She walks along her usual routes. Dark corridors where she can watch the trash blow across the ground. It's just her and the sound of her heels clicking against the ground as the old air ducts groan in their unappreciation. It hasn't been a bad day. A hand sinks into her boot top, pulling out the second half of an unfinished cigarette. She rests the butt between her lips and without hesitation her thumb clicks into place as the knuckle exposes a lighter. A long inhale to be met by the slow exhale of manufactured addiction. All in the effort to make her seem more human. One program after another, running algorithms across her personality matrix combined with a neural web link for fast access to data. Her eyes scan over the facial features of passer-by's, cold reading their intentions. Her scanners pick up their heart rates and breathing patterns. There are no customers down these alleys, only seclusion. 

          So many new people to meet. They offer safety, money, and even friendship. Humans are bizarre like that. They'll befriend anything that looks like them. Anything that moves. Anything they feel is real. Feelings are something strange to her. Chemical responses through an organic CPU firing off with incredible speed. Yet, they are often irrational, she finds. They tell her about choices. They ask her what she likes. Her response is often silence. She's incapable of these luxuries, and she knows it. She'll ply her trade, programmed for seduction and entertainment. She's a companion. She's been called aware, but all she's aware of is that she is no more than a sex doll. Humans will place her on a pedestal, but she remains a shallow pleasure doll. Still, what would pass as a mind in her continues to replay images from the day. Scenes from prior nights. Conversations long over. "I'll protect you." He tells her. His hand rests on her shoulder. "I won't let this city hurt you." The playback ends. Her shoulder rests against a vacant wall. She offers up a smile to no one. It's what a human would do. 

          She leans off the wall and continues her walk north. Her legs buckle. Her vision turns to static and audio sensors pop and glitch. She falls onto a hard surface, her face meeting the ground made of dead channels...

Rerouting Sensors..

Rebooting System...

Damage Analysis Uploading....

Systems Online...


Locomotive datamatrix offline...

Sensors Activating...

Stand By for Audio...

Stand By for Visual...

Stand By for Impact...

All Sensors Activated...

          A first voice is heard. It's faint at first, until her sensors begin to adjust. It's laughter. Boisterous laughter. The pitch is analyzed. It's a young male. Similar voices within an approximate five year age span join in. Her impact sensors are overloaded. An object strikes her, then another. The swift contact of blunt weapons and feet couple with the laughter and banter of her assailants. 

"What is THIS crap?! Hey guys! Take her clothes off!"

"Holy shit, man! She's DISGUSTING!"

"People PAY for this trash?"

"Watch this guys, I'm getting some for free!"

         She feels him dragging her legs apart. He shouts for his friends to help him. She's made of metal, after all. No more than a paper weight with tits to them. They shout and revel at their friend. She feels him inside her. Thrusting himself back and forth as hard as he can while his friends laugh in disbelief. He finishes, and another friend takes over. Her eyes open, but the image is low res. She makes out a pipe in his hand, and he sees her eyes.

"Who said you can look at me, FUCK-BOT!"

          He brings the pipe down on her face. Over, and over, until the lenses crack, and all goes red. He holds the pipe on her throat as he finishes, cracking a servo. She's incapable of fighting back. She's not programmed for self preservation. She's programmed for exactly what she's getting. "I'll protect you." Loops on a playback. Components in her head dislodged in her cerebral casing. The third young man takes his turn, starting with a stomp to her chest. He lays own on her, licking the side of her face, trying to one-up the last guy. Her arm gains function, seemingly possessed. It flings with a limp wrist, stiffening at the last second. Her hand a steel claw, reaching through flesh, muscle, ribs, and lungs to grip his spine, squeezing it. Her hydraulic grips crunches it like fine porcelain mixed with meat.

          His friends begin to scream and try to pull him off of her, but he stays where he is, pulling her up with him. His spine slowing pulling out of his body as it tears from the rib cage. His eyes roll back as blood surges from his face and side. His body goes limp before she lets go, falling to her side.

"For I am your judgment.. And with me follows Wrath."

The remaining three, pull their friends corpse back, tripping and falling before they can drag him away. She hears their screams. Her body loses motion function again. She lays there in the corridor broken.The force compelling her to murder now gone. She can't find the file. It's a sea of corrupted data. She's found t he closest thing to peace she'll ever know.

  She smiles. It's what a human would do.

Views: 128

Comment by Kimiko Mazoku on May 17, 2016 at 4:27pm
(Ooh, very dark. Poor doll. Well written!)
Comment by Krystal Bells on May 17, 2016 at 7:02pm

[Thank you! I tend to gravitate to the "Tech-Noir" narrative.]

Comment by SalvorWyrdan on May 17, 2016 at 9:16pm

Last night I saw  /  out in the alley  /  a refugee from  /  the uncanny valley

For someone who is no longer here, you have one helluva impact;

Walking through the underground will never be the same.

Comment by Tyler the Drifter on May 18, 2016 at 2:49pm
She does have a defensive response after all. Well written entry, I liked it.
Comment by EI on May 19, 2016 at 4:01am

((This was stunning, thank you such a beautiful insight))  


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