, her dead limp body hanging in the view of the whole public. And I was free.

Turning I threw myself back onto my bed. Later I would always wonder how I was able to fall asleep while my emotions were running so high, but sleep I did. I slept not knowing her death would lead to a manhunt, nor that it would lead to my capture and arrest. I didn't know it was going to lead to a life in prison until I myself committed suicide in my cell. All I knew was that that night I slept Nightmare free for the first time in fifty days.