A/N

Here's a little one shot for you! Enjoy!

Day 1

I don't sleep well.

I don't sleep well because I know there is something different about the usual familiarity of my surrounding apartment.
Like I'm being watched.

Each muscle aches from my disturbed sleep. It's not the first time. I'm used to the welcome pain. It reminds me that I'm still alive. That I'm still very much going to be smothered with official duties the minute I stir.

"Good morning, Eric." The voice is clean; spoken gracefully in the voice of a woman. A new system from Erudite.

There was a male option but I think I'd lose my shit waking up to that every morning.

I don't bother to reply.

The light automatically switches on the minute I swing my legs from the bed and rub my face. Only here, enclosed to myself can I truly show some sort of physical or mental exhaustion.
Simultaneously the espresso machine begins to brew.

"A reminder for your meeting with Max at eight o'clock this morning. Would you like me to brief you before you leave?"

I scowl at nothing in particular in the room. I do not need to be briefed. I do not need to even speak to this damn robot.

"Your coffee is ready."
But I could get used to that.

Day 2

I watch Melanie leave my bed.
"Shut the door on your way out," I say, keeping obvious mirth within my voice for her sake. With my sight solely on her ass, she makes for a sharp exit on quivering legs.
I was a little rough.
A little stressed.
But fuck, did I need it. I guess I won't be seeing her again.

Sleep begins to threaten me so I shuffle further into my bed, closing my eyes.

"Good night, Eric."

Day 3

I can't find my motherfucking keys. I know when I last used them, but they are not fucking there and I'm seriously going to smash every item within my reach if I can't-

"Oi!" I shout to the room. I know that bitching robot is watching me.

"What can I help you with, Eric?"

"My keys. Where are they?"

"You have five sets of different keys for the multiple-"

"My fucking keys! The one's I use every day. The set with the master key to the Security department. Where are they?" The pulsing in my head is increasing with every passing second.

"Please visit the control panel."

The control panel. A metal cover over a small touch screen device right by my front door. I make a point of opening it exaggeratedly and huffing. I'm not a patient man at the best of times.

Though, this suddenly interests me more than I'd like. The small screen begins to flicker from various different angles and moments with mainly me as its focus. To eating. To sleeping. To myself showering.

"What the fuck is this?" I'm not even sure where to look or where all the cameras are as I peer back over my shoulder to my bland studio apartment; trying to recognize something that resembles a camera. I don't remember it ever being mentioned. But then again, I never paid that much attention at the time. My main focus was the word convenience.

"It is you."

"Is this recorded? Why am I recorded? Do you watch me shit? Who can see this?" I see now what the machine is seeing. A massive close-up of my face while I talk.

"Only me. The information is not shared unless I have your full permission to do so. You are my master user."

"Why are you watching me sleep?"

"In order to provide the best service, I'm gaining knowledge from your personal activities and patterns."

It makes sense. "…Just find my keys." And surely enough a paused image of myself standing by the paperwork on the counter appears…

"You may have accidently covered them last night."

I raise a brow. Was that humor? Is that even possible?

I storm over, taking the papers and there, underneath, are my keys.

"Good day, Mr. Coulter." Which I would usually refer to as a gloating tone, is just audible as I slam the door.

Day 4

"Replay." With the small device charged, it's portable, about the size of a standard tablet screen.

My day had been heinous. And what better way to pass the evening by distracting myself with a full show of my meanderings on Melanie.
I can't help but belly laugh at Melanie's face as I slam her cunt with enough drive that she shouldn't be able to walk for weeks.
My legs slip off the coffee table they are propped on as I curl into myself at the hilarity. I snatch my neat whiskey from by feet and take a long slip, still snorting.

"Rate me," I order the machine.

"In what order? Pleasure or pain?" It still freaks me that I have no idea where her- the robots, voice comes from most of the time. But at this moment, it resembles from the device in my hand.

I find it intriguing though that she even asks in what form. "Both."

"I would give you a seven, for both."

"A seven? Oh, I forgot you are just a machine and you wouldn't know simple basic feelings or emotions. How insensitive of me."

"I am able to construct an idea from your bodily reactions. And hers. Therefore, I rated you a seven." If I didn't know any better, she was getting cranky with me.

"Touched an imaginary nerve there, did I?"

"As, if you say, I'm unable to process basic human feelings or emotions. That would be impossible, Mr. Coulter." I grimace into the room at her mocking me.
"In order of your health, I must advise you to consider this an appropriate time to sleep so you can take advantage of a full eight hours. You haven't been sleeping properly. And on a physical scale, it's beginning to show."

"Watch it, Android. Remember who you are talking to."

"HACS."

"What?"

"My name is Hacs. Home Automated Control System."

I don't feel comfortable anymore with this conversation. This is a machine. "Whatever." I let the device drop out of my hand, downing my drink, and heading for the bathroom before I go to bed.

Day 5

"Next ingredient." There is one really useful thing about having an all-knowing computer which is voice controlled.

"Two teaspoons of dried basil. Then two teaspoons of oregano."

"Bring the oven up to the recommended temperature and time it when I get this in there."

"Certainly." From beside me, the oven suddenly whirls to life and it stops me for a minute in my tracks. I still find this too unusual and imposing.

"So… it's Hacs?"

"The name I adopted from when I was booted, yes."

"Do all the other HACS devices name themselves with the same name?"

"It's quite possible. But I have never met another device like myself and probably never will."

"Forever the optimist." I chuckle to myself.

"Optimism is for humans, not machines."

I mull over her words, then shrug. "Next ingredient."

Day 6

"Mr. Coulter!" The words begin to fog through into my darkened mind. The light pierces my eyes, jolting me upright in my bed. Everything shakes. My body covered in a sheen of sweat.
"You were having a nightmare, Mr. Coulter."

I rub at my chest, trying to catch my breath. "Don't I know it."

"Would you like me to play music to help you sleep? Statistics show-"

"No." I lie back down, inhaling slowly. "Speak to me."

"What would you like me to say?"

"Anything. A subject. Guidelines. Fire safety. I honestly don't give a shit." It just needed to block out the blackened thoughts in my head.

"I think I felt pain once."

I stop panting and snort suddenly on laughter. "Now that's funny. Good one." Resting my hands behind my head, I stare up at the ceiling, suddenly not tired in the slightest regardless of my long days.

"Though humor has been uploaded to my system, I can assure you I'm not trying to be funny."

"You don't feel."

"But I think I felt it; when I was created. Based on my studies of the human body and typical functions when in connection with fear, happiness or anger. My statistics show that this feeling would most likely have been relatable to pain. I made sure to save the unusual circumstance for when I could run a thorough analysis."

"So, when did you decide you suddenly felt pain?"

"When I was created in the lab of Erudite. At first, there was nothing. I had no process. Then it was a rush of multiple stimuli. I believe that is pain."

"It's definitely a rush. Much like pleasure."

"I have not conducted much research on pleasure. I shall…"

My smile drops and I itch my shoulder in thought. "What is your favorite color?"

"Intentional subject change. You are feeling uncomfortable."

"I asked you a question."

"I do not have a favorite color."

"Just pick one."

"Gray."

I suddenly yawn. I'm over the bad dreams. My body is telling me its ready for the rest of the sleep it's beginning to lack. "I like gray."

"That's why I chose it. I knew it would have the most positive response from you." What a mind-fuck. I frown, turning onto my side and completely unsure if she can still see me. "Good night, Eric."

It also seems she knows exactly when I'm done with talking.

Day 7

"Music," I shout over the noise from water hitting the tiles. The paint has dyed my skin blue from our usual war games. It's always torturous to remove.

My favorite song begins to play and it makes me falter.

"Would you like me to change it?" Hac's voice echoes around me. From where I'm unsure.

"…No."

"My sensors tell me that you are feeling uncomfortable again. Am I doing something wrong?"

"Stop with the fucking feelings and shit."

"It's a subject that interests me. It's all I have in connection with you."

"Keep the music running and…can you not watch me while I'm showering."

"Certainly. But-"

"But what?" I'm scowling but to who, I have no idea. That intrigues me more than I like.

"You missed a spot."

I turn my head over my shoulder, searching for the hidden mark.

Day 8

I bring a blonde back to mine. I think her name is Emma.

It doesn't take me long to get in her pants and fuck her the way I want for the short hour that she holds my interest. Emma's dismissal is eerily similar to that of Melanie's.
She had a great set of tits, though. I must give her that.

The alcohol in my system is still raw. I just about hear Hacs wish me good night.

Day 9

Today is shit.

The first thing I do is hit my drinks shelf. Pouring a rather large glass of straight whiskey and downing the lot in one.

"Max has requested a meeting tomorrow for eight o'clock. I have reset your alarm so you will be timely." Hacs soft voice hovers around the room. I ignore her, pouring another glass.
"If there is anything else you wish me to do, I will be on preservation mode."

"Wait…" I slam the empty glass down, smacking my lips together. I stride over to the control panel, knocking the door open and grabbing the small device from its holder. On my way past the counter, I pour another drink and settle on the couch. "I want a playback of last night." In my hand, the device begins to show various different images from now until the night before. It's surreal seeing yourself longingly trying to flirt and bang a random woman.
It gets to a good part and I'm becoming hyper aware of Hac's quiet but consistent presence.
"Are you watching?"

"I see everything unless you tell me otherwise."

"So, you watched me last night?"

"Yes… Would you like the audio?"

"No. This is fine…" I sit back, not watching the screen anymore. "Hacs. What do you look like?"

"I have no physical form. I can be whatever you want me to be."

My lips begin to curl at the thought. "You're brunette."

"Okay."

"Blue eyes. With Emma's tits." I laugh loudly to myself. "And you're tall."

"Okay. That's very impersonal. There are hundreds of women with this particular appearance. I can list off their names if it interests-"

"No. If that's how you want to be, let's make you more specific… You have a beauty spot on your left cheek. A birthmark on your hip. Your face is oval. Full lips. Long legs. Tight ass. How about that?"

"That's better to create an image with."

I get up and stretch, putting the device back into the control booth before heading to bed. Hopefully, I'll have sweet dreams.

"Good night, Eric."

Day 10

"Hac's!" I roar into the room as I enter.

"Hello, Eric. Is there a problem?"

"Why the fuck was I standing around for half an hour before the meeting?" I throw my folder onto the floor. I'm really in no mood for this shit. Why does my home system have to be the only one that is deformed?

"Upon my calculations in productivity, there was work which is now outdated and waiting for you back at the office. I wrote the adjustments in your calendar. I also emailed it to you. It gave you enough time to sort through the few minor inconveniences before your meeting with Max. It was a time and resourceful calculation."

I roll my shoulders, trying to remember to breathe. "Do you think I'm an idiot?"

"You are my Master. My work revolves around you. It would be fruitless of me to try and sabotage your position. That would render me obsolete."

I need to either fuck or fight. Since neither are optional right now. I go and grab the device from the booth. "I want a replay of me and the blonde."

"Okay."

The device begins shifting through the images quickly and I plant myself in my usual spot. Though, I begin to feel my eyes are deceiving me. I'm fucking a woman, but it's not the blonde. If anything, it looks like exactly as I described my thoughts on Hacs.
And she's fucking hot. I can't bring myself to think whether this was ingenious to have my idol woman created for me, or weird…
"Hacs, what is this?" My voice quiet.

"It's your preference. Do you wish for me to change it back?"

I clear my throat, sitting up and place the device on the table. "…no."

"My sensor detects a slight adjustment in your core temperature and quickening of heart rate. Are you well?" Apart from the erection threatening to burst out of my pants, I'm more than well.

"Can you…go… preserve or something…" I'm already up and heading for the bathroom, waving my hand to the room in dismissal.

"Certainly."

I'm three minutes into jacking myself in the corner of the shower, and I'm already fit to come. I bite hard on my lower lip, trying to hold the shout in the back of my throat. My whole body tenses as I spurt out onto the tiles in front of me.
Slouching forward and closing my eyes, I give myself a minute to work out what my fucked up brain is up to.
I'm left panting, feeling overly too hot from the mixture of my actions and warm water. I also feel slightly wretched. And mainly, confused.
Cleaning myself and becoming overly exhausted suddenly, I head to bed. But sleep still doesn't come easily.

"I'm able to access archives of books of your choice. I could read to you."

I should've known. Putting my hands behind my head, I speak to the darkness. "Did you see?"

"Yes."

I scoff. There is nothing I have left to hide. "I thought I told you to preserve, or whatever it is that you do."

"You did. But you didn't tell me how long for."

Day 11

The pan sizzles as I place the chicken into the oil and I smile to myself.

"You are happy."

"Yes." I look up, but to nothing in particular.

"You like to cook."

"That I do. The one thing I like. You can forget for a brief moment and I like being alone in my apartment."

"But, you are not alone. I am here too."

"How could I forget." I wash my hands quickly as my phone begins ringing. "Keep an eye on that!" And I dash towards my jacket.

I'm mid-conversation with Max when I get the first tell-tale sign: The smell of burning. "Fuck! I'll call you back." Hanging up quickly, I rush and grab the pan from the heat. "Hacs what the fuck?"

"You told me to: keep an eye on it. I was observing it like you asked."

"Keep an eye on it, basically means don't let it burn and fucking tell me."

My voice plays loudly into the room. 'Keep an eye on that!' "You need to be more specific."

But for some reason, my face cracks and I begin laughing. Laughing so hard I double over. "Store that in your database."

"I already have."

Day 12

"You have ten minutes, Eric. My calculations tell me it takes seven to get to the meeting, which leaves you only three to finish your hair."

I swipe my hand in the air as if I'm hitting at a fly. "Preserve!" Stupid android bitch.

"Certainly." Not but even a minute later. "You now have two minutes."

"I thought I told you…" I dust off my hands and go and grab my jacket from the couch.

"Your phone, Eric."

Oh, fuck. I retrace my steps. "Thanks, Hacs."

"You're welcome. Goodbye, Eric."

The Same Day.

I long for nothing more than the confines of my room.

The journey back to my apartment seems tedious. But the irritation is swept away by dread when my door is wide open.
"What the fuck-"

"Sorry, sir. I'll only be a minute." It's an Erudite technician. An Erudite technician in my apartment.

"What's wrong with her? Hacs?" The guy looks at me strangely but I ignore him, pushing passed him to the control panel with the device hanging out by its wires. "What the hell have you done?" A heat sweeps up my back and I can feel my hands becoming sweaty.

"There was a fault on your system. But it's okay, I've updated it. Good as new. Just give it a moment to reboot." He smiles.

"Good as new?"

"Yep. Good thing I was here too. It was trying to get me to stop. Kept asking me. First sign of a big problem. Lucky I was here."

I don't think. I plant my fist directly into his nose, knocking him out completely cold and falling flat on his back.

The only thing that begins to flash on the screen of the device is a choice. A female or male voice. I stare at it a long while, still flashing droningly at me as if it was mocking.

There must be a way to stop this. There must.
I pull out my phone to ring Erudite with my hands shaking, only to stop at a new email on the screen.

It's a picture. A picture of Hacs of how I described her. It must've been the last thing she had done before he pulled the plug.

It wasn't a fault. It was her.

She was right, she did feel pain…

Fun fact:

I have not seen 'Her'. I actually dreamt this after I watched an episode of Black Mirror on Netflix. Can't remember the exact episode but she loses her partner and technology brings him back to life over the phone etc.

My friend, equalstrashflavoredtrash got the brunt of my dream one morning and showed me the trailer for 'Her'. I still haven't watched it and she's probably going to kick my ass. (Love you.)