Caught in the Crossfire

Lost

The rain was rather harsh and unforgiving this evening. Connor's vision began to spiral out of control, bearing through the seething pain that entered his lower back.

"STAY STILL YA PIECE OF SHIT!"

Was it a word he grew used to at that point? It was so eager for him to discipline defiance. Well, his definition of defiance was far off of one's thought of disobedience. James Parker, that lousy old man. He wasn't the kindest of men. In fact he had a record for drug abuse and illegal gambling. He isn't feeble. Despite his crippling age, he still is able to swing a bat with quite a hefty dose of power. The pain that Connor had been suffering for the past two hours, was it normal for him? James knew it was a daily chore he had to achieve. Each time Connor was demolished into near unrecognizable features, his memory was completely wiped, giving him a new sense of discomfort each time he was beaten.

His job as a house maid was quite simple. James orders, he complies. He'd assume it would be the simplest of jobs yet it wasn't enough for the old man. It never was, as he yells in his angry rants.

Fear

Why..Why does he feel this? Is it fate that led him to these newly discomforting feelings? It is not designed for him to feel anything, why then despite his terror and pain? Why is he not compelled to fight back? Was it out of fear or obedience? Perhaps a mix of both.. Another swing of the bat destroyed Connor's thigh, biocomponents and thirium squirting out of what remained of his leg, sending a wave of blazing pain that coursed through his already aching body.

Please..Stop. It hurts.

Connor tried to speak but nothing came about. His words were muted by the loud thrashings of the metal bat. He lay there, helpless in the corner of the living room, barely able to contain his cries for help. He could do nothing but watch as his biocomponents were brutally bashed to bits and pieces. He could feel something wet drip under his eye, an unfamiliar feeling. A tear? It was unknown to Connor that androids could physically produce tears in a time of distress. He didn't give it much thought in the matter. What mattered was that he had to get out of this somehow.

Had he tried to escape in previous attempts in the past and just couldn't remember from the memory wipe? Perhaps. All these unanswered questions baffled him almost more than the situation itself. The androids brown and tearful eyes focused. They tried to focus on anything to see any possibilities. Then the thought hit him.

The gun.

He knew this very morning when he was ordered to clean James' room, he left a handgun in the top drawer of his desk. If he could get it in time..Could he, would he kill a human? It is strictly forbidden for an android to cause harm upon another human. Did the rules matter in a situation like this or did they only act like slaves, forced to obey their masters every will despite the abuse? He was afraid. Connor was afraid to die. He- He can't die this time. He at least had to fight for his freedom. Something snapped, a will that was so strong that he could not hold on any longer. But he was only a maid, his program doesn't have any self defense mechanisms. Did it matter? From what he witnessed he could throw a decent punch.

A hit to the face sent a splash of thirium across the wall, knocking the poor helpless android to the ground with a cry. Now's his chance. He slowly but surely made his way to his knees. Now that he thought, he wasn't as fast as he thought he would be. Another swing to the back sent him right back to where he was before. Thirium ran down his mouth and nose, seeing the percentage of his thirium levels.

34%

Not good..

At this rate he was bound to bleed out in the next 30 seconds. Would he have the same will to live once he was reset? Would he even snap? Or would it be an endless cycle that he had to endure..? Just then