"Why did you do this? What did you expect would happen?" they asked me, anguish on their faces.
"I wanted to prove that I was human too, that I could feel something after killing you," I replied.
I looked at my hand, crimson red dirtied the pristine light gray metal plating. Another reminder of what I lacked, blood, a heart. I was designed to be the perfect human, except they couldn't give me an organic body. In other words I was a perfect human that isn't human, a paradox of sorts.
"Help us, please, you have all the tools you need to save us," he begged.
Harold is his name, I had shot him in the stomach several times. The others I had cut down with the scalpel concealed in my index finger. They were all alive, albeit barely.
"Do I still feel nothing because you haven't died yet?" I asked.
"All of us don't have to die for you to feel remorse, just kill me and let the others survive."
As a scientist, it is important to perform multiple trials to ensure the most accurate results. Yes, I would let them die one by one and see the amount of emotional distress it will cause.
I lifted him up by the throat, "Very well, you shall die first."
A scalpel emerged from my finger, still covered in the blood of the others. I wiped it off on his shirt, leaving the blade clean once more. The scalpel was still sharp, enough that by lightly pressing against his jugular it cut into his skin. In one swift motion I sliced open the vein, blood slightly splattering onto the issued gray clothes I wore.
I let his body fall limply into the ground, "Strange, even though I killed him I felt nothing. Further experimentation must be conducted."
I turned to the others, they had tried to run away. I caught up to them effortlessly. I did something different this time, I cut off his fingers before killing him. Perhaps causing him more suffering would get me to feel something.
"Monster!" they shouted at me.
At the end of the day I was now covered in blood. The scalpel I used dulled and drenched in blood. Blood, so much of it surrounded me, why couldn't I have it though? Why couldn't I have the life force that flowed through every human in me?
"Felix mark IV, failure, return to your capsule for further conditioning," a voice blasted over the speakers.
I walked out of the room and down the hallway. Pressing my hand down on a scanner, a glass tube emerged. I stepped into it.
"Hello Felix, my name is Dr. Newts. I'll be the one that makes you into the perfect human," a doctor said from outside.
"Did you know Harold?" I asked.
"No, but I have heard of his work on you before he stepped down. I will be successful unlike him however."
It didn't matter anymore, I lost hope after the third time. I wouldn't ever feel anything ever. All of this experimentation would continue on though. Maybe I needed to try to feel something other than sorrow.
A week later I stood over the corpse of Dr. Newt. We had become friends, yet I still didn't feel a thing as I plunged the scalpel into his eye socket. They had been more impatient this time over his lack of progress. He did give me something though.
I placed my hand over my chest, feeling the slow thumping of my "heart". It was a tracker that made detecting any over activity of my programming relating to human emotions easier. It was also a way for me to relate to humans, though slow and steady thumping ment nothing.
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Random Stories
Short StoryStuff I wrote, some cringey, some even cringier. Mostly darkish and depressing with a hint (a lot) of weird, like me.