Deviants Fallen: A DBH Story

Chapter 46: Bait and Switch

*****CONTENT WARNING: Violence and blood*****

///REBOOT INITIATED...

///3...

///2...

///1...

///REBOOT SUCCESSFUL...

///MEMORY RESET INCOMPLETE...

///WARNING: MEMORY CORRUPTION

She sat up, blinking away the warnings at the edge of her vision, and drew her hand to her head, but then stopped short. Her arm was a peculiar white color, made up of flexible plastic panels, but it seemed to behave like a human hand. A black cord ran from a small port at her elbow up and over a counter, likely connected to the computer sitting on top. Her other arm was consumed by a sharp, burning ache, and she looked it over, taking stock of the deep lacerations crisscrossing it. She flexed her hand, hissing as the motion sent a shock of pain through her arm and into her shoulder. Her eyes teared up momentarily, but she noted with grim satisfaction that she had no motor control issues. Moving slowly but deliberately, she pulled the cord out of her white arm and tossed it aside, then closed her eyes, waiting for the pain to ebb.

As she sat there, she became aware of a host of other sensations, and warnings flickered in her vision, informing her of her low body temperature, low blood volume, dehydration, and memory corruption. The slew of information overwhelmed her for a moment, causing a spike of panic to course through her. She pushed it away, trying to focus instead on remembering where she was or how she got there.

Nothing. She found nothing. Not even a name. The cold dark room around her loomed menacing and wholly foreign. A dark, nearly dry smearing trail of blood led from a metal table in front of her to where she currently sat, and more dark stains matted the shift she wore, and she could feel it in her hair and skin, an uncomfortable, itching layer of grime.

She felt a dull ache around her right thigh, a remnant of where someone had recently amputated her leg. Why? What had happened? She looked again at the cuts on her forearm. Had they done that too? Had she done something to deserve it?

She looked around, feeling the panic she'd been fighting bubble back up, threatening to spill over. Distantly, she was aware of her heartrate accelerating as her breath grew ragged, and darkness encroached on the edges of her vision as she began to hyperventilate. She felt an invisible hand wrap around her throat, squeezing tight, and for a moment, she couldn't breath.

"Oh, Clara!" An unfamiliar voice range out suddenly, sounding frantic as it shocked her out of the paralyzing fear. "Are you awake? I can't see you. Please, say something!"

Clara? Was that her name? It felt...familiar.

"Who's there?" She coughed the words out through the pain in her throat. Her voice trembled, still influenced by fear. "Who are you?"

"It's me, Amy." The voice grew gentle. "Oh, right. You don't remember. I guess the memory reset worked then."