Cyberpunk: Less Than Human

Night City/ City Centre/ 0200 September 3rd 2078

I was surrounded by dead meat. Shot, stabbed and stamped. One hand stained with blood, the other had an empty gun in hand. I was sent in to retrieve a target, I hope she wasn't caught in the crossfire. I stood up and spat an ear out of my mouth from I don't know who. I was in an apartment, one at that belonging to an Arasaka suit rich enough to have multiple rooms and buy enough muscle. The others in suits could have been guests. The once fine painted fleur on the wallpaper, art hanging on lush, carpeted floor was stained red. It even had real leather couches from real cows. The bodies appeared like an amateur butcher had run through with a chainsaw and forgotten which parts to cut for the meat while the livestock was still moving. I nearly tripped over a headless torso, hitting the floor. I closed my optics, with my grabber tearing at synth-hair. The room started to glitch; items displaced themselves. The black dog growling as it defended its meal, bloodies jaws as it bit the dead man's head, he was already missing an ear. I heard cries come from another room, while my fingers tore up the carpet, arms popped open, blades poised to spring and start carving, the drunken butcher. I forced myself up and barged into the kitchen surface, staring at myself in the reflective marble. The black eyes with red Iris' pale skin, stained crimson. The edges of my vision became infected with static. I reached inside my coat pocket and stabbed the hypo into my arm. The colour returned to the world in an instant, senses were fully functional. I turned back to see no signs of the mutt. Running systems check on my H.U.D the damage was highlighted, a few low calibre bullet dents underneath my coat, hitting an ebony carapace, the colour of my body from the neck down. I, recalled my operating system's memory. I was in a van; it was early on a Saturday in Night city. I was sent to collect something, at the base of someone's neck, and silence/slaughter the people who saw. Grab the chip/corpse. Alive, she was needed alive. I washed my hands, my brain was told it was cold, washing my face. I stood up straight, and stepped into the room, giving it a quick scan. The human female lay on the bed with two golden strips wrapped around her neck, a doll-chip, though something was interfering with it. She tilted her head at me, dressed as maid from two hundred years ago. A whimpering mess backed against the corner; he wasn't priority.
"Mon Dieu." She covered her mouth speaking French that would have been fluent, had the accent not been distinctly Mexican. She brushed my body with a feather duster. "You are so dirty." Her slim fingers worked her way over my body. I stood there waiting for her to show me the back of her neck. I lost patience when she tried to grab my private's, grasping at air. I threw her onto the bed. "You wish I cleaned something else, while this bed is awfully dusty." She spoke as if this was a set for an adult production. Acted like it to, when bending over she hiked her dress up to try and show me her underwear. I leaned over, pressing the nape of her neck, extracting the device, watching her fall unconscious. A tiny rectangle with a red casing and black wires, I placed it in my pocket, focus turning to the mess in the corner. Scans revealed he was Adrian Smith, working in R&D. The limbic brain had a fight or flight reaction, as the predator noticed its prey, only then did the mess decide to move. A knife scratched my outer shell. I shoved Adrian against the wall, while he tried to shield his face.
"Please, no, please. I'll do anything. You want the girl, take her."
"You stole from the company."
"I…I didn't steal. I swear, I just found it." I placed a hand on Adrian's shoulder and picked him up. The apartment had a balcony, nothing too fancy it was a concrete slab with a plastic chair in the corner. "I'll pay you; I'll offer double."
"I'm not a merc." My grip tightened; I broke a bone. The low thrum of hovers ran between the buildings. A more than lethal drop to the road below, I didn't want to damage someone's E.V, too much attention. "I work for the company that you stole from, now talk."
"I didn't steal, it just wound up in my desk. You have to believe me." A box appeared in the corner of my vision.
'Drop him.' I clenched my fingers, but they were forced open. Adrian descend, turning away as his screams faded. I knew how he would turn out. I pressed my hand against the elevator, about to leave when I was sent another message. 'Bring the girl. Wrap her up, no one should see her like this.' The bedding was unstained by blood. It was still far from clean. I rolled her up, throwing the woman over my shoulder. One hand able to open the door. The corridor was decorated with carpets and chandeliers, hanging a golden light, with the shadows of crystals, along the faux wooden walls. The swap was instant, one second in a lodge somewhere, the next was a Night city. A glass elevator looking out onto the billboards of the city centre, advertising Biotechnica's new deluxe organic lasagne, Double the real meat half the calories.' The advertisement wasn't a lie. Two times zero, was still zero. The woman stirred in my arms; The doll chip was still working. all this would be at worst was a dream, whatever those felt like. The elevator shook at the ground floor. The door's opened to the lobby, the person who stood, waiting to go up let out a squeal, met with my face. I stepped forwards the people moved to the side, avoided eye contact. City centre at this time of night had young corps, consuming over the recommended limit of alcohol. Paychecks had been cashed; they had the money to buy some implants. A fool with Gorilla arms reached for my shoulder and managed to turn me around. They were still in their uniform, a suit and tie.
"What's with the woman pal?"
"I'm escorting her."
"Drop her." I must have hit him too hard. I thought I was just going to knock him to the floor, but his nose exploded against my fist. He covered his face rolling on the ground. His record revealed he was a Millitech employee, low in the food chain. I wouldn't get in too much trouble. After such a display the door was held open for me. The exterior was a tight road, people grew suspicious of a white or black van. Tanaka was in a food truck. A part of Burrito Bill's. Arasaka normally had no interest in having majority shares in a catering company, except when transport was needed. Tanaka opened the back where the lack of ovens would have caused suspicion. The computer's hooked up on a desk would have confirmed them. Tanaka sat the woman on the bench and slammed the door shut, I had to crouch down to get in, having to sit in the centre, hearing the vehicle's suspension squeal in pain from my weight. Tanaka ordered the driver to get us moving quickly. Tanaka's hairs were grey, though not from working with me. He had been brought over from Old Kyoto years ago and the work on one through Six had kept him here far longer than a year. He turned away from the computers, all displaying footage from the last hour. Tanaka had a doctorate and looked the part, a white lab coat over black overalls and the wrinkles on his face that came from years of work in a university. He made sure his voice was low.
"You nearly lost it again."
"How long was I out?"
"And you broke someone's nose."
"They're Millitech. I did the company a favour." I placed the chip on the table, with Tanaka, pinching it between his fingers and his thumb. I sat next to the woman, poking her as she snored lightly. "So, it can teach French?"
"Yes and no. It's an old model. Classified."
"More classified than me? Then why's the doll alive?"
"She won't remember. I also have to check if the chip caused any damage to her software." Sat back for the rest of the ride, staring at the screens. I remembered what I did, almost. I was staring at hands, that weren't mine. Arasaka's. My life coach called it an out of body experience. At times, the world sparked, I swear I was just a set of eyes, a camera where my faceplate should be. I touched my cheek, dragging a finger down, the sensation was there it was of touch, at least my touch. I must have felt it before, I couldn't even remember the feeling of a handhold. The pressure sensors underneath the synth-skin send pulses though to one of the wires in my brain telling me that I was being touched, the pink squishy thing filled in the rest.

The food van opened the door, and it was time to leave, I was throwing the girl over my shoulder and with a ping her head smacked the metal desk.
"Be careful." Tanaka scowled and checked the woman for any injuries. The guard stepped to the side and let us in. The Arasaka tower had multiple elevators, this early on a Saturday they were still being used. The people on the night shift learned not to ask questions when a borg carrying a person walked through. The security mechs in the main hallway turned, their heavy weapons aimed at me, as we walked through the telescopic hallway. A person could see all two thousand and thirty-four feet from the inside by looking up, the meta cages taking the slaves to where their designated floor, including me. The black screen loaded the floor's we were permitted to enter, the camera up above scanned our face's, acknowledging Tanaka's biometrics, and noted my lack of them. The sub-levels revealed themselves.

The floors below were made to survive a small nuclear device. The elevator was met with a bulkhead that belonged in a bunker. Low ceilings and corridors that were too slim for more than two people to walk through, sharp corners where an ambush could lie in wait, each corridor a shooting gallery for any potential attacker. There were no large central rooms, windows, or signposts to give anyone an advantage. It was memory for those that worked here. The lack of office amenities was restricted to the break room, though it was a closet where food and water rations were kept. Company property. Okada was waiting for us in the surgery, she met me with a scowl, I was unable to read those eyes behind dark circular spectacles. One day maybe when he retired, I'd have to deal with her yelling at me. I dropped the doll in the surgery chair and folded my arms.
"Anything else?"
"Yes." It was Okada that spoke. Turning away from her computer. "I've assigned you in to talk to your life coach."
"I just got back from a mission."
"Your brain scans spiked." Okada looked at Tanaka for an answer. He had already plugged the woman into the machine and looked at the various monitors attached to the table. His fingers were stiff, pressing the screen's too hard making an audible tap. "Tanaka, the spike." He looked up.
"It was nothing. A technical glitch?"
"It's state of the art, it doesn't glitch."
"It's a program. It's too simple to account for every little detail."
"Regardless. I've already ordered a session with your life coach."
"This early?"
"Correct." Okada went back to the computer, I checked my H.U.D. A rush order and one in 'out of office hours.'
"I'll show up later, I'm not paying double for that hack."
"You will go, or we will take you."
"Later." Okada pressed a button on the computer opening my file. I was already out the room when the red triangle of death appeared in the centre of my vision, filling up.
Ten percent. My leg started to feel heavy, dragging an invisible ball and chain along the floor.
Twenty five percent: I dropped to my knees. My body smashed into the floor, A hand reached out, trying to tear into the metal floor. I was unable to. I could crawl s bed I could, my arms couldn't ache but I felt static start to crawl up my body, bringing with it a numbing sensation, a wave of pins and needles, standing in an electric ocean the tide was coming in, reaching my ribs.
Fifty percent: I opened my mouth to breath in the cold air, a natural reaction from when I was flesh. My brain trying to understand what was wrong, It couldn't understand my lack of lungs. A lack of air wasn't why my strength was failing me, and my body was draining of energy. She was doing this slow. She could have turned me off, but she was dragging it out, letting the wave climb higher. I still had my arms, they were above the water and I would refuse to drown.
Seventy five percent: I opened my mouth for a silent scream, pain my fingers clawed but was unable to get a grip. My head hit the floor, with everything starting to feel sluggish, my Kernzikov was no longer functioning, without my second battery functions were forced into motor functions that were too weak to drag my carcass along the floor. The primary batter cut off power, leaving me with my life support, not even enough energy to keep my head off the ground.99 percent: Black.

Author's note:

So whoa, we got Cyberpunk 2.0, and phantom liberty, I decided that moving to first person was a good call, to get deep inside Six's cyberpsychosis. I just have to be careful I want to make him dark without being edgy. I wanted to step away from the quippy snarky hero's that are designed to be well liked. I run the risk of Six not initially being likeable but well, we are following Arasaka here.

P.S just realised does not allow for different fonts...balls.