8026,

8026.

Conspiracy theories. Oh man, how they used to make me laugh, a load of angry nerds prophesying “the end”, in any shape or form, arguing over how we were going to die next. It was always the government too, attempting to “protect us” when all they were really doing was attempting to leach information from alien brains. Oh how I used to find them funny.
Used to.
I am button operator 8026. I oversee and protect the button. Normally I wouldn't be able to tell you where I am, but since I’m going to die in, uh, let me check. 30 minutes. Hooray. I have half an hour to live, and I decided to write. Oh god I’m original. Anyway, let me tell you where I am. I don’t know where I am. They didn't even have the decency to tell me. I guess I’m underground, but that would be hard to tell, since I've got these cool window things. The T.V they gave me says they've only just been released into the world above (I’m just going to agree with myself that I’m underground) recently, and to the very rich. I've had mine for exactly 20 years and 36 days. They scene what mood I’m in and project it into the appropriate weather. At the moment it’s snowing, but the T.V says there are fire and ash all over new York, London and Tokyo. The other cities don’t even get a mention, none of them hold a shield. Well, I guess earth has even less time to live than myself, but I’m just estimating. I only press the button if its for certain that earth has fallen, and at the moment it looks like we are putting up a very good resistance. Man, I hope those are our cannons. I don’t want to press the button. They assigned me to be the latest operator, but I didn't think I would have to do anything like this. Not that I had a choice in the job. And now I’m sitting here like what the hell do I do. They wont pick up the phone. I can call one number, all others are blocked, and its unresponsive. Great, they really left me in the dark this time. Should I push the button?

Conspiracy theories. Man, they make me and my mates laugh so much! In our free time its always fun to mess with the nerds on internet forums, area 51 this, Bermuda triangle that. Oh man, and when they get angry it is the funniest thing! Did you know that me and Steve are the creators of a certain famous conspiracy that spiraled out of control? No? ever heard of the “red streetlight”? we got tonnes of people to believe that when streetlights do that red thing before they properly go on at night? That’s them scanning for alien life forms, and if they detect one they go all turret on it. It was hilarious! Some guys in the U.S wont even walk down their roads now, afraid that their streetlights will turn into chain-gun mode! How many times did we laugh at those memories while on XBOX playing some shooter game? it was incredibly funny, until the man came. Just knocked on my door one evening, asked to speak to me. My mum was pushed aside as she tried to ask for an explanation, and when she asked him to leave she was shown a badge. I couldn't see it, but just one look at it shut her up. This man must be from high up, he even wore one of those all grey silk suits that only really important people wore. Then it twigged. The red streetlight was real, and the government had sent this man to come and shut me up! He walked into my room and slid the door closed. I was expecting him to pull a gun on me, but when his hand came out his pocket, it brought a sheet of paper and pen with it, not any form of firearm I could see.
“hello Mr. Wallgate, I am from the U.S government. Don’t even try to question my authority here in London, trust me I could pull a few strings here and there and you could be dead the next time you walk to school. Don’t worry though, I’m not here with bad news, in fact I have a job offer for you. Unfortunately there is a bit of a waiting list, so I cant assign you to your post just yet, however I will need you to sign this “he slipped me the sheet “just at the bottom, and I’m sure you will see us shortly.”
It wasn't an offer or a question, it was an order. What choice did I have? I signed, and he smiled. He took back the sheet and neatly folded it back into his blazer. For a second, I swore I could see a shoulder holster with a glint of metal within, but a stern glare from the man forced me to shift my gaze. He left the room without saying goodbye. As I heard the door downstairs close I breather out, and realized that I had been holding my breath.

It was after that day that my family stopped talking to me.

Button operator manual 
1. Under no circumstances push the button.
2. Remain calm and composed during your time as operator, if you are suspected of losing mental stability the monitor assigned will withdraw you.
3. Keep updated with the news.
4. Do not insult the monitor, or it will learn this custom and make it unpleasant for future operatives. 
5. Under no circumstances push the button.
6. If anyone comes into the rooms and tells you to push the button, ignore them. They are a hallucination.
7. If you are called and told to push the button, do not.
8. Do not tamper with the tech
9. If you look like you are accidently going to lean on the button, the monitor assigned will withdraw you.
10. UNDER NO CIRCUMSTANCES PUSH THE BUTTON.

“about time”
“look at the state of you”
“you said I’d see you shortly!”
“the previous operative took longer to expire than planned”
“you could have sent word, then I would have tried to find other meantime work”
“you are jobless?”
“jobless? Yes. and homeless”
“then welcome, button operator 8026.”

When I came to I gasped. The room was… cool. There was no other way to describe it. Gadgets and tech I had never seen before surrounded the outside of a large white circular chamber with large windows looking out on a raging thunderstorm. In the centre was a large red button. A small desk with laptop and computer, a bookshelf and a comfy bed that I was perched on were the only thing I recognised that didn’t look like something out a sci-fi movie. Seriously, robot arms!? How advanced was this place? That keyboard looked like it has about 30 extra keys? When am I ever going to need to learn or read Japanese in this place? Its not that I’m not going to have free time on my hands, its just I don’t need to speak Swahili to press a red button. And that’s all the job requires. Pressing a button.
Just once.
I stand, bare feet feeling cool against the white tile floor. My beard is shaved and so is my head, so bald, but a decent length. I’m wearing a white shirt and black tie and trousers, and I’m feeling incredibly clean and warm. I take a little lap around the button. When I complete the circuit I stop and stare at it, cocking my head to the left. How long did that contact say I had to stay again? There was no door. Claustrophobia kicked in and I feverishly scanned the walls for an exit, but to no avail. Maybe there is voice activation, I thought, so casually I whispered; “hello” nothing happened. Feeling like an idiot even though no one was there, I cursed out loud, and kicked a table littered with tech junk.
“please stop those feelings and acts of aggression”
I stopped. Turned. Faced the blue light glowing on the wall. It shimmered as the voice came from it.
“greetings operative 8026. Welcome to what the previous occupant, 8025, called ‘hell’”
A talking orb in the wall. Now THAT was cool.

I ended up beating monitor 116 to a pile of scrap. That was another thing that annoyed me about this place, the constant use of numbers. Everything must be cataloged and turned into data that is logged and kept in some book in some government place that I will never see because I’m insignificant and worthless. At least that was what monitor thought of me, if it could even think thoughts that were not data script, programmed to cause feelings of anger in me. Well, we soon saw who was insignificant when he met Mr. Spanner, my trusty club I found in a toolbox under a bench. When his remains fizzed and broke, a new orange light emerged from the wall space on the other side of the room, right next to the Mona Lisa that I’m still trying to work out if its real. And if she’s smiling or frowning. The light quickly identified itself as monitor 117, and after that it didn't talk much more. Maybe its just shy, but I think its spiteful and is punishing me with silence for the destruction of its brother. If they were even related.
It’s snowing today, and a calm chill has set about the room. I stalk around the button in the center, sipping a mug of cocoa and trying not to think of how many days I've been In here. I place the half finished mug on my table next to my bed and cross over to a light blue box with a lever on it. Upon pulling the lever, all grime and sweat is instantly absorbed by the box, rendering me clean. It took me ages to find the dam box the first time, only after reading the operator’s manual did I find the “cleaning box”, and that was only after I has been walking round for months and 116 bullied me about my smell. Like it even has a scent function. Stupid light thing.

Man, I do have too much time on my hands. If time even exists. Today it is cloudy, but I know its not real, that’s just my emotions being read by 117 and cast onto the “windows”. I guess cloudy represents confusion, but I see rain in the distance. What does that mean? I pace the room, and flick through a book I have read 7 times. I throw it at a table. Then i go and pick it up again and place it carefully on a shelf, picking up the T.V remote with my other hand. I have robot arms that dress me, a box that cleans me without getting wet, but I still need a remote to turn on the T.V. I think I really should have like a cool wristband I control everything with, or even better I just control everything in the room with my mind! That would be fun. Sighing as I flop in the chair that has molded to my butt over years, I have a browse of what is on. The news, more encounters with blurred shots of the president shaking hands with one of them, cutting to a worried reporter who blurts scripted lines and opinions at the camera, his sweat making is make-up look shiny and moist. Ignoring him I flip through a tech Manuel. There are too many of these lying about, I really should clear them up, but an armband that controls the machinery in the room would be really cool… an advert comes on about these new boxes that clean you with a pull of a lever. The public and reporter seem amazed by this feat, but I don’t even bat an eyelid. Just how advanced IS the tech in here!? Just then the phone rings. I stop and look at it. It’s never done that before. Confused and feeling like I shouldn't be doing this, I reach for it and take it off the receiver and place it upon my ear.
“get ready operative, stand by on the button.”