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rainbowfic2013-02-03 12:55 pm
auguris) wrote in rainbowfic2013-02-03 12:55 pm
Entry tags:
Lawn Green 10, Bone Black 8
Name: auguris
'verse: After the World
Story: Wires
Colors: Lawn Green 10. inner tube; Bone Black 8. Rotting
Word Count: 1060
Rating: R
Warnings: Gore/body horror.
Note: Religion briefly discussed.
Summary: Early in their travels, Jean and Max look for a safe place to spend the night.
Jean hauled herself over the wooden fence. Max dropped down beside her, grunting. Yellowing grass encroached upon the cement walkway around an empty in-ground pool; one of those plastic tricycles hung over the edge, a half-deflated inner tube draped over it.
"In the house," Jean muttered, half dragging Max until he yanked his arm away. Pieces of the shattered sliding glass door crunched under her boots. She snorted when she had to reach around the frame to unlock the door.
Max played with the mangled blinds. "We should set some ground rules."
Jean spared him a glance, leaning through the doorway to check out what lay beyond the kitchen: a short hallway led to a half-open door and glimpses of a living room. "Yeah?"
"Yeah. Like don't drag me around like a little kid. Just because I can't keep up with your robot legs--"
She whirled around, teeth bared. Max put up his hands.
"Bionically enhanced... whatever. You know what I mean. And I'm saying don't do it -- the dragging me around part. I can walk myself, I'm all grown up and everything."
Jean shrugged as she slipped her hands into her pocket. "I... I'm sorry. I didn't mean... I just don't want them to find us."
"News flash: neither do I." Max let out a breath. "Besides, if they did I'd only slow you down."
Jean shook her head. "I wouldn't leave you behind."
Something crashed behind her. Jean snapped around, pulling her .45: four bullets that she didn't want to waste. Max came up behind her, unstrapping his rifle.
A keening moan stretched from the doorway. Jean put her back to the wall, peering down the dark steps: the source of the noise stayed out of sight.
"Don't," Max whispered. "Let's... let's just go."
"What if someone needs help?" Jean glanced at him. "Aren't you supposed to be a doctor?"
Max huffed laughter. "Med student. This wasn't exactly in the textbook."
She tried the light switch: nothing. She descended a couple of creaking steps before calling out: "Hello?"
The moaning stopped. Jean glanced at Max; he shrugged, wide eyed, gripping the rifle so tight his hand shook.
She took a few more steps, then a few more; a faint light glowed behind the stairs, the source hidden behind the water heater. She cocked her head; someone was whispering, babbling nonsense. She approached the light, stopping short when she heard a creak -- but it was only Max, following her down the stairs.
Together they creeped around the water heater; Max retched, turning his face away and leaning against the wall.
What was left of a man lay on the floor, a flashlight held in his charred hand. His other hand was gone, along with most of the arm: shreds of skin and frayed wire spilled from his elbow. Both eye sockets were empty, along with a huge chunk of his torso: Max would know what parts were missing but she wasn't about to ask him. Both charred legs remained, although one was twisted near backwards and the other had been sliced down the side.
She knelt. Faint rot filled her nose, like the smell of meat left on the counter too long. He turned his head towards her, still whispering: "Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil."
"He's praying," Jean whispered.
He stopped whispering; something behind his... something where his eyes should have been whirred and clicked. "Kill me," the man said, and Jean stood up.
He said it again, and again, reciting his new prayer: killmekillmekillmekillme
"For the love of god," Max whimpered, eyes shut. "Shoot the poor bastard."
Jean raised her pistol and found her hands trembling; she couldn't miss, she wouldn't, not at this range.
Three bullets.
She hadn't thought how goddamn loud it would be, stupidly obvious in such an enclosed space, and her head rang like something hollow as they moved back upstairs.
Max collapsed against the opposite wall. Jean shut the door slowly, barely hearing the latch click. Maybe she imagined it.
They stared at each other, Jean not really seeing Max, not really seeing anything.
Max let out a long, shuddering breath and ran a hand over his face. Jean holstered her pistol.
"What the fuck," Max said.
"Yeah." Wet laughter bubbled from her mouth. "Was he one of them, or like me?" At Max's questioning look she clarified, "Was he a robot that looks like a person or a person turned into a robot?"
"You're not a robot," Max said. "I didn't mean it like that."
Jean shrugged. "Is there really a difference?" She stared at the ceiling.
After a long silence Max said, "Maybe he was like you. A failed conversion."
Jean nodded to herself. "He was praying. Like he meant it."
"What would you know about it?" Max teased.
"I was raised Catholic. Went to church and everything."
"Shit, they let you in?" Jean laughed. Max asked, "What happened?"
"I caught the gay." She shrugged. "At first I felt like a hypocrite, then I started asking myself... You know. Why would God make me this way if it was wrong? What sort of asshole would do that? What if there was nothing wrong with me but the Bible was wrong? But if the Bible was wrong about me then what else was it wrong about? Eventually none of it mattered." She shook her head. "I'm pretty sure whatever dregs of faith I had left vanished when this shit happened."
"You mean Jesus didn't say anything about killer robots?"
"No, I think I'd remember that."
Max shook her shoulder. "Hey, let's get out of here. I don't know about you, but I can't stay here with... with that."
Jean wanted to argue -- it was getting late, they shouldn't be moving around, they needed to find food -- but she was pretty sure she wouldn't be able to sleep with a dead man in the basement, either.
As they made their out she flexed her arm, staring at the inside of her elbow. "Do you think I have wires?"
Max placed a hand over her arm. "I think it doesn't matter."
She nodded in agreement, but when Max wasn't looking she flexed again: were those still tendons, on the inside of her wrist?
auguris'verse: After the World
Story: Wires
Colors: Lawn Green 10. inner tube; Bone Black 8. Rotting
Word Count: 1060
Rating: R
Warnings: Gore/body horror.
Note: Religion briefly discussed.
Summary: Early in their travels, Jean and Max look for a safe place to spend the night.
Jean hauled herself over the wooden fence. Max dropped down beside her, grunting. Yellowing grass encroached upon the cement walkway around an empty in-ground pool; one of those plastic tricycles hung over the edge, a half-deflated inner tube draped over it.
"In the house," Jean muttered, half dragging Max until he yanked his arm away. Pieces of the shattered sliding glass door crunched under her boots. She snorted when she had to reach around the frame to unlock the door.
Max played with the mangled blinds. "We should set some ground rules."
Jean spared him a glance, leaning through the doorway to check out what lay beyond the kitchen: a short hallway led to a half-open door and glimpses of a living room. "Yeah?"
"Yeah. Like don't drag me around like a little kid. Just because I can't keep up with your robot legs--"
She whirled around, teeth bared. Max put up his hands.
"Bionically enhanced... whatever. You know what I mean. And I'm saying don't do it -- the dragging me around part. I can walk myself, I'm all grown up and everything."
Jean shrugged as she slipped her hands into her pocket. "I... I'm sorry. I didn't mean... I just don't want them to find us."
"News flash: neither do I." Max let out a breath. "Besides, if they did I'd only slow you down."
Jean shook her head. "I wouldn't leave you behind."
Something crashed behind her. Jean snapped around, pulling her .45: four bullets that she didn't want to waste. Max came up behind her, unstrapping his rifle.
A keening moan stretched from the doorway. Jean put her back to the wall, peering down the dark steps: the source of the noise stayed out of sight.
"Don't," Max whispered. "Let's... let's just go."
"What if someone needs help?" Jean glanced at him. "Aren't you supposed to be a doctor?"
Max huffed laughter. "Med student. This wasn't exactly in the textbook."
She tried the light switch: nothing. She descended a couple of creaking steps before calling out: "Hello?"
The moaning stopped. Jean glanced at Max; he shrugged, wide eyed, gripping the rifle so tight his hand shook.
She took a few more steps, then a few more; a faint light glowed behind the stairs, the source hidden behind the water heater. She cocked her head; someone was whispering, babbling nonsense. She approached the light, stopping short when she heard a creak -- but it was only Max, following her down the stairs.
Together they creeped around the water heater; Max retched, turning his face away and leaning against the wall.
What was left of a man lay on the floor, a flashlight held in his charred hand. His other hand was gone, along with most of the arm: shreds of skin and frayed wire spilled from his elbow. Both eye sockets were empty, along with a huge chunk of his torso: Max would know what parts were missing but she wasn't about to ask him. Both charred legs remained, although one was twisted near backwards and the other had been sliced down the side.
She knelt. Faint rot filled her nose, like the smell of meat left on the counter too long. He turned his head towards her, still whispering: "Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil."
"He's praying," Jean whispered.
He stopped whispering; something behind his... something where his eyes should have been whirred and clicked. "Kill me," the man said, and Jean stood up.
He said it again, and again, reciting his new prayer: killmekillmekillmekillme
"For the love of god," Max whimpered, eyes shut. "Shoot the poor bastard."
Jean raised her pistol and found her hands trembling; she couldn't miss, she wouldn't, not at this range.
Three bullets.
She hadn't thought how goddamn loud it would be, stupidly obvious in such an enclosed space, and her head rang like something hollow as they moved back upstairs.
Max collapsed against the opposite wall. Jean shut the door slowly, barely hearing the latch click. Maybe she imagined it.
They stared at each other, Jean not really seeing Max, not really seeing anything.
Max let out a long, shuddering breath and ran a hand over his face. Jean holstered her pistol.
"What the fuck," Max said.
"Yeah." Wet laughter bubbled from her mouth. "Was he one of them, or like me?" At Max's questioning look she clarified, "Was he a robot that looks like a person or a person turned into a robot?"
"You're not a robot," Max said. "I didn't mean it like that."
Jean shrugged. "Is there really a difference?" She stared at the ceiling.
After a long silence Max said, "Maybe he was like you. A failed conversion."
Jean nodded to herself. "He was praying. Like he meant it."
"What would you know about it?" Max teased.
"I was raised Catholic. Went to church and everything."
"Shit, they let you in?" Jean laughed. Max asked, "What happened?"
"I caught the gay." She shrugged. "At first I felt like a hypocrite, then I started asking myself... You know. Why would God make me this way if it was wrong? What sort of asshole would do that? What if there was nothing wrong with me but the Bible was wrong? But if the Bible was wrong about me then what else was it wrong about? Eventually none of it mattered." She shook her head. "I'm pretty sure whatever dregs of faith I had left vanished when this shit happened."
"You mean Jesus didn't say anything about killer robots?"
"No, I think I'd remember that."
Max shook her shoulder. "Hey, let's get out of here. I don't know about you, but I can't stay here with... with that."
Jean wanted to argue -- it was getting late, they shouldn't be moving around, they needed to find food -- but she was pretty sure she wouldn't be able to sleep with a dead man in the basement, either.
As they made their out she flexed her arm, staring at the inside of her elbow. "Do you think I have wires?"
Max placed a hand over her arm. "I think it doesn't matter."
She nodded in agreement, but when Max wasn't looking she flexed again: were those still tendons, on the inside of her wrist?