Log:Dreams of Electric Sheep
There was no pain.
He couldn't feel pain. He couldn't feel terror. Not really. He was programmed to simulated them of course, but with those algorithms turned off it was just a realization that something was wrong. His hands were gone, and a spike descended towards his eye. It was the last thing he would see before...
He shot up in his bed with a start, hand going to his eye where he expected to feel a wound. His heart pounded in his chest, his breathing was sharp and ragged. The feelings were both new and vaguely familiar. He pulled his hand from his face and stared at it, mildly surprised not to find and blood.
Why would there be blood? He didn't have blood. Perhaps the milky white synthetic lubricant that kept...
He shook his head as two clashing memories vied in his mind. Callum's memories suddenly shunted to the side from the sudden wave of images from an island. Andrew. The room was familiar, too. He had been here once before. That strange facility.
He stared blankly at his hands. Were those bones and tendons that controlled his movements or wires and servos. He scrambled out of the bed, his balance going wonky and nearly toppling him over into a wall.
The aliens, humans with their skulls exploded, attached to the wall with slime and silk. He pushed off the wall with a small shout, seeing it one moment then the smooth plain walls of his room in the facility the next.
He stumbled over to the desk where his teapot and mug sat. Always there, cleaned every morning. He took the mug in his hand, hefting the weight.
Who was he. Andrew? Callum? Someone else. His brain hurt.
He smashed the mug against the desk, the ceramic shattering under his hand from the force of the blow, shards digging into his palm. Pain. There was real pain. He lifted his hand, staring at it. Blood. Blood and pain. And it was real. He was alive, he was human. It wasn't real.
He stumbled back against the bed and sunk to the floor, hugging his knees about him as he felt all the pains and feelings of being human again.
Huddled in the darkness, he wept.