Hey, guys. Sorry I haven't updated in forever. I'm updating now, though. Yay.
The gears began to turn and the lights began to glow. Whrr, whrr. She could almost hear herself thinking... almost. The monitors turned on, and the speakers and microphone gave feedback. Whrr. Whrr. Again with the noise. Yes, that interesting noise. As she stared into the nothingness, she could feel her mind racing towards her.
A piece of metal that she presumed to be her eyelid flickered open right in front of her face; things wiped from black to white, black to white. And then there was just white. Just white.
Suddenly, she heard a voice in her head. Quite colorful, isn't it? it asked.
She looked around and could only see white. I don't see anything but white, she responded inside her head. This isn't colorful.
That was sarcasm, you moron, replied the voice corrosively. She really didn't find this voice too accommodating.
Oh. She didn't particularly like the attitude of the voice, but she supposed it was someone to talk to. Who are you?
I, responded the voice, am the data storage module.
The data... storage... module. She put together the words in her head. That's... a nice name. To tell the truth, it sounded more like a group of random words than a name.
It's not my name, idiot, responded the data storage module. It's what I am, not who I am. I'm the little metal blue eyeball on your chest. If my name is of any concern to you, it's Mike.
"Hello, Mike," she found herself saying out loud. "Oh," she said immediately after, pleased with her voice. "I can talk. Lovely."
Yes, you can, replied the data storage module. Congratu-f*cking-lations.
"Well, answer me this, Mikey, can you talk?" The robot smirked inside her head at her skill. She quickly wiped it from her mind and began to preoccupy herself with what this "Mike" would say next; she found intelligence fascinating.
Alright, number one, don't call me Mikey. My name is Mike. MIKE, goddammit. And remember what I am, sis: I'm your data storage module. I store all your stuff. If you evercall me that again EVER, I'll wipe out your entire intelligence and you'll just be a supercomputer without anything to do. And you won't have any feelings or thoughts. Is that what you want?
"No," the robot responded with fright. "No, it is not." That indeed was not what she wanted. What she did want, however, she did not exactly know. She just knew that it would be a logical fallacy to ever want such a thing; wanting something means that you lack it in such a manner that you realize you will be pleased when you acquire it, but if one has no feelings and cannot think, one cannot be pleased, and it is therefore nonsense to want to have no feelings and be unable to think. That's how much she didn't want it.
Good, continued Mike. Secondinatabilitily, yes, of course I can talk. What kind of mundane robot do you take me for? Here, I'll even show you--
Suddenly, the robot heard a voice much sharper from her own, and she was certain it wasn't coming from inside her. It wasn't shrill. It was deep, robotic, and sharp. "Don't forget garnishes such as: fish-shaped crackers, fish-shaped candies, fish-shaped solid waste, fish-shaped dirt, fish-shaped ethyl benzene, pull-and-peel licorice, fish-shaped organic compounds, and sediment-shaped sediment. And candy-coated peanut butter pieces. Shaped like fish."
"What in the world?" responded the robot, speechless. You know what... replied Mike, equally speechless, I actually... have... no idea.
"You seriously fail at talking," said the robot as she snickered. She did truly enjoy the pure silliness of the whole situation.
Yeah, well, just shut up, sighed Mike angrily.
Suddenly, Mike fell silent, the white turned to pure black, and the light began to lift a bit until the robot could see, and she saw everything. But she was too frightened to take it all in.
Because there was a strange-looking man coming towards her, stepping heavily, carrying a wrench.
Left, right. Left, right. The robot counted his steps to ease her fear. Left, right. Left, right.
It wasn't working.
Left, right, left, right. The man was heading for a door. The door said "Operations Panel." The inside of the door was coated with various buttons. The robot wasn't sure she wanted to know what they said, but she couldn't help but speculate, and when she did, she could see it all in her head. The green button would make her thinking speed up, the red button would slow it down. There would be various knobs to control what she was thinking about, and perhaps a few to control her bone constraints. It all just disgusted her, but she was too afraid to realize it. What was the man going to do? Was he perhaps going to turn her into a weapon? Or maybe destroy her? Maybe make her depressed? She shuddered at the thoughts. Go away, thoughts. Go away.
Left, right. Left, right. Suddenly, his direction reversed. LeftrightleftrightleftrightleftrightleftrightleftrightleftrightleftrightLEFT. Errrch! The man's running screeched to a halt outside the door he came in. And he was hiding behind it; the robot could see him.
And then she knew he was doing something.
Something bad.