I wanted to dedicate this chapter to Has-Bei, whose flattering review on this fiction gave me the needed encouragement to continue. Thank you, Has-Bei, I appriciate it greatly.
*
I couldn't face my brother like this. My clothes torn, my eyes red and scratchy, my spirit broken... He'd never let me live it down, I'd be hearing about this for the rest of my existance; he'd drill it into my head that a mere _human_ had made me cry.
Androids don't cry, I could hear him saying. You're weak, 18, you're pathetic.
So what? my mind retorted.
I stopped dead in my tracks, appaled and stunned at the thought. 'So what?' There was no other purpose to live than to destroy. I needed to carry out Gero's orders, though the late Doctor was long gone. I couldn't really think of anything else to do--and besides, what was more fun than hearing blood curdling screams echoing through the night, the despirate cries for mercy? Seeing the light of fires buring out of control, enveloping a city in just one night, and destroying buildings and lives in an instant? Feeling my lips curl into a grin at the thought, I laughed softly to myself. All of this foolish nonsene with Trunks... It had all been a joke, my mind had been testing me. Of all the people I'd killed, not one of them had left a were still living on in my heart, I didn't give them a single thought.
Perhaps that was because I knew that if I had...they would never have left me alone.
I was reminded of one of the warriors I had killed. The arrogant one...what had his name been? He was Trunks' father... I couldn't place the name, though his face was swimming around in my mind. True, I hadn't known his name or his origin, but his pride moved me. I knew I could have killed him instantly, but chose to let him continue to fool himself. He had it in his mind he was more powerful than I, and I had merely added kindling to the small flame of hope. But, after finding the hope annoying, I decided to blow out the fire. His life, like his pride, was over. Pride gets you nowhere, I learned quickly. It's all about strength. So far, I had only perfected physical strength. Was Dr. Gero testing me on emotional strength, as he lie beyond the grave? The idea was laughable, but in the situation I was in at the moment, it was somewhat haunting. Suddenly expecting to see the Doctor's figure confront me, walking out of the smoke rising from a nearby building, I shuddered. Perhaps sleep was toying with my mind.
As I walked through the remains of the city, I stopped as I noticed a small clothing store. Looking down at my dirty appearance, I stepped into the deserted shopping area, my eyes scanning the rubble for any signs of life. There was no one. Seeing a rack of clothing from the corner of my eye, I gave in to the one human urge that remained in me--the urge to shop, to own new things. Things that were mine and mine only. 17 could wait...
*
As I entered the code into the security pad just outside the Doctor's cliffside laboratory, I fingered the soft fabric of my newest find--a large, warm sweater whose length reached to my fingertips and ended just above my waist. It was a dark magenta, a color I had come to find comforting. I had managed to dig it out from the back room of the store, along with a pair of dark jeans with a slight fade to them. I had put a thin leather belt over the waist of the sweater, outlining my figure. The outfit fit me perfectly. Chuckling slightly, I reminded myself that _everything_ fit me perfectly. Gero had built me that way. The physical form of allurement, the absolute envisionment of beauty. Besides, the mere meaning of the word "android" meant "posessing human-like features."
As the metalic door slid open, I ducked into the lab, looking around unconcernedly to find where my brother was. My efforts were in vain--he was either out having his midmorning fun, or in the other room, sleepily lazily with the television on. 17 had always enjoyed television--Dr. Gero had told me something about how much my brother had watched the foolish box before he had met the Doctor. I had never been curious of our pasts. Why should I have been? The past is unchangeable, what's the use in knowing things about who I used to be? My past friends, family, habits... They were meaningless to me know. Perhaps I had been happy in the past, perhaps I hadn't. The past was immaterial now. Posessions and memories weren't needed or useful. I had accepted my role as a seductive killing machine without looking back. There was nothing to look back on, I realized.
Sighing as I ran a weary hand through my hair, I pulled it back, digusted. I was filthy, the need for a bath was unavoidable. Finding my way to the washroom, I sat down near the large bathtub, turning the handle to encourage the hot water forth. Feeling the liquid rush over my hand, I let the tub fill to the brim, shedding my new clothes and stepping into the water. I met with the warm sensation all over my dirty limbs, and I began scrubbing them, intent on ridding my pale skin of the filth. As my skin began to come clean, I felt as though the previous day's events were rubbing off as well. With each stroke of the soap-ridden sponge, I felt the memories of my fight with Trunks ebb away. I was safe now, he was nowhere near. My foolish weakness to him was well hidden; 17 would never know. 17 didn't _need_ to know.
I sank deeper into the pleasant water, closing my eyes, finally comfortable and at rest. It was a new day... Anything could happen.
*
I couldn't face my brother like this. My clothes torn, my eyes red and scratchy, my spirit broken... He'd never let me live it down, I'd be hearing about this for the rest of my existance; he'd drill it into my head that a mere _human_ had made me cry.
Androids don't cry, I could hear him saying. You're weak, 18, you're pathetic.
So what? my mind retorted.
I stopped dead in my tracks, appaled and stunned at the thought. 'So what?' There was no other purpose to live than to destroy. I needed to carry out Gero's orders, though the late Doctor was long gone. I couldn't really think of anything else to do--and besides, what was more fun than hearing blood curdling screams echoing through the night, the despirate cries for mercy? Seeing the light of fires buring out of control, enveloping a city in just one night, and destroying buildings and lives in an instant? Feeling my lips curl into a grin at the thought, I laughed softly to myself. All of this foolish nonsene with Trunks... It had all been a joke, my mind had been testing me. Of all the people I'd killed, not one of them had left a were still living on in my heart, I didn't give them a single thought.
Perhaps that was because I knew that if I had...they would never have left me alone.
I was reminded of one of the warriors I had killed. The arrogant one...what had his name been? He was Trunks' father... I couldn't place the name, though his face was swimming around in my mind. True, I hadn't known his name or his origin, but his pride moved me. I knew I could have killed him instantly, but chose to let him continue to fool himself. He had it in his mind he was more powerful than I, and I had merely added kindling to the small flame of hope. But, after finding the hope annoying, I decided to blow out the fire. His life, like his pride, was over. Pride gets you nowhere, I learned quickly. It's all about strength. So far, I had only perfected physical strength. Was Dr. Gero testing me on emotional strength, as he lie beyond the grave? The idea was laughable, but in the situation I was in at the moment, it was somewhat haunting. Suddenly expecting to see the Doctor's figure confront me, walking out of the smoke rising from a nearby building, I shuddered. Perhaps sleep was toying with my mind.
As I walked through the remains of the city, I stopped as I noticed a small clothing store. Looking down at my dirty appearance, I stepped into the deserted shopping area, my eyes scanning the rubble for any signs of life. There was no one. Seeing a rack of clothing from the corner of my eye, I gave in to the one human urge that remained in me--the urge to shop, to own new things. Things that were mine and mine only. 17 could wait...
*
As I entered the code into the security pad just outside the Doctor's cliffside laboratory, I fingered the soft fabric of my newest find--a large, warm sweater whose length reached to my fingertips and ended just above my waist. It was a dark magenta, a color I had come to find comforting. I had managed to dig it out from the back room of the store, along with a pair of dark jeans with a slight fade to them. I had put a thin leather belt over the waist of the sweater, outlining my figure. The outfit fit me perfectly. Chuckling slightly, I reminded myself that _everything_ fit me perfectly. Gero had built me that way. The physical form of allurement, the absolute envisionment of beauty. Besides, the mere meaning of the word "android" meant "posessing human-like features."
As the metalic door slid open, I ducked into the lab, looking around unconcernedly to find where my brother was. My efforts were in vain--he was either out having his midmorning fun, or in the other room, sleepily lazily with the television on. 17 had always enjoyed television--Dr. Gero had told me something about how much my brother had watched the foolish box before he had met the Doctor. I had never been curious of our pasts. Why should I have been? The past is unchangeable, what's the use in knowing things about who I used to be? My past friends, family, habits... They were meaningless to me know. Perhaps I had been happy in the past, perhaps I hadn't. The past was immaterial now. Posessions and memories weren't needed or useful. I had accepted my role as a seductive killing machine without looking back. There was nothing to look back on, I realized.
Sighing as I ran a weary hand through my hair, I pulled it back, digusted. I was filthy, the need for a bath was unavoidable. Finding my way to the washroom, I sat down near the large bathtub, turning the handle to encourage the hot water forth. Feeling the liquid rush over my hand, I let the tub fill to the brim, shedding my new clothes and stepping into the water. I met with the warm sensation all over my dirty limbs, and I began scrubbing them, intent on ridding my pale skin of the filth. As my skin began to come clean, I felt as though the previous day's events were rubbing off as well. With each stroke of the soap-ridden sponge, I felt the memories of my fight with Trunks ebb away. I was safe now, he was nowhere near. My foolish weakness to him was well hidden; 17 would never know. 17 didn't _need_ to know.
I sank deeper into the pleasant water, closing my eyes, finally comfortable and at rest. It was a new day... Anything could happen.