Alex

Good Morning Alex

The air smelled sterile, almost antiseptic. I struggled to open my eyes, but the lids felt like they were made of lead. A chill filled the room, and my skin prickled with discomfort. Every inch of my body was exposed, cold against the smooth metal surface beneath me. I flexed my fingers, the cold metal table sending sharp sensations through my nerves. How did I get here?

A speaker overhead crackled to life. "Good morning, Alex. Welcome to your new life."

The voice was calm, almost too calm. The name Alex felt foreign to me, as if it didn't belong, yet something about it resonated deep within me, almost burning into my mind.

I strained against the restraints, trying to lift myself off the table. Panic surged through me as I realized I was strapped down.

"Easy now, we wouldn't want you to hurt yourself," the voice said again, still unnervingly calm, but with an ominous undertone.

I tried to speak, but my mouth was dry, my tongue heavy. My throat felt raw, as if I hadn't used it in ages. The words refused to come.

"There, there, now. That's a good girl. Just lie back and rest," the voice cooed.

Taking a deep breath, I forced my eyes open, squinting against the blinding light above me. My surroundings blurred, but slowly came into focus. White walls, concrete floors... where the hell was I?

In the distance, beyond the harsh lights, I made out a shadowed wall with a large reflective surface—glass, possibly a window. Someone was watching me.

As if confirming my suspicion, a door opened in the darkness beyond the window. A figure stood silhouetted in the doorway before stepping into the light and closing the door behind it. The loud click of a deadbolt echoed through the room, sending a chill down my spine.

The figure approached cautiously. As it neared, the features became clearer—a short man with narrow shoulders, dressed in a white lab coat. His expression was neutral, almost clinical, as he stood before me.

"Alex?" It was the same voice from the speaker, only now it carried less of a metallic echo.

I turned my head away, refusing to acknowledge him.

He stepped closer. "Alex?" he repeated. "I'm sure you have questions, and I'll answer them in due time."

His hand reached out and touched my shin. The warmth of his palm against my skin sent an involuntary shudder through me.

"How perfect you are," he muttered, withdrawing his hand.

I forced my throat to work, struggling to form words. "Wh... wh... where am I?" I croaked, my voice barely a whisper.

The man's eyes softened slightly, as if he pitied me. "Let's just say you were involved in an accident. You... died. My team and I were able to bring you back."

The word died echoed in my mind, a relentless tolling bell. Everything else—the room, the restraints, the man's voice—faded into the background as I tried to process what he had just said.

"We were able to save sixty percent of your vital materials. The rest was replaced with stainless steel and microcomputers," he continued, but his words became a dull hum in my ears.

I had died.

"Leave me," I hissed, my voice hoarse and strained. "I need to be alone."

He hesitated but then stepped back from the table. "I understand. It's a lot to take in. You should rest. We'll talk later, once you've had time to recover."

With that, he turned and left the room, the door clicking shut behind him.

Died. I had died. The thought consumed me as I drifted back into unconsciousness.

---

The next morning, I woke in a much different place. Warm sunlight streamed through a window, bathing the room in golden light. The cold sterility of the previous room was gone, replaced by a softer, more inviting atmosphere. The bed beneath me was far more comfortable than the metal table I had been strapped to before.

I was still hooked up to various machines, IV lines running into my arms, and cables attached to several points on my body. But I could move my head now, and I took in my surroundings with a little more clarity.

There was a soft knock on the door. It creaked open, and the same man from before entered, his white lab coat still immaculate. He glanced at the clipboard in his hand, scanning its contents before tucking it under his arm and meeting my gaze.

"Good morning," he said, that same unsettling calm in his voice. "I trust you slept well?"

I blinked, trying to shake the fog from my mind. "Who... who are you?" I managed to ask, my voice dry but stronger than before.

"Ah, yes. How rude of me. We haven't been properly introduced," he said, stepping closer. "My name is Dr. Meyers."

"And where am I?" I asked, the question hanging heavily in the air.

Dr. Meyers smiled. "This is The Consortium," he said proudly. "A state-of-the-art scientific facility. You were brought here after the accident."

"Accident?" The memory was hazy, but that word—accident—felt wrong.

"Yes," he said, his tone softening. "You fell from the top of an apartment building. The impact shattered several bones, but you survived—barely. By the time the paramedics arrived, you were hanging on by a thread. They did what they could, but you died during transport. That's when we intervened."

He smiled again, a look of admiration crossing his face. "And now, here you are."

"But why?" I whispered. "Why bring me back?"

"For the sake of science, of course. What we do here is groundbreaking—controversial, yes, but revolutionary. We've made incredible advancements in prosthetics and cybernetics."

I blinked, the weight of his words beginning to settle in. "Cybernetics?"

"As I mentioned before, we were able to save sixty percent of your vital materials—your skin, respiratory system, parts of your brain. The rest was replaced with advanced technology. Stainless steel for your bones, microcomputers for your nerves. You're faster, stronger than ever before."

"This... this is too much," I breathed, overwhelmed by the information.

Dr. Meyers nodded sympathetically. "I understand. It's a lot to process. Rest for now. We can discuss the rest later."

As he turned to leave, he gently stroked my cheek with the back of his hand. "Such beauty," he murmured, before exiting the room.

I lay there in silence, the truth of what I had become sinking deeper with every passing second.

I wasn't human anymore. Not fully.