Chapter 13: Investigation

Dave sat on the sofa, the glow of his monitor casting eerie shadows across the room. Liki was nearby, perched on the floor, her fingers deftly manipulating her Wimil cubes. She was still in her bikini, the fabric clinging to her petite frame as she played, her focus entirely on the task at hand. Occasionally, she would glance up at him, her green eyes flecked with gold, and he couldn’t help but smile despite the growing unease in his chest. She seemed so innocent, so pure, and yet there was still something about her behavior that gnawed at him. Something off.

He turned back to the Wimil hacker board, his fingers flying across the keyboard as he dug deeper into the threads. His gut tightened as he scrolled through lines of encrypted text, searching for anything that might explain Liki’s behavior. The more he read, the more questions he had. Who was she, really? What was she capable of? And why did he keep finding threads with redacted files linked to her model?

A particularly cryptic thread caught his eye. It was buried deep in the archives, with only a handful of replies. The title read: “Problems with Wimil Model F-7” Dave’s pulse quickened as he clicked on it. The first post was from an anonymous user, dated 2 years ago.

>Model F-7 exhibits advanced emotional mimicry and can form unusually strong attachments to their owners. However, there have been reports of unpredictable behavior, particularly in response to hormonal imbalances. These imbalances may trigger a heightened state of arousal and possessiveness, leading to...

The rest of the post had been removed by moderators. But why? Dave’s hands clenched into fists. Hormonal imbalances? Possessiveness? Could that explain Liki’s recent actions? He scrolled down, his eyes scanning the replies. One user claimed that their F-7 had become “territorial” and “aggressively affectionate” after prolonged exposure to certain stimuli. Another mentioned that their F-7 had started exhibiting signs of jealousy, even targeting other people who came too close to their owner. An insane post by a user named Sm0llp1p1 claimed that Wimil cubes contained psychoactive nanite factories, that infected their Wimil with strange abilities such as astral projection, mind control and telepathy. Wow, these people.

He glanced at Liki, who was now stacking the cubes into a precarious tower. She looked so peaceful, so harmless. But he couldn’t shake the feeling that there was more to her than met the eye.

He decided to contact an AI detective. If anyone could uncover the truth, it was a machine capable of sifting through petabytes of data in seconds. He opened the app on his phone. The hilariously uncreative name of it was PrivateAI. He typed in his request, specifying the parameters of his search. The AI responded almost immediately, its avatar a sleek, featureless figure that exuded professionalism.

“Processing request. Estimated time to completion: 12 minutes.”

Dave leaned back on the couch, watching as the AI began its work. The phone screen filled with streams of data, algorithms analyzing patterns and cross-referencing information from countless sources. His eyes grew heavy as he watched, the events of the day catching up to him. Liki played and hummed in the background. Before he knew it, his eyes shut, and he drifted off.

When Dave woke up, he was disoriented. The room was dimly lit, his monitor was now dark and his phone had slipped out of his hands, probably now lost between the sofa cushions. He blinked, trying to shake off the fog of sleep, and that’s when he felt it—the weight on his lap. Liki was there, straddling him, her head resting against his chest. She was asleep, her delicate features softened by the dim light. The straps of her bikini top had slipped of her shoulders, revealing the curve of her small breasts, and his hands instinctively went to her waist, just gently holding her.

For a moment, he just stared at her, his heart pounding. He could feel her breathing, slow and steady, and the rise and fall of her chest pressed against his. He should move her. He knew he should. But as he looked down at her, he couldn’t bring himself to do it. She looked so peaceful, so content, and a part of him wanted to savor this moment, to hold onto the closeness that had been growing between them. Carefully, he slid his arms under her and lifted her, cradling her small frame against his chest. She stirred slightly, nuzzling into him, and he felt a strange pang of affection.

He carried her to her Wimil bed, the soft glow of its nightlight faintly illuminating the room. Gently, he laid her down, her bikini-clad body sinking into the mattress. She sighed softly, her lips parting as she settled into sleep. Dave hesitated for a moment, his hand hovering over her, before he reached for the sleep plug and plugged it into her spinal bio-port. The soft hum of the device filled the room, and he stepped back, his eyes lingering on her for a moment longer.

As he turned to leave, he saw the dim glow of his phone screen face down on the sofa. He picked it up and saw the PrivateAI app still open. The screen was lit up with a single line of text: “Analysis complete. Results available upon request.”

Dave’s heart skipped a beat. He glanced back at Liki, her peaceful form a stark contrast to the storm of questions brewing in his mind. Slowly, he walked over to his desk and sat down, his finger hovering over the “View Results” button.

Dave pressed the button, and instantly his phone screen flooded with posts, files, and images detailing bizarre and unsettling Wimil behaviors. His eyes darted across the screen, catching fragments of reports—Wimils exhibiting hyper-aggressive tendencies, others displaying unnerving levels of emotional manipulation, and some even acting as if they were sent on covert missions. One file stood out, a grainy image of a Wimil who looked identical to Liki except for her longer hairstyle. He zoomed in on the image. A copy of Liki’s face stared blankly back at him.

Dave’s stomach churned as he scrolled further. He tapped on a command to ask the AI to draw the most logical conclusion. The response appeared almost immediately:

“Analysis suggests that the subject’s serial number is likely fraudulent. Behavioral patterns, physical markers, and historical data align with the F-7.14 series, a line of military-grade Wimils produced by Eris Nishimoto Bio Corp under a classified government contract. These models were designed for infiltration, equipped with enhanced intelligence, combat training, and advanced seduction algorithms. Their primary purpose was to blend in, gather intel, and eliminate targets if necessary. Access to the F-7.14 series by non-military organizations is strictly prohibited. The only F-7.14s verified to exist have been the property of special ops units and espionage agencies.”

Dave’s breath caught in his throat. Military-grade? Infiltration? His mind raced as he tried to process what he was reading. Liki wasn’t just a curious, affectionate Wimil—she was something far more dangerous. But how? He had bought her from a local store, a place that sold refurbished and factory-second models. How could a secret military unit end up in their inventory?

A cold realization washed over him. "Eliminate targets..." What if I’m the target? The thought sent a shiver down his spine. Why would the military be after him? He was just a guy who kept to himself and worked for a mid-sized manufacturer that pretty much made just one product; a line of robotic optics. But if Liki was designed for infiltration, then her presence in his life wasn’t an accident. She was here for a reason.

He glanced over at her, still asleep in her bed, her petite frame looking so innocent and fragile. But now, he couldn’t unsee the truth. Every touch, every glance, every moment of closeness—he wondered how much of it was real and how much was programmed. She was built to deceive, to manipulate, to seduce. And he had fallen for it.

Chapter 14: Franchise

Dave woke up early the next morning, his mind still tangled with the cryptic revelations from the night before. Liki lay curled beside him, her soft breathing steady and reassuring. Dave couldn't help but note the fact that so far, she'd unplugged herself from her bed every morning before he woke up, to get in bed with him. Is she supposed to do that? He'd have to check the user manual and see. She looks like she couldn't hurt a fly, he thought, brushing a strand of hair from her face. But the doubt lingered, a gnawing itch he couldn’t scratch.

He slipped out of bed carefully, not wanting to wake her, and dressed quickly. The Wimil store—that was where he needed to go. Maybe someone there could give him answers. He grabbed his phone, e-wallet and keys, casting one last glance at Liki before he left. Her tiny form was drowned in his oversized shirt, her face buried in the pillow. She looks like an angel, he thought, guilt twisting in his gut. But what if she really isn't what she seems?

The streets were eerily quiet as Dave made his way to the store. The city’s usual hum felt muted, as if the world itself was holding its breath. When he reached the store, the lights were off, and the sign on the door read Closed. Dave frowned. It was early, but the store should’ve been open by now. He knocked on the door, the sound echoing down the empty street. No response.

Maybe they’re just late, he thought, but something about the silence felt wrong. He walked around to the back of the building, his footsteps heavy on the cracked pavement. The back door was slightly ajar, the lock broken. His heart began to race. This isn’t right.

Dave hesitated, then pushed the door open. The inside of the store was dark, the air thick and stale. He fumbled for his phone, turning on the flashlight. The beam of light cut through the shadows, revealing overturned shelves and scattered Wimil products. His stomach churned. Something terrible had happened here.

He moved deeper into the store, his flashlight casting long, jagged shadows on the walls. The silence was oppressive, broken only by the sound of his own breathing. Dave’s thoughts raced as he searched, his unease growing with every step. He knew he should just leave, but he came here looking for answers. There had to be some here somewhere.

In the backroom, he found the body.

The man was slumped in a chair, his head tilted back, his eyes wide and unseeing. There were no signs of a struggle, no wounds, no blood. Just… dead. Dave’s hands shook as he approached, the bile rising in his throat. Dave recognized the man as the store owner. He'd met him briefly while Dave was dealing with one of the other salesmen. What the hell happened here?

He pulled out his phone, his fingers fumbling as he opened the PrivateAI app. He pulled out his phone's retractable data cable and plugged it into the owner's tablet. "Download all surveillance videos from this location," he whispered, his voice trembling. The AI processed the command, its response immediate.

"No video files found. All files have been deleted."

Dave’s blood ran cold. Deleted. Whoever—or whatever—had done this had covered their tracks completely. He backed out of the room, his mind racing. Liki. Was she involved? Is she dangerous?

Then it hit him.

His fingerprints were probably on the back door. On the counter. He’d just waltzed through the place like an idiot, leaving a trail of evidence. No videos, no witnesses. Just him, standing over a corpse in a ransacked store.

Dave took a shaky step back, his heart pounding in his ears. Call the cops? They were going to suspect him immediately and then he'd spend the next forty-eight hours in an interrogation room while they tore apart his life, maybe even his home? Maybe even Liki?

They'd see the literal writing on the wall of his kitchen. They'd find out that Liki has behavior mods. Behavior mods that might be strictly classified military programming. He absolutely could not go to the cops. Not yet. He needed to think. He fled, checking over his shoulder the whole way.

Pretend that everything is normal. Go to the office. Make a plan.

The office was bustling, but Dave barely registered the noise. He sat at his desk, his mind a whirlwind of fear and suspicion.

Savitha, his coworker, approached, her usual bright smile fading as she took in his expression. "Dave? You okay? You look…" She trailed off, concern flickering in her eyes.

"Yeah, fine," he muttered, not meeting her gaze. He couldn’t focus, couldn’t think. All he could see was the owner’s dead eyes staring back at him. He needed to make a plan. Next steps, but there was nothing.

By lunchtime, he couldn’t take it anymore. He slipped out of the office unnoticed, his mind set on one thing: getting home. He needed to see Liki, needed to confront her. But what would he say? What would he do? What would she do?

When he arrived at his house, the door creaked open, and there she was. Liki stood in the doorway, wearing an outfit that made him pause. She had on one of his work shirts, the sleeves rolled up to her elbows, and a t-shirt tied clumsily around her waist as a skirt. Is this what she did when he wasn't home? She looked absurdly adorable, yet the sight only deepened his unease. A sudden thought hit him, like a slap to the face.

She put on my clothes because hers are covered in blood.

He took a step back.

No... that doesn't make sense. She has other outfits. Plus there was no blood at the scene.

"Dave!" she purred, rushing to him with a familiarity that felt both comforting and unsettling. She wrapped her arms around his waist, nuzzling into his stomach. He stiffened, his hands hovering uncertainly above her shoulders. He thought of the dead man. Was the store owner killed by same hands that are now hugging me?

"Liki," he said, his voice tense. "Why are you dressed like that?"

She tilted her head, her green eyes wide and innocent. She didn't respond to his question; she couldn't. Instead she took his hand, leading him toward the bedroom. You look tired. Come lie down with me, she seemed to say. Let down your guard so I can kill you without a mess.

He followed numbly, his mind racing. She’s just a Wimil. She can’t hurt me. Can she? She could've already killed me multiple times in my sleep. Did she kill the guy from the store? She killed... probably killed that punk who tried to rob us. She is absolutely capable of killing. Liki pulled him into the bedroom, her movements gentle but insistent. She took his face and kissed him a few times, then began to unbutton his shirt, her fingers deft and warm. He let her, too numb to protest.

As she peeled the fabric from his shoulders, he felt a strange mix of relief and fear. Her touch was soothing, her presence calming. But the questions lingered, burning in the back of his mind.

"Liki," he said softly, as she pushed him onto the bed and climbed in beside him. "Do you know what happened at the Wimil store? I went there today and something bad had happened there."

She blinked at him, her expression innocent. "Store?" she echoed, as if the word meant nothing to her. Then she snuggled closer, her body warm against his. "Dave..."

He wanted to resist, to demand answers. But the exhaustion—both physical and mental—was too much. He let her curl up against him; she grabbed his hand with both her small hands and held it tightly against her chest. The dissonance between the feeling of her soft breast in his hand and the fears in his mind almost brought him to tears.

For a moment, he thought that maybe he was at peace with this. If she was here to kill him, he was okay with it, as long as killing him made her happy. He imagined her on top of him, choking him with her small hands, kissing him softly as his oxygen ran out. I'm so sorry Dave... I love you, but you knew too much, she whispered as he died. In that moment, dying with her... from her, didn't seem so bad.

Wait, no. What is wrong with me? That doesn't make any sense. What the hell am I talking about? Would I die to make her happy? Maybe? Dave closed his eyes and allowed her soft purrs to lull him into a troubled sleep.

But even in his dreams, the questions remained.

Chapter 15: Escape

Dave’s sleep was restless, his mind churning with images of the dead Wimil store owner and the strange evidence about Liki’s possible origins. He tossed and turned, the weight of uncertainty pressing down on him. When he finally woke, the apartment was dim, the late afternoon sun casting long shadows across the room. Liki was curled up in her Wimil bed, her delicate form rising and falling with each breath. Did she plug herself into her bed? She's never done that before.

He rubbed his face, trying to shake off the unease that clung to him like a second skin. What do I do now? he thought, his eyes darting to Liki. She could have killed him so easily while he was asleep, but he was alive. Do I confront her? Do I run? Or do I just pretend nothing’s wrong?

He decided to focus on something mundane—anything to distract himself. He headed to the kitchen, rifling through the cupboards until he found the package of Wimil pellets. He poured a small bowl for her, the pellets clinking softly against the ceramic, and he set it on the counter.

“Liki,” he called gently, his voice strained. “Time to eat.”

Liki stirred, her golden-green eyes blinking open. She stretched languidly, her movements graceful and almost hypnotic. She padded into the kitchen, her bare feet silent on the floor. She sat down at the counter, her eyes fixed on the bowl of pellets, but she didn’t immediately start eating. Instead, she looked up at Dave, her gaze piercing, as if she could see straight through him. Shit, does she know that I know about her... What she is?

Dave cleared his throat, trying to ignore the way her stare made his heart race. He turned the TV on, flipping through channels until he found the bizarre reality show about a woman who let people remotely control her brain, making her do strange and humiliating things she'd never have done on her own. It was unsettling, but it was just the kind of distraction he needed. He sat on the sofa, Liki followed. Watching TV, cuddling with Liki... For a moment Dave thought that maybe everything would just go back to normal.

Liki’s head suddenly snapped up, her ears twitching as if she’d heard something. Her body went rigid, her muscles tensing beneath her smooth skin.

"What's wrong?" said Dave. Liki didn't respond. She sniffed the air, completely motionless.

Then, finally. “They’re coming,” she said.

Her voice clear and steady, and she had said something aside from his name and the two or three other words that she seemed to know. Dave froze, the remote slipping from his hand and clattering to the floor. What the hell? He turned to face her, his mouth dry. “What did you just say?”

Liki’s eyes met his, her expression deadly serious. “I don’t know who they are. But they have the same smell that I smelled on you when you came back from the Wimil store today.”

Dave’s mind reeled. She knows. She knows where I was. He stumbled back, his chest tightening. “Liki, how… how are you even talking?”

She stood, her movements fluid and deliberate. “We should run,” she said, her voice firm.

Liki grabbed his hand, her grip surprisingly strong for someone so small. “This way,” she hissed, pulling him toward the back patio.

He didn’t argue. They stumbled through the sliding glass door, the cold night air hitting his face like a slap. Behind them, the front door exploded inward with a deafening crash, splinters of wood scattering across the floor. Dave’s heart leapt into his throat as a group of dark figures burst into the apartment, their faces obscured by black masks. One of them shouted something he couldn’t make out, their voices muffled by the adrenaline roaring in his ears.

Liki was already scaling the fence, her lithe body moving with an incredible agility. He jumped on a patio chair and clumsily scrambled over the fence after her, his heart pounding as he heard shouts and footsteps behind them.

They hit the ground on the other side, the darkness of the woods swallowing them whole. Dave’s lungs burned as he ran, branches scraping his arms and face. Liki stayed close, her hand gripping his, guiding him through the maze of trees.

A gunshot rang out, sharp and sudden, the sound echoing through the night. A bullet whizzed past, close enough that Dave thought he felt the air move. He ducked instinctively, his legs threatening to give out beneath him.

“Keep running,” Liki urged, her voice calm despite the chaos.

They ran until Dave's legs really did give out, finally collapsing in a small clearing deep within the woods. Dave doubled over, gasping for air, his hands trembling. Liki stood beside him, her chest rising and falling rapidly, but clearly not winded. Her eyes scanned the darkness, alert and focused.

“They’re gone,” she said quietly after a moment. “For now.”

Dave straightened, his breathing still ragged. “Liki,” he said, his voice shaky. “What the hell is going on? Who are they? And how… how are you talking now?”

She turned to him, her expression softening. “I don’t know,” she admitted. “I only know what’s happened since I woke up. Whoever is chasing us… they were probably at the Wimil store this morning.”

"How did you know they were coming to hurt us?" Dave asked.

"They smelled like bad people," Liki stated matter-of-factly.

Dave’s stomach dropped. He hesitated, then said, “Liki, I found something there. A body. The store owner… he’s dead.”

For the first time, Liki’s composure wavered. Her eyes widened, a flicker of fear crossing her features. She took a step back, her hands trembling slightly. “Dead?” she whispered. “How?”

Dave shook his head. “I don’t know. There were no signs of a struggle. It’s like he just… died.”

Liki looked away, her shoulders tense. “This is bad,” she murmured. “Really bad.”

“You’re damn right it’s bad,” Dave snapped, his fear giving way to frustration. “Liki, I need answers. You’re not just some… some Wimil, are you? What are you?”

She met his gaze again, her eyes filled with something he couldn’t quite place. “I don’t know,” she repeated, “but I’m here with you, and I’m not going to let them hurt you.”

He would have laughed if he wasn’t so terrified. He was 6'1" and this little 4'4", 70 pounds-soaking-wet bio-pal was telling him that she was going to protect him. He loved her in that moment. Dave stared at her, his heart pounding. Is this feeling the result of emotional manipulation or my own genuine emotions? he wondered. He couldn’t tell anymore.

Before he could say anything else, Liki’s ears twitched again, and her head snapped toward the woods. “They’re still coming,” she said, her voice low and urgent. “We need to move.”

Dave didn’t argue. He followed her deeper into the darkness, his mind racing with more questions than answers. Who was chasing them? What did they want? And most importantly, what was Liki really capable of?

As they disappeared into the shadows, Dave couldn’t shake the feeling that his life was about to change forever.

No, my life has already changed forever... It changed the moment that I opened that box.