#1
I glare at him, my arms across my chest.
"Anyone up for a fight?" He asks waving his arms. Everyone else around him shrinks away, avoiding eye contact and looking as small as possible.
I continue to stare him dead in the eye. He back at looks at me and takes me for a competitor.
"Ah, yes sir! You want a chance against the biggest giant we have?" He says, smiling coldly.
I step forwards, arms falling at my side in military fashion, slightly tensed to show the muscles laying hidden there. I make my way to the arena in cool, calm steps, hearing the roars of hundreds of men waiting for a bloody fight.
The battle inside me drowning out the noise.
You must, A voice says. You must
But why! Another yells. Why!
Because if you don't, they will kill you.
I know this one is right, but I still don't want to.
I don't want to become the person my father would approve of. My abusive, addicted alcoholic father that could never keep any money to save his life, couldn't stop the save his life, couldn't be a father to save his life. It was me that brought him down.
I never had a father, if I do it, my son won't have a father, and that can never happen.
Never I growl back. Never.
But I'm in the arena already.
I'm cool, and I know what I'm going to do.
I'm going to kill.
I'm going to win.
I take a step towards the beast that I have to face this time, watching with satisfaction as the jeering crowds spurr the man next to me to put a hand on my chest, stopping from me from charging at the person across from me.
I turn my head to him, his brown eyes clash against mine as I take in his carefully sculpted arms and matching body, the only obvious weakness being his slight bulge in his midsection from too much food- like there was more than a few people that had that luxury, me being one who refuses to partake.
I pull back my lips slightly, snarling at him as he steps away from me, his bulk taking more time than it should.
"Don't ever touch me again." I spit, growling every word under my breath so only he can hear it, the words unheard by the other nearby guard containing the crowds.
I'm satisfied by the drapetomania clearly visible in his eyes. Pleased by the gorgonizeing effect I've had, I continue forward again, taking one of the 50 or so left until I meet my opponent as he stumbles away, falling in his rush. I turn to him, feet still pointed to the person ahead while turning my torso almost 180 degrees, inspiring more fear in his terrified body as he shuffles away on his back, hands and feet working to move the enormous body away from the danger that I posed. Or, at least, that I seemed to.
I turn back to pose myself as more bot than human, making the crowd boo when they see my display.
"NO BOTS!" a drunk man yells over the boos and holding up his drink in protest.
I smile at him.
"Don't worry, I will have the entertainment you've been craving" a robotic female voice on the speakers bellows, helping the show to only further progress as more people have failed to realize the planted mike I've used.
Such simple minds. I'll enjoy this. They'll hate it, but I will forever remember it in the Good ol' Days folder.
Smiling I turned to my opponent.
Her name was Beulah, and she was the undefeated champion for almost 5 years in a row now. Her wicked fast claws are a thing of nightmares. As she turns from jeering the crowd, my eye instantly catches her stats.
Mothers name, heritage, middle name, birth date and time.... Ah, here they are.
Favorite stroke, speed, energy level, kills, defeats, and opponent names all scroll past as I read them at lightning speed.
#2
Two men ran into a science experiment. Neither of them realized it until about day 400 of the apocalypse. Of course, you already know what it is, but clearly these two idiots don't.
Sitting in the middle of a clearing off of the road they've been following for a week now, two men are sitting across from each other and staring into a very circular fire with such intensity that they forgot about the tent of to the right that's starting moving. Out of the flimsy canvas covering emerges a person.
Although they can't actually see it, this person is almost 70% cyborg. Having lost large amounts of its body decayed due to disease, most of it's skin and organs are synthetic. It's lost its left foot, right middle, pinky and thumb, and entire left arm. Of course, no one knows this because of the great advances in scientific technologies that we have experienced in the recent 100 years.
It has awoken about a hundred miles away from it's last memory, and stands up confused at the edge of the tent, staring at the two figures in front of it, unsure of what to do.
Neither of them notice it for several minutes. It stares at them, they stare at the fire. No one moves until the man farthest away from it heaves a huge sigh and looks up at the other man.
"Look, I know you- SWEET MOTHER OF PEARL WHAT IS THAT!" The man yells as he catches sight of it. He falls backward and starts scrambling back while staring at it.
The other man looks up at him.
"Really Grower? I mean, I knew you were petty, but I didn't think you were that petty." The man stops as he realizes he's not looking at him. He follows Grower's gaze to it standing about four feet behind him.
"Oh." He says, showing a large amount of insouciant, not moving an inch as he studies it standing in the darkness.
Grower has stopped moving and is now trembling in fear at the edge of the light cast by the fire.
The second man looks from Grower to it and shrugs.
"I mean, you haven't tried to kill us yet, so you might as well come over here and sit."
It starts moving toward the fire cautiously, monachopsis flowing through its synthetic veins, but have a huge surge of curiosity. After a few beats of freezing, it began moving to the fire, the curiosity greater than the displacement.
It shuffles forward quickly with such legerity it surprised itself. It took a seat a foot or two from the second man and quickly pulled it's knees up to it's chest, feeling adrenaline pump through its veins.
The second man looks it over quickly and without surprise and turns back to his companion.
"Come on Grower. I'm not dead yet. Besides, the fire's starting to die down a little already." He looked at his friends back for a second longer before turning back to the fire as Grower started inching closer.
