Humanity's Weapon

13

My arms were slightly thinner, my cuts were definitely infected, there was without a doubt blisters under the leather manacles. It had been 26 days, 15 hours, 34 minutes, 12 seconds since they came and insulated the room. It was now about 0.2 decibels inside the room. I could hear the blood pushing its way around my veins, arteries and capillaries, all blood flowing 186 beats per minute. All 5.6 liters of blood splashing around my veins. Every beat of my heart, every creak of my joints, every single scrape of the wooden chair, amplified louder.

I had gone through my entire memory drive in excruciating detail from my creation to the wars, from my "friends" to my former followers that are now dead. I had defined every word in my knowledge then classified it in parts of speech, then in alphabetical order. I had worked out all 6,838,789 things that could happen to me in this cage. I had organized all the species on planet Earth by phylum then alphabetically, taken apart cars, jets, bicycles et cetera, listed all the chemical components inside cement. I had thought about the creation of humans, chemical components inside Venus' atmosphere-and all other planets in that matter- I had thought about many more things in the 58 days I've been locked in here, everything that I ever observed. Now I was on an endless loop, braiding string. Braiding and braiding the same color of beige twine over and over-never ending, or tangling.

I had organized everything mentally. Now my mental state was.. dry?
Bored?

I raised my head from its drooping state, my vertebrae creaking at the hinges. I haven't spoken in 26 days, I think, they must've forgotten about me. I smirk and a shrill, baked giggle escapes my mouth, the giggle echoes about the room enhancing in volume each hollow rebound.
"Hey!," I yell to no one in particular, "Any of you dicks have a board game? Book? Anyone wanna come play with me?!" I continue. The echoes ricochet around the room, causing the creation of a mild migraine. On the other side of the iron door was a few murmurs before the click of the door opening. Another chuckle of accomplishment slipped from my lips.

A soldier stepped though the heavy doorway.
"Ah! Why, if it isn't good ol' Absalom! Here to play with your dear sister?" I say eager to let the vibrations carry out the open doorway instead of caroling back to me. His steps were steady in tempo, a sample of a soft music for my empty ears. His tan skin and ebony hair seemed to radiate light light from the orbs be hind him, giving. Him a godly aura. Any human would consider him a savior- but I knew better. He was nothing better than a paper doll, able to bend and rip and tear at his creators command. He had no knowledge except from war techniques, had no emotion except wrath, not even pride- that was saved for "God".

He strode over to the wooden chair I was strapped into. His thin fingers wrapped around the latch and started unlocking the manacles. I started to raise suspicion, but knowing I wouldn't receive an answer, I kept quiet. He picked me up by my shoulders, pushing my newly locked wrists between my shoulder blades. My lesser used legs barely held my weight as Absalom grudgingly pushed me out of the insulated prison.