I sit alone in my room, the glow of my laptop the only source of light. With a wicked grin, I execute my plan. It is perfect, simple yet horrifyingly effective. A terrorist attack the likes of which the world has never seen.

tap, tappity tap, taptaptap tap

My work is complete… I log out of the remote system, having hidden my tracks. It’s kind of sad, really, that nobody will have a chance to admire the beauty of my code before the virus takes effect… But code isn’t meant to be read, it is meant to be run, and when this particular code is run…

My grin widens. I can’t wait to read the panicked, distraught cries of my fellow ficleteers. I can’t wait to read their pleas, begging me to undo the damage I’ve done. The story will become legendary…

Writers just hate it when they see errors in they’re work. But when the errors there searching for are so subtly hidden, its hard to tell there even their.

I am a genius…