New year, new me.

Literally.

The microchip inserted between the veins at the back of my neck made a new me. Or rather, saved me. It's use pertains to saving a person's thoughts so that they can live forever; stored into a computer mainframe for further generations. Sounds advanced until the glitches kick in.

They started off small; a few details in a memory lost or the usual 'why did I enter this room?' thought. Then they started to grow. Soon no one could remember what year it was. Eventually everyone had to keep journals to keep track of the date and their lives.

When a program glitches, however, there are aftereffects. Manipulation in coding, slow running, overheating, etc. But not even I could have predicted what the glitches would create.

Reflections. Human copies stored into the chip. They-- like the glitches-- started small, but then they grew. Some didn't survive the upload, some did. Those who did were the unlucky ones.

The glitches formed into human figures of electricity. Their bodies ran on code and the life of its host. After many attempts it was found that the only way to kill the reflections was to kill the host. If you were lucky the chip would be extracted and you would live, but most people weren't lucky.

Soon there were a hoard of them; all tracking down their hosts to absorb them. As they are part of the chips, they can locate their host within weeks and then transfer the data. Replace themselves. Swap positions.

I instead fight. To rid myself of my demon I know I must remove my chip, but it has to be executed with the utmost precision. But precision was no longer an option.

The reflections had found our sanctuary and attacked. Many died, others were defeated by their reflection. I, with some others, remained in the tower to remove our chips, but time was running out.

A woman screams for her chip to be extracted, then falls to the ground lifeless. Her husband, now distraught, pulls out his gun and shoots the man who killed his wife. Then he aims the muzzle at his head and pulls the trigger.

I'm left with one other female. She's hunched in the corner crying. I steady her by her shoulders and then begin to cut the skin at the back of her neck. She screams, but I continue.

"I have to do this." I remind her.

With tears she nods. A mountain of sparks suddenly erupt through the incision I've made and the woman shrieks. Her eyes turn black. Her pulse stops. She's been replaced.

I run for the gun near the dead husband, but the reflection tackles me. We fight, but I lose. She shoots me through the heart and I can hear the glitches in my chip.

My memories fade in my mind. They twist and form into new thoughts. Corrupted thoughts. And the last thing I see is my reflection in her black eyes.