They’re still trying to puzzle out what happened to me. The doctors say things like “bio-mechanical enhancement” and “pseudo-conscious endocrinal control” and “cyborg” and “super-soldier.”
“Will the subject please address the test unit?”
I step forward. The machine is like a barbell attached to a crane. Testing lift capacity, they said.
I’ve tried to explain, but they don’t understand. The thing that drives me, the glands and chemicals… it’s fear. It’s the force that drives a fist through glass. Or gnaws off a foot at the ankle.
I close my eyes. The Fear swallows me in the darkness.
That Pot Or Vase I Think
1 day ago