Her Body of Muscle: Winter vs the Nanobots

Part 4: Chapter 37

Squinting and looking around, it took a moment for Winter to process what she was seeing.  As she looked back up towards the vent, Winter noticed that translucent glass, or perhaps plexiglass, surrounded her on all sides.  Catching her breath, she sat back on her heels and surveyed her surroundings.  It was as though she was in a box of some kind...

Something caught in her throat.  With a cold tremor down her spine, she realized she wasn't alone.  Sitting on a bed, boxed into the corner of the translucent room was a wispy looking man with dirty blond hair.  His state of frailty and dishevelment was approaching an emaciated state.  For a moment, he stared at her wide eyed, gaping.

What the fuck.  Were the only words flashing like blaring sirens as she stared at the man.

"Ph..." she hesitated.  "Philip??"

The man continued looking at her.  Winter's hat had fallen off when she tumbled down onto the ground.  Her shirt and stretch pants slightly tattered and revealing several long red scratches remained functional.  Hands on her knees, her triceps dissected the fabric of the shirt, a coursing deep muscular horseshoe casting slight shadows in the soft overhead lighting.

"Wa, wa."  The man gulped, then hack coughed with difficulty.  "Hi, Wa... Winter."  He choked out.

Squinting, Winter's head involuntarily tilted.  What the holy fuck. She felt like she had a headache, perhaps she was seeing things.  Her mind was screaming.

Philip, if that's really who the shriveled bean of a man was, was also dealing with what looked to be nearly fatal shock.  The weak man on the bed was staring at Winter's physique in appreciation but also with a sudden flustered sense of recognition.  Yes, I'm the one from that night.  The very same.  Winter thought.  Three long years after that night and apparently it had remained her secret.
"You're dead."  She said, accusatorily.

"Whaaa, whaaa, what are you taaalking about?"  He groaned.

Philip pointed at a glass of water on a single pedestal sink several feet from the bed.  Rising, more out of curiosity than obedience, Winter walked powerfully over to the sink, her calves softening and then contorting in shimmering strength with each step.  Taking the glass she handed it to Philip still sitting on the bed.  He grabbed the cup greedily with two shaking hands, taking a sip.  Despite his frailty, Phil's eyes remained saucer large trying to drink down his x-wife's body alongside the water.

"I saw you, at your house.  You were dead.  And Brittany too.  In a pool of blood." Winter said, furiously.

It looked like Philip was trying to laugh.  The attempt succeeding only in apparently causing dry pain in his throat.  He hacked again.  Gulping, he took a second sip and then managed to speak.

"Look, look, ahem, look around."  He gestured around the cell pointing to an extremely fancy looking computer and multiple monitors in one of the corners.  "Do you really."  Cough.  "Do you really think, these people can't."  He hacked and took another sip.  "Can't create a believable ca-carbon co-co-copy?"

Looking down on a shadow of the man she once shared a bed with, Winter tried to make sense of it all.

"Ok.  You're saying a fake body was made that looked exactly like you?"  She glared.  "With blood and flesh and... I fucking put a jacket over your body."  She flared her nostrils.  "Ok, you're here.  Ok, fine." Winter shook her head, eyebrows furrowed.  "Even assuming that's a thing.  Doesn't tell me what the hell are you doing here?"  She demanded.

Philip's head dropped and his shoulders slouched towards his knees.  It looked for a moment like he might simply topple off the bed as he leaned forward, but he held his balance.