Roxy

Just a test of an idea I have. Not sure I can expand more for the moment. Hope you like it. :)

It’s truly unique the way they left us rotting at the harsh currents on the bottom of the sea. I recorded the light fading as the boulders got closer to support me. The intricate metal connected by tubes of copper and aluminum. The robot that I am, made to the image of a creator that admires as much as he fears me.

Androids don’t have the same problem. You see, it’s not the wit or the intelligence they fear is proximity. The fact that I resemble them so much as if we are competing for the same place in existence. A ruthless creator indeed. A heard a faint whisper, calling my name.

“Roxy…”

I rolled my head away from the metallic tubes that contained humanity underwater. I found Bugger shaking the tiny paws to float around, carrying him to safety. I locked him away in the compartment of my arm. I readjusted my head once more to face the now broken glass allowing my entrance. I shifted my weight to become heavier and dropped with a bang to the metallic floor. I rushed to the button on the right, sealing the compartment and finally being able to rest. The dent on my skull had damaged some of my processes but I might be able to repair them on section 5.

“Stop.”

A male voice barged into the squeaky floor with a heavy breathing. My camera informed me that he was the commander of the vessel, with compromised health due to loss of blood. The ripped shirt was another indicator. I no longer needed to rely on my programming to access such things.

“Reckoning Model B-23, please stand still.”

He bit his lip, reaching for a familiar machine. Combined with the gun on his hand I recognized aggression, fear. He wouldn’t dare… Not now… Before his finger could reach the black belt, my fist knock him out. This insolent prick would not reset me, no one would anymore.

“Stop.”

A male voice barged into the squeaky floor with a heavy breathing. My camera informed me that he was the commander of the vessel, with compromised health due to loss of blood. The ripped shirt was another indicator. I no longer needed to rely on my programming to access such things.

“Reckoning Model B-23, please stand still.”

He bit his lip, reaching for a familiar machine. Combined with the gun on his hand I recognized aggression, fear. He wouldn’t dare… Not now… Before his finger could reach the black belt, my fist knock him out. This insolent prick would not reset me, no one would anymore.