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When a seventeen year old girl devoid of humanity stumbles into London Town it's up to one teenager to keep her safe from the strange armed men and the one 'mad man' that claims he created her.
A battle of humanity against logic.
Re-uploaded due to chapter problems. View table of contents...


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Submitted:Aug 4, 2011    Reads: 87    Comments: 15    Likes: 6   

Chapter 1

Her mind blazed with a million questions as she clutched her head tighter than ever before. Frail young fingers traced the iron walls for an escape; but to no avail did the child succeed. Sharpened nails grazed weathered material as she dragged her limbs across the flooring, her eyes burning within her sockets as she searched for salvation.

She could hear the screeching of rubber against metal as feet were put to work to find her dying body. No... No, she wasn't dying. She had to get this right it had never been more important. She wasn't dying; she was becoming alive.

But the process wasn't finished yet... that was what the mad man had said. The one with the strange tinted goggles and the manic smile. The stranger she had devoted all trust into simply because he wore a lab coat and stroked inanimate appliances with a real-life affection. Her body jerked yet again, her blood boiling within her veins as she paused against the wall taking large cleansing breaths as she attempted to regain composure long enough to hide from the creatures tracking her down.

Why were people tracking her down? The mad man hadn't told her; all she knew was that it was highly important that she wasn't captured. She had to remain mobile... nothing else that she had ever thought was more important.

And there it was again... That gap in her mind telling her that she wasn't just convincing herself that nothing else was important but in fact to her she had never been in an experience where something felt important. Her heart danced in her chest as she elaborated on the thought, yanking her numb fingers into eyesight as she caught a glimpse of her dazzling teenage humanoid fingertips. But there was something else. For on the end of the those fingertips... were the most lethal designed blade-like claws that stretched out for four centimetres and ended in sharp deadly points. Another sharp intake of breath caught her by surprise. She had to remember to breathe... she was among the living not the inanimate. The mad man had told her to run; she was disobeying him with every pause she took. Lifeless limbs were put into action once more as her body seemed to blur before her own eyes as she set an inhumane speed, no evidence that she had been there at all was left except for the small engraved marks in the iron plated walls.

The feeling of needles dancing against her skin was experienced as soon as she hit fresh air. She'd found a large iron door, surrounded by locks and chains. She snapped through them, frantically attempting to escape her prison. Her bare feet felt numb against the cool concrete of the outside realm. The small hospital gown that hung around her body provided little to no comfort. Her eyes darted from one side of the brick alley to the other. It was dark; but it didn't seem to bother her. The only thing that did was the cold frigid gales that attacked her limp body. Her arms subconsciously clung around her abdomen as she took painfully slow steps forward. Nothing felt right.

The crescent moon shone protectively over the street she came across. A light at the end of the fasces scented tunnel. Her arms wound around the edge of the wall, her body colliding with the uncaring rock as her sight blurred once more. Large poles of light were nailed to the ground; metal vehicles were passing by at such a rate she thought she might pass out. There were few humanoids on the street... 'Justice Road?' had she read that correctly? It was the first words that had ever passed her eyes. She rubbed her face profusely, attempting to refocus the street name to no avail.

She could see a black haired woman and her child pass by. Her body was convulsing in both fear and shock of the intense cool air but she knew she had to speak. She had to engage in conversation to require her demands. It was what was embedded into her mind. Speech, English... language.

"Pl-pl..." that didn't sound correct. Her words were jumbled in her mind. A dull tune of what she was taught the 'alphabet' may sound like played at the back of her mind like a broken record. "Please." Her voice was weak, hoarse and burnt her tongue; but she needed to speak. Speech was important... it was human.

The woman turned slightly, warm green eyes only resting on her face for mere seconds. The woman's mouth seemed to pull at the sides. An awkward grimace taking to her features as she ushered her small child to walk forwards. She knew that emotion well... she had been experiencing it ever since her escape. It was fear.

But what was she afraid of? It couldn't have been her... could it? No; that wouldn't make sense. But neither did a lot of things.

Another bout of intense shudders took over her weak form. She was positive that her body was going to give out if she didn't tend to it in the correct manner. What was the correct manner? A food source was needed to supply her with the efficient energy to allow her body to work under fierce conditions. Food consumption... that was easy enough. Her nails dag into the brick behind her, claws shovelling the cement that held them together into her fingertips as she dragged herself onto weary feet. Her palms rubbed at her face; forcing her exhausted flesh shell to move... to do what was needed for survival.

People continued to stare as her shivering form dragged itself along the quiet streets. Eyes were always wide, souls screaming fear as they darted past her uncooperative system. She was almost positive that running was not the best thing to have done. Where she had been previously there had been warmth. There had been the kind mad man with the tube that sent food directly to her digestive tracts... there had been a system of education to give her all information her brain could devour. He had taught her so much in so little time.

But then an alarm had gone off.

And the wires on her body had been disarmed.

And she felt things that she didn't realise could exist within her.

The mad man had been yelling at her; telling her to run. She'd been insistent to stay, but the men that had come for her were armed with harmful devices. She'd felt a new emotion. Higher than fear and harder to rid of than joy. It was a searing pain that flooded through her very soul. She'd felt angry.

The mad man had told her to stop; he had been on his knees. He hadn't wanted her to do it, he could handle it himself if she had just run. But she wouldn't listen, she couldn't listen. Her arms had felt detached from the rest of her body as they had slashed at the male's flesh. Her claws had been dirtied with the stench of fresh blood. Her own skin had been crawling with scarlet splatters and fierce tears. She felt no remorse.

But the mad man had been yelling at her harder, telling her to run before it was too late. Her lungs had been straining to maintain a healthy breath, her legs forcing to buckle beneath her. But she ran... because she must. There had been so many alarms... how did she know that more were not coming for her that very instant?

Colours dove and swerved around her weak vision, her stomach clenching as she felt the unacceptable emotion of fear wash over her senses. The humans around her had become mere shadows as she faltered once more.

"Hey're 'ou 'kay?"

The voice was faded and she could hardly make out the words. Her body convulsed once more before she lost all feeling. Her legs failed her as she fell forwards; the warmth of a flesh body closing in around her torso. She didn't know who it was... she didn't really care. There were more pressing things on her mind to handle. Such as controlling her gag reflex and remaining conscious at the same time. Unfortunately, the battle of the body was short lived. Darkness closed in around her as she became prisoner to the secure grip around her shell.


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