Snow White Sorrow

Unrelenting pain wracked through my body.

My blood felt as though it was boiling and my arm was like it had been dipped in ice water and the chill went down to the bone. Literally.

I snapped my eyes open to see that I was in a hospital. A doctor waved his med-scanner over me as I regained consciousness.

"Where am I?" I asked, my voice quite gravely from not speaking for so long.

"Beta Four Colony Regional Hospital," the doctor replied, "You've been in a coma for three months,"

"Three months?"

"I'm afraid so. I'm sure you have things you would like to ask but before you do that I need to ask you some questions to assess your mental state,"

"Go ahead,"

"Can you tell me your name?"

"My..." I began, "My name?"

"Yes?"

"I...I don't know it,"

"Memory loss was to be expected. Does this mean anything to you?" he asked, handing me a electronic dog tag, non-military though, "The name is encoded to someone named Sorrow. It may be a codename or an acronym,"

I reached out with my pained right arm to take the tag, but stopped, and saw why my arm was in so much pain. A black cybernetic implant was imbedded in my skin. It was huge, extending from the skin over my knuckles all the way up the right half of my bare arm to my shoulder. The device was exposed to air but dug into my skin and muscle. I felt it gripping my bones.

"What the hell have you done to me!?" I yelled, standing and grabbing the doctor by his collar.

He was easily lifted off of the ground and into the air. I was nearly a foot taller than he was.

"Security!" he yelled.

I dropped the doctor as three human men in gray security uniforms entered the room. I instantly struck one with my bionic arm and sent him flying. The other two both drew disrupter pistols. They both fired.

I again opened my eyes and was wracked with pain some time later. Only this time, I was in solitary confinement instead of a comfortable bed. I stood and walked over to the door that had a small window on it. Wishing that I had something to cut through it with, I imagined myself with a laser-cutter. Instead, out of a compartment on my implant that was just above my knuckles a wicked blade extended out.

Going back to the bench that I had woken up on, I sat down and experimented with my cutting implement. I could retract and extend it by thought-command I soon realized.

The door opened and a woman walked inside. She was tall for most people, though still short compared to me. Her hair was long and dark brown and she walked with a confident swagger.

I continued to retract and extend my blade as she approached.

"May I speak with you?" she asked, slightly timidly.

I looked at her and stood, towering over her by over a foot.

"By all means," I said, retracting my blade and gesturing with my bionic arm to the bench.

"Thank you," she said, taking a seat as I did so as well, "Kiah Jones, T-R-C News Committee,"

"Sorrow," I replied grimly.

"May I ask why you call yourself that?"

"It's the only connection I have to my past. The name was on a non-military dog tag when I was found,"