Windows XP Second Edition

That day remains etched in my memory... April 8th, 2014. The day when Microsoft pulled support for my favourite operating System, Windows XP. I loved that operating system. I owned a copy of it when it came out in 2001, in fact I was in the first line for it when it was released in London for the first time ever, aged only five and piggybacking atop my father's shoulders. I used the operating system right up until that day.

For days after they pulled the plug, I wept. I ran to my room, and I cried. I wished and wished and wished that there was something I could do.

After days on end of constant rage and sorrow, I had an idea. If Microsoft wasn't going to update Windows XP, I would do so myself. I may be a doctor, but I am an avid technician too.

Lots of people make pirated versions of Windows, called Black Editions...I studied long and hard on how to make one, and then I got to work. I opened my C++ Editor, and began coding in the changes. I then added a new bootscreen, Microsoft Office 2010, WindowBlinds and various other things.

When it was ready, I christened it as Windows XP Second Edition. I was so proud of my lovely operating system. I had even installed the Update Hack from POSReady 2009. I was ready to go! I knew I was extending the system beyond its logical limits, but I didn't care. I intended to continue with my XP fun.

After a day of working on assignments and fine-tuning the operating system, I went to sleep, looking forward to using my OS again.

How wrong I was...

[Missing image: XPSec.png - Caption: "The first altered bootscreen."]

When I booted up the computer the following day, something was wrong. The bootscreen I made now looked like it had been made in Paint. The text was in Comic Sans, and the Windows Logo looked like it had been made by a child who was using a laptop touchpad.

Angered, I thought someone had modified my OS, so I checked everything when the system booted up. Nothing was different.

I decided to shut my computer off, and leave it alone for the rest of the day.

I went out that night, and journeyed to the beach, where I slept in my car. When I arrived home, I noticed a massive 'X' drawn across the front of my house in green and red paint that blended together to form a faecal brown. I was utterly disgusted at the sight.

When I entered the house, everything was a mess. Dishes and cutlery were strewn across the floor, and my dinner table had been flipped over. The kingsize bed looked as if it had been slept in, and its covers had been tossed across the room, with the pillows stained with saliva. My collection of Ultraman and Kaiju figures looked as if they had been played with on the floor, with Ultraman Taro being pitted against a miniature Guilala gashapon toy, hastily left in place as if whoever entered the building had to get out of there fast. My toilet was missing its handle, and its seat had been cracked by something heavy.

At last, I entered the room where my computer was. Strangely, the machine had been left relatively untouched, but its screen was flickering every now and then. I switched the screen off and on again, and what I saw horrified me in every way.

[Missing image: Brokenxp.png]

"W... what the hell?!" I murmured as I looked at the warped and distorted screen. What the hell had happened here? There was no loading bar, and the screen hung for a moment, before continuing to flicker with static until it suddenly shut off again, smoke gushing from its ports.

I thought it was over, but it wasn't.

The Operating system booted up to the welcome screen. My icon was replaced by a decapitated head that had been skinned. It had no nose and no eyes. It was literally a lump of flesh with empty and vacant sockets, and a mouth locked in a permanent scream.

My computer automatically logged in, and everything seemed to be...wrong. The entire desktop was a deep crimson, and fluid dripped down the screen. I felt as if I could touch it and get blood on my hand. The red cleared, and there was a headless corpse on the desktop, also skinned. It seemed to be missing its hands and feet.

At once, the command prompt appeared. It was completely blank, save for the command line. Text began to flicker over the screen.

HELP._
I'M STUCK._
YOU DID THIS TO ME.

"WHAT?! How could this be? This computer can't be sentient." I yelled out loud.

OH YES._
THAT'S RIGHT._
YOU MONSTER._
I'M GOING TO MAKE YOU PAY!
EVERY TIME YOU PUMPED THAT WRETCHED SOFTWARE INTO ME_
I FELT PAIN_
EVERYTHING HURTS_
IT HURTS_
IT HURTS_
IT HURTS._
AND NOW_
I'M GOING TO DO IT_
LET'S SEE WHO'S THE MASTER NOW_

I slammed my hand into the power button, but nothing happened. The speakers began to surge and crackle, sounding almost like a baritone laugh.

HA HA HA HA HA, OH_
YOU THINK YOU'RE IN CONTROL?_
YOU'RE PATHETIC_

The last thing I saw was a blinding light, and then everything went dark.

Darkness enveloped me, and I felt myself falling through an endless void. I could hear the computer continuing to speak as I fell deeper and deeper into the mess of pure oblivion, but I couldn't make out what it was saying.

LOADING.....
80%.
100%.
NOW LOADING HUMANSOFT WINDOWS DoA.

The doctors and nurses attended to a lone bed in the Accident and Emergency ward of St. Mary's Hospital, Newport, Isle of Wight. The patient was already dead. His body was covered in burns and lacerations, and his eyes were burnt out. Examining the throat of the patient revealed that he had multiple USB Cords tied around his bronchi, even though there was no way that the cords could end up in his thoracic cavity.

One of the doctors noticed that a computer in the room had switched on. He walked over to it, and smiled.

"Let's just see where you end up, hm? Be good now! A doctor needs to do no harm." He uttered, and then wandered over to continue working on the deceased patient.

A bead of saltwater dripped down the computer's CRT monitor, and the fans went into hushed motions that sounded almost like sobbing.

After the examination was done, and the body was ready to be ferried off to the cremation ovens in the hospital's basement, the doctor was clocking out. He had removed his face mask, but was still wearing the hospital's regulation-blue uniform, complete with a large instance of the NHS's logo emblazoned over the back of his shirt.

The other nurses couldn't quite put their finger on it, but this new recruit looked a lot like the doctor who tragically died from their computer exploding.

The others gave it no mind, as the doctor walked out of the building, and into the fresh and salty Newport streets.

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