Prototype 1720

The Dealer

Somewhere far away from where I stood, someone believed. They believed in things that supposedly didn’t exist, things like me. Yes, things. They are used for convenience, they are needed for only one purpose, and one purpose only. Scissors, to cut. Rope, to tie. Gun, to kill. Prototype 1720, to execute procedures entered by the administrator and that only.

                                ~~~

           My neck ached from not moving for so long. I out stretched my arms, tangled in elastic wires, making sure I still wore my bracer. Thankfully, it was still wrapped around my thin,bony wrist.  I pulled myself out of my chamber that I slept in. As always, I awoke to a small room with nothing in it but a few puddles of water on the never-before-cleaned floors. The cold air attacked me, sending goosebumps up my arms and down my legs. Slowly, I walked to the metal door that lead to the hall. I placed my bracer over the scanner that stood next to the door and in return it beeped and screamed with electricity until a door opened with sudden speed.

Almost as if he had expected my awakening, the Artisan stood at the entrance with a smile plastered on his face.

“Good morning Olivia. Good to see you on your feet. Did you sleep well? I hope so, we have a big day ahead of us. You have much to show and tell.” He smiled, showing his perfect teeth, and he reached for my hand. His long, cold, bony fingers laced around mine as he guided me through the door and into the hall.

My hand got increasingly cold as we walked through the same hallway I walked through the previous day. Though, it seemed darker and dirtier even. The old wallpaper was peeling off and dust lingered in the air. His pace quickened. I struggled to keep up.

“Today, you’ll meet a man.”

I looked at him with curiosity.

“He needs some encouragement to create a deal with us. His name is Sam. We’ll see him after breakfast.”

My eyelids drooped. Food, I needed food. I grunted in acknowledgement that I had heard what he said. Thankfully, it was enough for him and didn’t speak another word.

He nor I spoke until we reached the mess hall which was roughly ten minutes. There were few tables but they could fit at least ninety people in here. Windows lined the upper walls and the food machine stood in the middle of the room. My eyes scanned the room, though my brain refused to do anything until it ate. So, my legs naturally moved to the food. The food they served was tasteless white goo that I never cared for but it was all we had. I’ve heard stories of other foods such as pineapple and chicken, my mouth watered just thinking about it, flavor is what they liked about, or so they said. I wanted flavor. I wanted to taste something other that this. The machine spit out my food and as usual, most of it hadn’t quite gone into the bowl. I sighed and walked to the table near the back where I always sat. I sat on the cold metal stool they provided for us to sit on and shoved a spoon full of goo into my mouth.

I rethought about what he had said earlier. I don’t usually get dealers, we don’t usually get dealers this early. We would usually go down to the study where we would discuss deals previously made and, if possible, how we could’ve gotten more from them. Discuss human emotions and how we could control them, understand them. What was even more bizarre was that the Artisan actually told me that there was a deal. He would usually wait until we reached the room and sometimes, not even at all.

“Artisan?” I asked, remembering he was there.

“Yes, Olivia?”

“Tell me again what you call this.” Goo ran down my mouth, slipping to the edges of my jaw and dripping to the table.