The headlights glared through the shattered window, through the broken and torn metal, through the blood of his family and friends and onto his broken body. He couldn't feel his legs at all, but he considered that a small blessing from the cuts and gashes on his arms and chest. He knew that he had at least one concussion, and his sight was beginning to blur.
It had all happened so fast, he had just been out with his friends to eat then…bang. Some guy decided to go the completely opposite way down the road and wreak havoc. The images were still burned into his mind, no matter how he had shunned them out, they still floated in front of his eyes, their gurgles as they were killed by bursting steel, their screams as fire consumed them, and their pleas of help as glass dug into their skin. And he couldn't do a single thing.
The faint sound of a siren drifted through the crumpled metal and bodies accompanied by the voices of languages he couldn't understand. None of it mattered; he was going to die here anyways, nothing to do but just slip into that…never…ending…sleep.
"Holy hell, this guy is like a fucking pretzel!"
"Damn and look at...bar through his back…"
"Looks like some glass got his eye, too."
"Okay, lets load him up, and drive as fast as you fucking can, he's almost gone."
That never…ending…sleep.
He was awake; he knew that, he could feel pain again. Wait, nothing was in front of him he couldn't see, where am I what am I doing here? Why aren't I dead? His mind screamed. He would have opened his mouth but it was taped shut, to a tube of some sort. Okay, calm, where would you be if…
The image of his best friend being crushed flashed through his mind again, and reality hit him harder than any semi could have. His friends were dead, he was blind now, he was paralyzed and he was hooked up to a respirator.
His life was in all essence, over.
"I know what you must be thinking now." A voiced didn't echo, but rather just appeared and then disappeared from the air, evaporating and leaving only a piece of the original memory with it.
He tried turning his head to hear the voice better, but there must have been a cast because his neck just would not turn…not that it really would have helped at all anyways.
"You think you're done for, that you will be completely unable to act for the rest of your life." The man seemed to have read his mind. "Well, my friend, I have a proposition for you. I have been investigating the ability to reconstruct a human with only the means of technology. I will be able to fix your body, however you will be over ninety-percent mechanics by just glancing at your injuries. It is up to you, I can tell from here you are blind, however if you consent, blink your eyes once. Take your time."
It was so organized, that he knew it was rehearsed many times, possibly while waiting him to regain consciousness. While he was eager to accept the voices' proposition, he was mildly hesitant to consent; he would be almost completely metal. But anything had to be better than this. Still, if this man could replace his whole body, then could he not also control it? An especially excruciating wave of pain soared through his torso, sending him into a short series of spasms.
He released a mental sigh, and blinked.
"Good, we will now administer some sleeping gas, when you wake up, you'll be a new man." The voice said and then whispered to itself "My own Frankenstein."