It all began with: "Hey what's your wifi password?" I thought it was an unusual request from someone i had only been talking to a couple days on private chat. He seemed like a nice guy, but still, why would he want that? To get into my laptop somehow? To steal my stuff? Personal pics or account numbers?
"What's yours?" I answered, thinking there was no way he would give it. I was wrong.
"aaaccenssst" he typed out.
"You're trusting," I responded, not buying that this string of nonsense was an actual password.
"I'm a good reader of people."
"I'm not," I confessed, then added, "LOL."
"Oh, it's easy. Reading people is just discerning what they want."
"Okay, so what do I want right now?"
He sent me an emoji. A surprised face with a question mark over it's head.
"See you don't know," I teased.
A few minutes passed and he didnt answer. I was beginning to wonder if I offended him. Just as I was getting ready to type again, he responded.
"You want to meet me in person."
I thought to myself that sounded conceited, but i couldn't deny it. He was right. I really wanted to meet him. He had interested me over our few previous chats. At times, I had marvelled at how compatible we sounded. We had a lot of common interests. Sometimes he could finish what I was going to say, like long time lovers who knew each other's heart and mind. When I told him my zodiac sign during our very first texting, he had rattled off all my characteristics and traits in a personal way. If he hadn't been so accurate, I probably would have accused him of just copying it from that day's newspaper horoscope. With all that in mind, I couldn't very well lie to him now. We'd gotten too close for that.
"Yes I do," I typed back, waited a moment, and then added, "very much."
I winced over that last part. I wasn't usually that forward or desperate sounding. But he was really under my skin. Even when we weren't chatting, I was thinking about him. I often found myself staring at his profile pic, tall, dark, and so handsome there had to be hundreds of girls trying to chat him up. If that was his real photo of course. I was aware of that possibility, but his profile pic at least gave me something to focus on while we texted.
"Is your profile the real thing?" I typed, when he didn't respond to my last statement. "I know your profile name is Morning Bub, but that's about it. Is it really you in the pic?"
"Do you want to find out?"
"Yes," I answered in nervous hesitation.
"Type in your wifi password."
There it was again. Wanting a password. This made me suspicious all over again. "Why?"
"So we can meet."
"You don't need my wifi for that," I typed. "You know, on second thought, why don't we just stop chatting..."
"Type in mine."
This stopped me. Why did he want me to do that? I'm no technology genius, but I didn't understand what this would do. Access his wifi? I still didn't believe the jumble of words was a real security password, but he urged me on, like a dare.
"Go ahead. Type it and press enter."
I scrolled back up in our conversation to get his password, to make sure I got it right. aaaccenssst. I started typing then stopped. Something didn't look right. Something about the letters of his password. All those a's and s's seemed to jump out at me and say wait girl, don't look too close. I noticed his password was in alphabetical order. I'd never known anyone do that before. It was odd. To me it looked like a line from one of those word jumble puzzles from the newspaper. My dad worked these every morning at the breakfast table. Sometimes I even helped.
"Go ahead," he prodded. "Type it, girl."
That last text made it seem urgent, like a junkie waiting for his drug to kick in. He really wanted me to enter his password. My fingers hovered over the keys again. That's when my eyes started putting the letters in place. One by one they fell in correct order in my head. A. C. C. E. S. S.
I looked at the keys. I hadn't typed out what my brain was deciphering, but I had typed the first six letters from the original jumble. I could almost imagine the guy in the profile pic grinning anxiously, as if this password were a key to a prison door. And that's when the last part of the password became clear in my mind. S.A.T.A.N.
Suddenly his user name made sense. Morning Bub. It hadn't been a greeting as I originally thought. It wasn't like, Good morning, Bub. No it was MORNING star. And beezelBUB. Morning star and beezelbub. Two names for Lucifer. Two names for Satan.
I shut down the chat window. Before he could type anything else, I turned the laptop off and unplugged it from the wall. My heart was racing in terror. I didn't know if he had been a crazy stalker or the devil in the flesh. All I knew was this conversation was over and he could find someone else to release him. Someone else to let him into their room, and possibly the world. The scariest thing about all that was I knew it wouldn't take him long to find a willing participant.