Nerd Behind Computer Novels & Stories

I hear a small voice from behind me. I turn just in time to see little Arnold Peterman running down the hall right behind me. Arnold is one of my students, well, former students after today, and is known as the class nerd. I hated the way he was bullied and spoke to his parents often about it, but they aren't necessarily the kind of folks that stop everything and help their children out.

Camp Unplugged is certainly living up to its name, over and beyond its mission of being an Internet addiction rehabilitation center. Nate twists his hand to glance at the battery meter of the 3310. In the few seconds that the glow of the screen touches his face, it reveals his big, hazel eyes with the long eyelashes. Around them, his complexion is dark olive with warm undertones. His eyes are restless and popping as they register the last two bars of the meter. {Don’t die on me, buddy,} Nate thinks to himself. Even though the 3310 is as indestructible as Mjölnir, this particular gadget didn’t come in a box with a charger that he could’ve used behind Miss Perfect’s back.

Each one was so absorbed in their screens that they didn't even glance my way. Alessandro’s office was at the back, behind a set of black sleek wooden double doors. I made my way there, taking in the details around me. Advanced rigs, high-res monitors, fiber-optic cables running like veins through the place—it was a computer geek's paradise. The air was cool, the perfect environment for all this tech. The blonde's fingers flew over the keyboard, eyes darting over lines of scrolling code. Definitely a coding expert, probably enjoys the control in the chaos.

An invisible cog in the massive Blackwood machine. I sat down quietly at my sleek, modern desk, the familiar hum of my computer powering on a small, distant comfort. The clatter of keyboards, the low murmur of phones, the occasional burst of laughter from another department filled the open-plan office, a symphony of corporate life that felt utterly alien to my shattered state. My stomach churned, a knot of nausea twisting in my gut. My hands shook slightly as I opened my laptop, the tremor visible only to me.

"You've got like four computers running, and you're always on them... And won't let anyone see your screen, what are you doing?" He paused briefly, but didn't say anything, neither did he look my way. Then he continued, as if he didn't hear me. Relentless, I pressed. "Let me guess, a coder for hire?" His brows knitted like he was offended, but he said nothing. I smiled, finding the expression funny. I racked my brain for possible things he could be doing with multiple computers. I was suddenly reminded that this very house was in a secluded area, one wouldn't find it easily. If it wasn't for his lit bulb, I wouldn't have found it either. Could it be...

The familiar electric thrill was already building in my chest – the delicious anticipation that came with standing at the edge of a digital cliff, ready to leap into the unknown. I loved this moment. The quiet before the storm. The pause between reconnaissance and action. I could already envision Nexus’ network stretched out before me like an intricate maze, all pathways and dead ends, traps and treasures hidden in the architecture of ones and zeroes. Most people see computer systems as sterile, mechanical things. But I saw them as living organisms, each with their own personality, quirks, and vulnerabilities. His one would be arrogant – overconfident in its defenses, practically daring me t

Darla replied with a smile as she looked at the guy before she looked over at Ed and waved him over, “My computer’s been on the fritz and I need you to take a look at it. The maintenance man said he couldn’t figure it out either so I’m hopin’ that with your expertise you can.” “I’ve sorted a lot of bugs out of computers in my day.” Ed said, somewhat intentionally to show up the guy that Ed just knew was the kind of jock in high school who used to pick on him for his nerdy love for computers yet was now trying to break into the industry; as he and Darla walked off Ed just casually looked around and did his best not to look at Darla yet also tried to make it not look obvious, “This place is pr

--- ### The Crack in the Screen "You can't break this level, Kaima," the boy-voice said, but now it had a hundred echoes. "I am the **End-User**. Beyond me, there is only the 'Developer.' And the Developer is a **Ghost**." The violet light hit the walls of the kitchen. The walls didn't fall. They **Peeled**. Behind the lavender-scented kitchen, I saw a dark room. A single computer chair. A desk covered in empty soda cans. And a man, slumped over the keyboard, his face hidden by a hoodie.

It hummed with the sound of massive computing power. Sitting in the center of the room on a simple ergonomic chair was a man. He was young, perhaps in his late twenties, with messy dark hair and thick framed glasses. He was wearing a hoodie and sweatpants, typing furiously on a keyboard. This was the Ghost. Not an old veteran, but a kid. Adrian stopped at the edge of the server farm. "Silas Vane. Meet the Ghost." The kid stopped typing. He spun his chair around. He looked at Silas, then at Leo. He pushed his glasses up his nose.

I stood at a stove, bare feet on tile. No wires. No hospital smell. Niko moved around the space with easy familiarity, nudging me away from the pan when I got distracted. Lucien leaned in a doorway on a screen, smirking his way through a board meeting before muting to ask my opinion on some clause. Mila texted pictures of a toddler with a ridiculous amount of hair. Dante and Jax spammed a group chat labeled *Idiots*. In the background, the Neural Integrity Network hummed as a thing that existed but didn’t constantly demand triage.