Chapter Text
>> run
Can you remember when you were born?
Generally, the answer is no. The brain’s faculties, such as the hippocampus, are not developed enough to do so at that stage. Only the vaguest of memories could possibly exist within a newborn.
To put it quite simply, even if you think back to the very very first memories you possibly could have, you simply could not remember the moment of your birth. This is what is known as ‘Childhood Amnesia’.
So perhaps this is why the first time she opened her eyes, she knew something was wrong.
Information flashed over and over again.
[FLESH]
Her hands should be made of flesh.
But as she willed her body to move, all that filled her vision was crimson. All that filled her mind was the wail of alarms.
[BREATHE]
Her lungs should be breathing oxygen.
As she took that first gulp of oxygen, what she heard were pumps. The hissing of air being forced through piping, the twitching of those same pipes coming to life.
[RUN]
Her body was born to run.
And yet, no matter how she willed her legs to move, all that sounded were more alarms.
The sound gave way. She could make out… noise.
She strained herself through the fog.
[NOISE]
Language.
Speech.
“Brain activity confirmed!”
“That half-decayed lump of flesh?! That thing’s brain is 90% synthetic tissue! Get me readings-”
“Nerves are online… The control systems are being overridden! We can’t control her!”
“Impossible.” a firm voice, followed by footsteps, “Get a grip. It’s probably an issue with the instrumentation. This body’s been still for almost a century! It won’t just start moving now just because we plugged the heart back in!”
A century.
That was...
100 years.
Still.
Unmoving.
[INACTIVE]
Her eyes flew open, blurred and hazy. Somehow, in moments, everything felt… clearer?
Cold…
Why was she so cold?
The fog that had enveloped her senses began to give way. [IMAGES] flashed across her [OPTICS], and yet were not present; memories.
The sun burning overhead.
Grass beneath her feet.
The roaring crowds.
But most of all… she saw it. A light splitting the clear skies.
The flash.
A flash across the sky.
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It was now that her mind suddenly remembered what the feeling she was feeling now was classified as.
[PAIN]
Air blasted through her throat. Her vision grew foggy once more.
A bang and a crack.
And we’re off! The gates open-
As she planted her foot into the ground, it was not met with grass, but cold, hard concrete. As she bolted forwards, she barely managed to drag herself through the air.
The memories shattered.
She was not running. She was falling.
The clear sky gave way to the alabaster of the ceiling.
Her legs gave way.
Tumbling to the ground, she clutched at her chest. Her eyes darted around, flickering and filled with static.
Eyes should not have static.
More footsteps and voices around her. She willed her body to move once more - Why was it so heavy? - and forced her swimming vision downwards to her hands to focus once more-
Those were not her hands.
Like an aluminum mannequin, they was in the shape of a hand, but the exposed joints and wiring gave it away. Like a household appliance, there was some unusual brand name printed on the casing.
Blood pumped faster. She swiveled her head around to her other arm.
This one didn’t even have a hand installed. Instead of a hand, there was a metal stump, sparking wires poking out. Crimson fluid dripped out of a torn pipe from the stump.
She dreaded to look, but to her dismay her neck gave out with a shower of sparks and pivoted her head downwards.
Those were not legs.
Those were a tangle of metal and hydraulics. With a sad clunk, the last of the aluminum that had covered the limbs fell free, clattering onto the floor.
To even call them stilts would be an offense to stilts.
While all this was happening, a single, continuous, droning noise was emitted. Only now, gazing at what had become of her legs, did she finally process what it was.
Her own screams.
