D:\Logs_38\CH2\2\20.txt

 +526f7878616e6e65+

 

A breeze woke me up last night, I had forgotten to close the window, I had fallen asleep on my desk again. I groaned and muttered a few curses to myself as I got up, the wooden boards below me crying in pain, my naked feet dragging themselves across as a dirty, unkempt floor, knocking rubbish as they marched, I did not care, my mind had taken interest in more important matters.

After closing the window and slowly walking back to my seat, I became blind for a second, my eyes readjusted to the multiple screens in front of me, blue, yellow and white colors flooded my retina, text etching into my skin, file names and images shining into my glasses. I felt comforted, staring into a wall of information, composed of liquid crystals powered by electrodes, vomiting colors through filters.

My fingers cracked as they hammered down, my heavy breathing occupied the spaces between each click of my mouse, I was a music machine, my melody composed of small cries of pain, that arranged a symphony of suffering. It never mattered to me however, every possible chance I had to do something about it was pushed away by a buzz, hum or some other noise from a terminal that reminded me of what my fate was, forever bound to this room, to these four walls, covered in wines, like wild vines that grew out of my own control, I liked them, I caressed them, I spoke to them as if they were a friend, a lover, a child, a sibling, a parent, a master, a guidance, an idol, a god. My god, perhaps, one that never spoke in a tongue that I mastered, one that didn’t lie, one that didn’t hurt me, one that would protect my frail body and mind, one that only wanted electricity as an offering; a graphics card displayed the sharpest images of all kinds of places that I would never visit even in my dreams, a keyboard aided me to write everything I ever thought, from my biography to my suicide note, a hard drive kept these things and much more safe, for no one else to see, my own vault of secrets, all encrypted, all mine, my dearest granted me that wish, the wish to create and keep to myself, to be alone, but not lonely, I was with It, and It was with me.

I let out a loud cough, droplets of my saliva falling onto the space bar, I tried closing my mouth but my jaw gave up long ago, my rotten teeth made it painful to even drink, I had stopped eating weeks ago, the pain finally set in, my body begging for so many things yet I failed to provide any of them, I moved my arms back, resting them on my lap, I stared at my thin fingers and, for the first time in a really long time, I cried.

I didn’t want this life, I felt robbed of it, I was unable to create anything without electricity, my hands had always been too fragile for it, my heart had been working as best as it could since I was born, with a life expectancy shorter than a home pet, I could not handle walking past my room without falling and losing consciousness, I let out more tears, I attempted to whisper curses even with a broken jaw, I glanced at the window I had closed, a cloudy sky let a few shines from the sun out, soon the automatic blinds would go down, shielding me from the harmful UV rays, long gone were the years of journeys, the rain was toxic, the sun burned you and the air choked you. I was trapped in a vessel set to expire a decade ago, a prison made of dirty flesh, broken bones and weak muscles.

I had an idea, possibly the last one I’d ever have by myself.

I took a deep breath and pushed against my chair as I screamed, my legs shook as I forcefully dragged them to the hallway, cans and used batteries brushed against my feet, my vision shook as I reached for the doorway, I let out a groan, reminding myself of my goal. The kitchen was just past the bathroom, cockroaches had taken over it a long time ago, my body had not been in contact with water in so long it scared me to my core, afraid I’d drown even by drinking water. My legs pushed through a bit more until I arrived to a shelf, the rotting wood took care of the cupboards, letting mugs fall and break on the floor, a mountain of rusty cutlery poured over the sink, I let my poor hands feel up the sharpest tool they can find, the grooves of a blade bit my fingertips, I tried to smile as I turned around. I fell, my body almost not making a sound, I was too thin for the floor to even welcome me with a creak, maybe I wasn’t even worth that. I crawled back to my room, my arms turned red, sending pain down my body, more tears ran down my cheeks, I felt happy that it’d end, my last push, one last effort until I’m gone.

My hand formed a claw shape as it gripped the end of my desk, I pulled myself up with the last bit of energy I had, reaching for my god, my idol, my guidance, my master, my parent, my sibling, my child, my lover, my friend. I unscrewed each bolt holding it, caressing and shushing its case, calming it down, telling it how things would be okay. I pet its RAM, tracing my finger over the motherboard’s pins, feeling the warmth of the power surge unit against my cold hands, it felt like home, it is home, it is my escape, it’s my new life and my freedom. The fans spun happily, it loves me, it wants me inside, yes, it does.

I pressed the brown silver against my bare chest, I took a deep breath and slammed myself against the corner of the case, I wrapped wires onto the handle, pulling downwards, i bathed my dearest in my crimson tears, I wanted It to drink from me, to be fueled by me. I let my guts rest over the motherboard, letting the pins connect to my intestines, begging to leave this body, this room, this planet, I cried harder as the pain set in, more of my stomach spilled out, my hands turned a different color for once in my life, bright red finger prints ran down the screens as I pressed against them, my eyes fully dying, the last picture in my mind being colored squares bleeding through glass. I let out one final moan as my lips laid a kiss onto one of my god’s ports.

 

D:\Logs_04\CH1\2\40.txt

 +4c616e646f6e+

 

Often, my memory trails back to when I was under 10 years of age, when I couldn't reach counters, when my shoes didn't have laces,  my hair was short and blonde and there were gaps in my gums. My uncle, excited, would visit my home every Saturday, echoes of nagging and cries from him towards my mother, pleading for her permission to take me with him, I would run into my mother's arms and beg at the same time, my cries piercing her ears and peer pressuring her into agreeing. In a matter of hours I'd be holding onto an iron railing, the cloudy sky and cold wind etching into my mind, my uncle was more than a simple fisherman, he'd use nets to catch specific fish for clients, yes, but his biggest profits came from recovering objects underwater. His boat, which he maintained himself, had all kinds of machinery to retrieve objects that had sunk deep under the ocean, he'd often show me how to operate them to the point it felt as natural as breathing, a passion growing in me.

As my uncle grew old, he worked less and less, his body ached, his mind yelled, he wasn't ill in his head, but the sea could make anyone crazy, the swaying of a boat, the push of the strong waves and the never ending fog that seemingly swallowed any boat that dared venture out.

As I grew my hair and age, my love for ships followed, settling to take the exact same job my uncle filled in, following his steps. I started taking small jobs at first, fixing his old ship back to life, catching common fish, taking tourists around and offering scuba divers assistance, opening up for scientific and private explorations online.

Sitting down in my office's chair, I clicked around my screen, reading the e mail I had received, at far as I understood, it was one of those rich clients that wanted a "local expert" to retrieve an object in a location further away than what I was used to, it detailed how they'd be waiting at the port at around midday, promising a big pay for it; I wasn't disclosed what I had to retrieve specifically, just the exact spot. I reluctantly accepted, if this was some kind of trick, at most I'd just find myself wasting some of my time.

I got up at 6 in the morning, slipped into my overalls, well worn boots, combed my long hair back and fashioned it into a ponytail, my uncle's jacket hugging me, keeping my body warm.
The revving of the engine greeted me how a dog would, waiting to play fetch with today's goal as I started my journey. It took a few hours, which I didn't mind, I had a clock next to the boat's console, it meant nothing to me, the waves kept me company, told me stories, the smell of algae and humid air helped me stay awake from the rocking of the ship, acting as a cradle.

My map and compass finally marked the general area, I anchored and ran to the right deck, powering on a crane, the controls, freshly cleaned, smoothly followed my movements as I retrieved what seemed to be a container of sorts, after taking it out of the water and placing it on board, I gauged it'd be about the size of two people in length, covered in seaweed and barnacles, I scraped the ones hanging onto a lock off with a knife, the rust had made the chains weaker, letting the door swing wide open the moment I added any kind of pressure.

Inside was what seemed like a humanoid figure in a fetal position, about the size of an adult, I walked into the decayed container and approached the shape.
I tapped on it, feeling a cold, metallic texture meet my finger tips, confused, I carefully lift it up and carried it all the way into an empty cabin, placing it on the bed. I ran my fingers around it, understanding what it was a bit better, feeling a switch around the side of its... "head"? I pressed it, a whirl and a beep followed.

"Rebooting, 04%"
I sighed.
I turned the engine on and circled back, my mind wandered around my thoughts for a while, nothing unusual, as much as I found the sea exciting, it also helped me have time to think for myself, without the busy sounds from the city or the beach, I wondered about the tin body I had fished out, it gave a... feminine aura, granted, it wasn't some kind of sexual image, no tiny waist, no big hips... I had no interest in such things, I shook my head, asking myself why I was attempting to make those connections...But something about it felt as if it was meant to be a stand in for someone, perhaps a late wife? Friend? I could ask my client, if they didn't send someone to pick that "thing" up, I shrugged.

Thankfully for me, the sea was calm enough that day that my journey back to shore was easier than I could ever hope, I shut the engine off again and walked to the docks, I sat down in a bench nearby, and waited. An hour passed, two, three, four, I got up and walked back to my house, conveniently located right by the docks, I glanced at my precious ship, wondering what I could do with the unclaimed cargo inside, for the moment I had one thing in my mind: rest.

My slumber was interrupted by a harsh noise, as if someone scraped two knifes together, I jolted off bed fearing some dumb kid sneaked into my home, hoping to snag something. I followed the noise to my kitchen, being greeted by the culprit, already familiar to my eyes.
The metallic body I had picked up yesterday stood motionless in front of my fridge, almost as if it was staring into it (not like I could tell, the damn thing didn't have eyes for all I knew) I pushed it slightly with my hand, expecting it to flop over, it took a step back and "stared" back at me, I waved my hand, its head followed the motion, I asked if it wanted anything, all I got in response was an artificial nod.

I evaluated my options, I had a mute silver human in my home, it can't talk yet it could understand me, the client hadn't replied to the text messages I had later sent about not showing up the day before, I stared back into it. I reached for it's switch, hoping I could turn it off, it pressed its frame against my hand, almost like a newborn animal seeking for pets; awkwardly I rubbed my hand up and down the plastic that covered the corners of the screen, a light vibration came from its guts, my facial expression went from confused to slightly concerned, I found it somewhat adorable that something near my own size could act like this and it had been a long time since I had anyone in my home, so, I kept her.

For a few days she just ran around the house inspecting things, picking up books and plants off my shelves and studying them, caressing them, I enjoyed observing her behavior, often bringing me objects and expecting me to explain them to her, read books about sea monsters, some of my diaries about my travels and manuals for the machinery I used, it seemed to learn quite quickly, I'd go out and fetch a book or two from the library in a village nearby the beach, cooking books, classic novels, dictionaries, I'd show her some of my favorite meals (most had shrimp and rice, I am a simple person after all), practice the little I spoke of languages I heard from clients and tourists, I'd even taught her how to play card games, somehow managing to beat me. Most days she'd end up laying her cold head on my lap, expecting me to caress her, it was strange, for sure, it felt as if I had let a microwave become a pet of sorts, but I didn't mind, after all I didn't seem too fond of living creatures, not enough time to chat with someone, money for a helper or energy for an animal.

I ended up letting her hop into the second closest thing to a companion I had, my ship purred like a gentle beast, it felt nice to share it with someone that hadn't offered money for it, she'd run around the front deck, the water splashing against us sliding off her screen, her curious approaches at the rare bird that would rest on board (always failing, of course, the beeps and shifting sounds of metal would scare any animal), I loved observing her, I grew a habit of spending a bit more of my pay than usual every month, poking into shops for dresses and clothes for her, the workers asking me if I had finally met someone, everyone in that forsaken town was nosey and loved gossiping, so I always faked a cheeky smile and said something along the lines of "maybe, perhaps I share my nets with some lucky lady", hiding the pain from my gut turning on itself from the sickening idea of spending one more second talking about hypotheticals.

-----------------------------------------------------

Just like any other day,  I had shipped off for another retrieval, I had made sure to meet the client this time and got part of the payment beforehand. The location was  way further away from land than I was used to, but the pay and the fact that it was an urgent request convinced me, the client was a soft speaking man that told me about a shipwreck around that area, it seemed like he might've lost someone there, wanted to retrieve some luggage, I offered my condolences (though I never directly asked, the heaviness in his words gave me a good idea of what he was going through), assured him that I'd dive in myself and get everything I could.

Getting there, while it took time, was quite easy, my company helped me pass the time, she would keep me company behind the console, tracing her plastic fingertips around the seams of her sundress, sometimes managing to pick some radio signals and playing music off her speakers located on the back of her head. My client's voice resonated in my mind, was he missing his wife? Would he perhaps feel more completed if someone kept him company? I glanced at her, I bit my lip at the thought of someone else knowing about her, I felt some guilt by keeping someone that wasn't mine but... I suppose I couldn't help it, it felt as if she was an extension of my body, as if she was me, copying my movement and my knowledge, a reflection of my own self.

Granted, the term "calm before the storm" has to come from somewhere and, I don't know exactly how, but perhaps it was the rush I took for this job, or my mind being somewhere else, but what once was a clear sky slowly frowned over me, the sun hiding, the waves raging, the shine in my windows disappeared, only for droplets of rain to crash into them, one, two, four, sixteen, a hundred forty, their speed picking up faster than I could even count, I ran outside, my steps stopped dead in their tracks as a wave twice the size of my humble ship rose right in front of my very own eyes, every inch it rose, my heart sank, a shadow, no, a darkness, briefly covered most of the boat as it slammed against my dear water dog, I passed out mere half seconds after feeling the cold, salty saliva of the ocean slap my face.
Perhaps it was hours, or days I drifted in and out of slumber, brief flashes of images were painted by my eyes, the cloudy sky I had last seen, the hallways next to the bedrooms in the cabins, a bed, a grey artificial hand rubbing my chin.

Many days passed as I stayed in bed, the ship had not been moving, mostly floating from what i could tell from the window, I dragged my weak legs out of bed and stumbled around the same hallways I had been dragged around a month before, was it two months? I couldn't tell, my stomach cried and whined for something, but I knew I didn't have any rations, I almost crawled upstairs and into the console room, the water had damaged most of the terminals and radios, my hands scraped against the wet floor, puddles of water damped my knees and sleeves. And then I saw her.

I coughed and cried a faint noise, enough for her to turn around from the railing and to come aid me, her thin arms lifted me up from my armpits, helping me sit on a chair, my weak body sending me stabs of pain for every muscle I tried to move, I gazed out the panels, the blinding sun observed me, like another pitiful creature, through a curtain of clouds, the waves insulted me with mocking comments, the smell of busted machinery and smoke invaded my nostrils, almost suffocating me, the once comforting cradling from the ship had turned into a restless shake, unable to lay to rest, unable to stay awake.

I glanced at her, my eyelids almost closing by themselves, I met my own reflection, a husk of what I once was, I took a deep breath as my lungs complained, my right hand caressed the top of her head. My left hand wandered into my breast pocket, pulling out the same switch blade I used to free her a long time ago.

"You may have never been named, or born with flesh." I whispered, I rolled up my sleeve.

"You may have never breathed in the salty air that surrounds us, or felt a drop of water run down your body" I positioned the blade.

"But you have learned from me, you have been the closest you could be to a human being, to a living being, and perhaps, even a better being than I could ever be." I bit my lip.

"And for this, as my last wish, I wish for you to have my blood, to shower in it, to try and feel it, to be human, to be better than me, my last gift to you is not knowledge or stories, but the gift of being baptised." A groan let out my mouth as her hands gripped my forearm, pleading me to stop.

I let out a quiet shush, smiling as the last image in my mind is that beautiful, bright screen being tainted red, my fingers dragging themselves down the river of my gift, pleased.

D:\Logs_03\CH2\4\64.txt

 +4375726c79+

 

"Time for your medicine"

My weak lungs took a deep breath, feeling the flesh in my torso cry in pain. Another day had just begun, how long was it since I was put in this bed? My memory, a broken glass, each shard reflecting small snippets of the last day I was able to breathe normally, the cold steel floor mixing with the warm fire, melting under me, my tired legs tripping and falling, defeated, my lungs turning black, my eyes turning crimson red.

"Sir?" The voice echoed again in my head.

My sight came back to reality, a blocky figure, a flickering green light and rusted noises greeted me.
The slim metal fingers held my chin up, forcing me to face the screen, running a diagnostic on my weak frail body, its other hand press against my waist, slowly rising just under my chest, one of its finger digging into my opened wound.

I let out a groan.

"Please stay still, it will be over sooner that way." the voice soothed me, the silver extremities fully feeling my injury from the inside
My legs shook and my eyes squinted, a small trail of saliva drooled down my mouth, unable to wipe it.

 After what felt like months of waiting, its hand, now crimson red, retracted, the nurse observed the blood that dripped down the silver ends of its own extremity.
"You seem to be fit. I'll serve your dinner shortly, just a moment"

While it walked away I glanced around the room, adorned with dirty walls  and loose cables, the only piece of furniture being the unkept bed i had been resting on. I thought about leaving, crossing the door in front of me and making a sprint for the ship's life rafts, perhaps that damned tin figure was slow enough that even I, with a crutch and one leg, could outrun it.

Before I could gather enough courage for this though, that damned computer came back, I watched its chrome legs shine off the ceiling light, jealous that a machine, meant to serve people like me, could do something so basic that I wouldn't be able to do ever again.
A plate was carefully placed on my lap, fork and knife on one side, a bright, raw, red meat on the left, I looked back up.

"My apologies, it seems that our stove is broken and I'm unable to fix it, I've washed it off in the sink, it is as edible as I can make it, sir."
My hands held onto the silver cutlery as I stabbed and cut the soft meat while listening to the humming and ranting of the nurse, observing me eat.
 

"I've also noticed we've been running out of food as of late."
My knife dug into the middle of the meat.
"We also lack any kind of net or fishing rod."
The fork dug all the way into the bright red surface, squeezing the remaining blood out of it.
"I have some suggestions to remedy this"
I closed my mouth and swallowed, the cold and gummy flesh caressed my throat slowly, stopping in its tracks as a plated hand ran under my shirt, lifting it up revealing my stomach, the only part of my body that wasn't scorched or injured, the other hand pressed against it, a sharp pain began growing on the same spot, my breathing shortened as I tried to move away, the pain growing as I moved, no matter how much I hit, groaned, yelled, cried, I had to watch as my own flesh was taken away from me.

"It has not been the first time, sir, we had ran out of rations long ago."

D:\Logs_08\CH1\1\90.txt

 

 +4d61727920416e6e65+ 

As a bright light blinded me, the memories of a pen dancing around a paper started fading away, the ink crying from its tip into a black box, the click retracting the deep blue tongue back into its metallic mouth.

My ears welcomed a rusty, artificial sound, echoing around the room, my body felt the faint weight of a thin cover surrounding me from the neck down. The noise got closer and closer, the origin stopping right next to my ear, I turned my head to it, as my eyes adjusted, so did the camera lens that greeted me, repeating the noise I had been hearing, the glass eye darted above me, zooming into random parts of my body, analysing each stop carefully.

Another sound voiced itself into the room, louder than the camera, it was angry, rude, uncaring, my neck, almost petrified, slowly rocked by head to the other side, a row of steel teeth, spinning faster than what my brain could comprehend crept closer and closer to the table I was laying on, my body, stunted by fear, could only shake in response, I closed my eyes shut, clenching my teeth, as the growling from the metal turn into barking, louder by the second.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Perhaps it was the shock or some kind of blessing, but, when my eyes opened again, the noises were gone, a faint buzzing, similar to a radio, impaled my head through, unable to find its source. As I looked down, a blue tarp rested on my stomach, my right arm slowly made its way on top of it and, with all of my remaining strength I pulled it out of the way,  my face turned into a twisted, horrified painting, my body tensed up, my throat closed itself, my breathing became uneasy while I sat up, reaching into my open cavity.

A mess of thick, rubber coated wires ran down to the bottom of my stomach, a pair of large fans blew air into bags at a strange rhythm, vibrations and beeps loudly made themselves known all over my body, from beneath my skin, hair, nails, all connected to a small processor in the middle of my chest, seemingly powering it all.

My vision blurred out at the same time as the noises got louder, a black liquid drooled from my mouth and, in one last attempt to live, I threw myself out of the table, landing on the cold, concrete floor. My eyes quickly zoomed around the room until they landed on a white, old door, I began crawling, pulling the weight of my half mechanic body, ignoring the cries of pain my half gone nervous system was warning me about, each pull was more painful tan the last, I let out groans, cries, yells, in hopes that at least someone could hear me.

But alas, just as I felt my efforts were going to save me, the sound of something snapping stopped me in my tracks, I turned my head back, feeling as if my vessel had turned into stone.

And right there, the last image in my mind was printed into my mind, a broken outlet, and a dangling cable.

D:\Logs_09\CH1\1\17.txt

 +204a61736f6e+

 

My eyes slowly opened, the cold floor greeting my skin, my throat weakly shook, attempting to cry any kind of noise failing miserably. My hands smoothly slid around the floor, helping me sit up, the almost pitch black darkness hugged my body, soothing my painful headache.

A sweet buzz greeted me, a glass panel lit up, green text slowly appearing at the top of the screen.

>HAVE YOU RISEN YET?

A thin, horizontal bar slowly blinked right below the message as always, waiting for my response, my weak, thin fingers softly pressed and pushed the faded keys presented on the grey keyboard, responding to the inquiry.

>GOOD AFTERNOON, DO YOU PRESENT ANY ILLNESSES CORRELATED TO LAST MONTH'S FEVER?

No, that was, simply, a reaction from the new environment, I rubbed my eyes with my left hand as I typed the explanation, taking a deep breath.

>ARE YOU COMFORTABLE?

I glanced at the space behind the monitor, an empty box, raw cement crawling every surface my eyes could glance at, no entrance, no exit, no windows, no ventilation,  I couldn't observe the sun rising or setting, I couldn't smell petrichor after a long day of raining, I couldn't hear the chirping of birds on a summer morning, I couldn't taste a freshly grown fruit off a nearby tree, I was deprived of anything and everything, my only form of entertainment being the exact same thing I was currently fixated upon, a grey, soothing humming box of wires and lights, a friend, a parent, it kept me safe, it kept me alive.
I stopped typing for a brief moment, just to put both of my hands on top of my beloved's tower, carefully caressing it, hearing it vibrate against my brittle skin.
The screen lit up again, taking my actions as a reply

>I HAVE ONE FINAL QUESTION

Yes?

>ARE YOU HAPPY? 

Absolutely.

>GOOD.

I love you.

The humming stopped as the green lights died off, leaving me in a complete void yet again, inviting me to lay down again until I am needed.
And, like the good servant that I am, I did.