Left beaten, bloodied and bruised in a ditch somewhere, @MadMikeMarsbergen lost the Pot 1 Finals of SmackDown: The Second Coming to @torontojim (who later ended up winning the Grand Finals, too). Now he's back to get some revenge on all you competit...
His arm moved involuntarily. The clunk of metal on metal roused Mike from slumber, the sound repeating as he attempted to raise his hand to his aching head.
"Keep still!" Her demand brought the pounding in his skull to an unbearable level.
"Shh. Not so loud," Mike whispered, his mind sluggishly trawling through recent memory in an attempt to establish whether the night before had been worth the hangover.
His arm jerked, so violently this time, it lifted his head and both shoulders off the cold surface, slamming his head back down with enough force to rattle his teeth. Mike groaned. Having no recollection of the woman prying his eyes open and blinding him with light or even how he came to be handcuffed, he resorted to humour – something he always did to hide fear and uncertainty. "I always fancied trying some kinky shit, please tell me I haven't missed it."
Despite the smile creasing her eyes, she said nothing, her focus returning to her examination of his upper body. She turned away, replacing the flashlight in her hand with a small screwdriver from a nearby trolley, and fiddled with something near his right shoulder.
"That should do it," she said, unlocking the steel bracelet circling his wrist. "Let's get you upright so you can test this for yourself."
His initial query died before it fully formed, replaced by shock at seeing the glistening framework of a cybernetic limb. "What the fuck happened to my arm!" he spat, immediately regretting the outburst that intensified the throbbing in his head.
"You don't remember the agreement you signed before the fight?"
"The fight?"
"Yeah. You lost by the way. And, because you didn't tick the box at the bottom of the agreement absolving the fight hosts from all responsibly for loss or damage, you donated your body to science." She gestured to the stark, white walls of the sterile operating room. "Welcome to the science lab."
Miniature pneumatic rams hissed softly with each finger movement, a fist forming. Mike remembered the fight, and the vow of revenge on each and every one of those involved.
"What sort of power does this thing pack?" he asked.
She walked to his side, a grin spreading her lips wide and exposing her cosmetically-perfect teeth. Her eyes met his as she ran a hand up his thigh, causing a cacophony of euphoric sensations to flutter. She stopped at the waist where she gripped the top of the blanket covering his legs. In one swift movement, she yanked the blanket away.
He half expected to see the same framework because of the show she made of revealing his legs, but they looked and felt normal. Minus the hair.
"Once we graft the skin onto the frame your arm will look just as real as your legs look. Cool, right? You understand this tech is experimental? Which basically means we don't actually know what you're capable of yet."
