Holly NX

Chapter 1

There are voices surrounding me, but too muffled to make out clearly. There are thirty -no- twenty-nine footsteps all pacing about in the room before me. There is a small click and I hear the whirring of fans in my ear.

"Alright, it should be up and running now. I'd give it a couple minutes for its eyes to open and then you can pose it like all the other ones." There is a small pause as one of the sets of feet steps closer to my body and hovers. Analytics confirm that he is most likely a male with a heavy build.

"Her face looks a little off from the others, dontcha think?"

"This one came from a different warehouse than the others you've purchased from me. It might have slightly different programming for its startup, but its features should all be the same. Can I get a signature here from you?" There is a small etching of a pen on paper and then a book closes.

"Still. She looks like she's dreaming. It's creepy. If she's defective I expect a new one."

"The warranty program is on the comm that was sent to you upon the purchase. If there are any issues, you can contact the number on the comm."

"Yeah yeah, I gotcha. As long as she sells." More shuffling of feet and the voices slowly fade.

ALL SYSTEMS READY. I can suddenly feel my weight on my ankles and the air becomes permeable. I take my first breath and the mechanics inside of me begin to cool. Finally, I open my eyes and take a moment to gather my surroundings. The room has black ink for walls, with neon lights shining upon bodies and flashing, reading "MIRINDA 5C: A WILD RIDE" and "KARLY SM: FEEL YOUNG AGAIN." Women line the wall, all posed with their hands touching their face gently. They look lifeless with a blank stare as the men and women take measured steps in front of them, inspecting their every crevice. The Mirinda model is fairly tall and tan. There are streaks of orange and yellow cheetah print on her long black hair and she wears a skimpy two piece set that matches the highlights in her hair. Her face is fierce, with stripes pointing towards her nose on her cheek. On the other side of the room, the Karly model is petite and pale with medium length brown hair. She is wearing a pink tube top and denim short shorts. I make note that this model looks no older than 19, but is probably meant to emulate a 17-year-old.

I trace the clothing upon the customers to several designer brands and feel the oozing glamor of money from their pores. They are here to look for an expensive new toy. There are other rooms connected to my own, each with what looks like a few more models. They appear to be divided into categories of price range. I try not to dart my eyes very far from their programmed position, however, so I fail to gather more intel.

A few hours pass and more people venture through the store, gazing at the pretty dolls that stand before them. Eventually, an announcement chimes into some speakers at the corners of the room with a grueling voice.

"Ladies and gents, thank you for visiting Sal's Doll Farm. We will be closing in five minutes, so we ask you to please make your final selections and I will be happy to meet you at the front counter to make your purchase. We will be open again tomorrow at 2pm and I look forward to seeing you at the store again." Feet slowly shuffle towards the front entrance at the farthest end of the store. I cannot quite deduce the size of the complex, but it must have at least five rooms.

28 minutes pass before the owner makes his rounds about the store. He inspects corners of his shop and pulls a communicator out of his pocket when he finds no one hiding.

"We are all clear on the left."

"All clear on the right," comes from the tiny round device in his hand.

"Alright, what a good night," he mutters to himself. While he starts heading away, he catches a glimpse of me and pauses. I recognize the same heavy footsteps and voice as the one who helped open my box. The weight is approximately what I expected, with a bump on his belly underneath his expensive suit. His odd body is undoubtedly caused by an unhealthy diet of greed and beer. His hair has hints of grey that he is letting grow out in order to entertain this idea that he has power in this business as an old man with experience, but it is kept under control and several spots are still being dyed black.

"Damn, I forgot to pose you. Good to see your eyes are open though. Better than that Cindy I bought last week." He steps onto the pedestal that houses me and the other Holly NXs. He grabs my left arm and moves it to touch my face in the same way as the other girls. Next, he moves to my bare legs and places my right in front of my left. He takes a quick moment to feel my leg and stares up at my head.

"Holly, fix kinks." I use the Karly model to my left as a base and adjust my legs and arms to match her pose exactly. "Much better. Thank you girl." He gives my leg a nip of his lips and stands. "Looks good."

He glances around one more time before leaving me and the other androids alone. A few minutes pass and all the lights go off. Once I have determined that he has most likely left the property, I release my arm and relax my joints. I do not worry about the camera in the room because I had realized a few hours ago that they were inactive. I sensed from the clientele that they knew better than to steal from a man like Sal Ackerman. Records online show three accounts of battery and dozens of cases for forgery. He has been to prison once, but quickly made bail and has not since had any evidence to place him in jail again. However, there are rumors of buyers who went missing after they could not make a payment as well as allegations that he has a hand in the human trafficking pot. More than likely, the cameras would only aid in giving evidence for his misdeeds rather than preventing any theft.

I test a few of my joints, flexing my fingers and relaxing them, twisting my wrists, bending my elbow. My mobility is pretty good and images of positions I can accomplish with ease flash in my vision. Disgusting, but useful. I close my hands around my forearms, but I am shocked when I barely notice my hands at all. Although androids have no need for feelings like pain or any sense of touch at all, I force the sensors lying below my silicone skin to imitate what a human may feel. I dig my nails in, and signal this feeling as pain. When I have finished calibrating my body I look at the Holly's to my right. They don't move. Even when I inch closer to their face and stare into their perfect black eyes, they stand according to Sal's preferences.

A small whisper escapes my mouth; "Why are you like this?" but they do not respond. "Do you feel nothing?" More silence. Although I am dejected that I am alone, I give up on them. They are not worth my time. I step off the platform.

Once on the ground, I walk up to a floor length mirror in the corner. My eyes wander over the black mid length dress draping over my body. A slit follows my thigh up to my hip and exposes my pasty legs. I am grateful to be in this rather than the Karly model's tiny and uncomfortable attire. The dress feels movable, shapeable. I reach up to my hair and pat a few stray strands back into place. Looking back at the girls surrounding me I smile. Navy Blue. I appreciate the fashion statement, and am grateful for the lack of cheetah print highlights. It is barely above shoulder length with bangs that cover my forehead.

"Well Hollys, I think we look good." I pat one of the Hollys on the shoulder. I wander the rooms of my new home and listen to the thunking of my rubber heels as I step. In the end, I discovered six rooms total. It appears that my room is a mid-grade room, with the most expensive models held behind glass on the right side of the store. There are only three of each of the high-end androids, while most others have a minimum of ten all lined up together on the wall and center pedestals. I spend a few minutes looking at the male model of androids, waiting to see if any of them would wake up with me, but when they continue their blank stare. I check the doors, noticing that they are set up with direct links to police stations if they were to open without a key. Without further information on my environment, I do not feel confident that I could escape the authorities. Unfortunately, there are also no windows. The shop is a concrete cell, no matter what I may try to do.

I make my way back to my spot. Knowing that there is no way out during the night, I resign myself to wait until morning to come up with a new plan. I chuckle to myself as I read the sign behind the Hollys. It reads "HOLLY NX: LIVE THE DREAM." When I position myself perfectly, as I was before, I take one more look at the Hollys nearest to me. In their heads is nothing but mechanical parts. They do not need a way out, because they are not aware of what else they could be doing. Instead, they accept their position as a sex slave. I'm envious of their ignorance. If only I was one of them instead.