Fallen Angel
JennyRogue
Colder than ice is the feeling he's got, give him some vice tonight let him walk tall
He's a fallen angel, fallen angel, fallen angel full of sins, he jumped too high and then he lost his wings...
Chapter 1 - Silence
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Drip.
Drip.
The sound of fluid dripping from the nearby packet of nutrients was the only sound in this dank hospital room. He had been sperated from those who cared for him, from the one who had saved his life. Turbinski glanced at the bag of notrients. It had amused him when the nurses realised they couldn't stick it into his arm - he had had both ripped off after all. The confused nurses had ended up putting it it his leg. God that had been painful.
Drip.
Drip.
How long was it going to be before the scientists from Russia got here? They were shipping him a new pair of arms. It had already been a week since his match, what was taking them so long?! It felt so degrading having to be helped by the nurses to do things he could have done on his own - if he had his arms. The scientists were probably laughing at him, laughing at the failure he was. Had they abandoned him...?
The darkness of the night sky only illimunated the billboard promoting the Chojin Crown finals. Of course it was Kevin Mask who adorned the billboard. Idiots. Talk about adding insult to injury. The pitter patter of rain hitting the glass brought Turbinski back from the violent thoughts running through his mind. He took a deep breath and lay back against the pillows once more, turning his face away from the window. He tried to think about anything else other then thw man who did this too him.
Drip.
Drip.
Turbinski glanced down at his body, feeling naked, even though he wore a hospital gown. Soon after he arrived at the hospital, they had removed his damaged armour, headgear and the fulcrum thruster, which was beyond repair. Doctor Bombay had healed Turbinski's wounds to the best of his abillity, but the healing process had left a large scar running from his neck to his belly button. The doctor had said that the scar would remain there for the rest of his life - a constant reminder of his failure.
Drip.
Drip.
He hated not having his armour. Turbinski hated his body, it gave the impression that he was human when clearly he was not. Humans had choice, free will. Robots did not. Robots were created to serve humans - that was all they were supposed to do. And although he had the body of a human, he had the mind of a robot. His surrogate mother, Vera, had tried to convince him for years that he was different. That he was not a robot, but the laborotory's brainwashing could not be removed so easily. He had lived in the lab for as long as he could remember. He knew nothing about his real parents. Turbinski had lied about his so called "family" when he was in the Chojin Crown, he had none. He had lied so that the lab's illegal experiments wouldn't come into the spotlight. The lab's daily routine was drilled into his head: Turbinski would awake at six am sharp, then four hours of non-stop training. Then he had his check up while Vera taught his different languages. Then another six hours training before learning how to mingle with humans, almost as if they were training him to be a spy. Finally he learned about the history of Chojin wrestling, and about the lab's last experiment; the infamous Warsman. Then it time for sleep at ten pm. He was used to this routine, and never fought with the scientists about it, so it came as a surprise when he routine was suddenly stopped and he was shipped off to Japan to fight in the Chojin Crown. He hadn't even competed in any qualifying rounds. Turbinski had a sneaky suspicion that his entry had been bought by the government.
Drip.
Drip.
The Russian was getting sick and tired of that sound. He yelled out for a nurse but no-one came. He hadn't even been given a buzzer. What if he had been in a dire emergency? But of course, no-one cared about the losers. He was already forgotten in the eyes of the fans. Those who had screamed his name when he defeated Destruction now yelled for Kevin Mask. Turbinski had ultimately decided that the fans were like sheep and that they blindly flocked who ever was the shepherd. That thought brought up a terryfingly amuisng mental image of Kevin Mask covered in sheep dung which made the Russian laugh hysterically for a few moments.
Drip.
Drip.
His thoughts evantually returned to the match, to the agonised pain he felt as his arms were ripped clean off by Kevin's OLAP. It had been so painful that his visor in his headgear had started malfunctioning, evantually breaking all together so he couldn't see anything. His armour and headgear reacted to his body, so it hadn't been all surprising. In the end, it was a good thing that the visor had broken. Turbinski didn't want to imagine what it would have been like to see the ground rushing up to him, unable to stop himself from crashing into the ground. Luckily for him, Meat had been there and saved him, or surely he would have not survived. The thought was enough to traumatize him from ever flying again.
Drip.
Drip.
Damn, that sound was going to drive him insane.
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To Be Continued.