I had just done my daily patrol of Detroit. I stopped 6 muggings, 3 robberies and a house fire. All in all it went really well. I felt really chuffed with myself, I could have done it better. They all were polite and really happy for me being there, they no longer feared me, they didn't see terror anymore, they saw hope.
I sat down in my room at home, dad, yeah I call him that now, I feel like he has really become my dad, not the workaholic that he used to be, was down stairs making us something to eat, he knew how much eating made me feel human even if I didn't actually need to.
Anyway where was I, yeah I was talking about all the great things I did today. But all those great things can't get my mind off the screaming. Off the blood on my hands. A little girl had died in my arms. One moment she was looking up at me, hacking and coughing and I couldn't do anything about it.
She clawed at her throat to try and get air out, to the extent I extended my extra arms and carefully held her arms to stop her from hurting herself more. I held her close to my body as I flew out into the open air. She smiled at me the whole time and I smiled back at her.
She whispered to me and then her voice went raw. GRID, my artificial intelligence, told me that she had died, that she had too much smoke in her lungs. I handed her to the paramedics and let my knees buckle to the ground. In short, cybernetics cannot handle emotions as well as humans can, so they end up malfunction a little bit, it slows things down but it's okay.
Her parents came and sat down beside me, comforting me and tried to talk to me but I just cancelled out the noise that they made. I thought that would make them leave as it goes across as rude, but to my surprise they still stayed by my side. "It's my fault, you shouldn't be kind to me. I couldn't save your daughter."
"You tried." They told me. "And everyone else made it." They helped me up and I nodded to them and flew off and that got us to where we were at the start of story. Dad told me that food was ready and I rushed down the stairs and sat down. I pushed my food around on my plate, not really having my apitet.
"Are you not hungry, son?" Silas asked. I just shrugged my shoulders. "You normally don't do this." he lifted up my head so I could face him. Tears were falling down my face. "Hey, what's wrong. Did something happen." He said in a much softer tone.
"There is blood on my hands dad, blood on my hands and I don't know what to do?" Silas looks down at my metal hands, not even a splash of blood are on them and that's when he realises what I meant.
"Don't worry, son." Silas reassures me. I looks up at him slightly and try to give a soft smile. "There is blood on my hands to, we can help wash it off together." I give him a soft smile and nod.
"Yeah, I guess we do." I say quietly, not really believing it.
"And we don't have to do it alone Victor, there is always someone to suffer with, we both just have to face the same problem, together."
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YOU ARE READING
Wumptober
Science FictionIt's that time of year again. Spider-man, The Flash and Cyborg, prepare to get hurt. And you know what, I have no regrets or guilt, I really enjoy hurting people.