Chapter 1- The Mechanical Demon
You wake up in a blackened room, surrounded by walls of shattered mirrors. Lots of them. All of them scratched, cracked, and broken up.It appears to be a hall of mirrors, like one from a carnival, except it’s far darker and creepier. You stand up, and begin wandering aimlessly around, trying to find a way in the darkness which envelops you. Your only source of light is a small ray from the ceiling, which very dimly lights the room. The mirrors reflect fractured images of you, except its not you in the reflections. It’s him.The machine which stalks your nightmares, and haunts you in the day. You gasp in shock, and begin to panic and pant heavily like an injured dog. Your heartbeat rises. Your hands tremor. You stand, quivering in the darkness… sensing an evil presence…
Suddenly, you’re thrown through the broken mirror as glass rains like bullets. You feel a cold grasp around your neck, which sends a shock through your spine. Staring back at you is the demon. The mechanical monster which haunts you. It has eyes of glowing orange, but they’re not eyes. They’re just bags of blood. The face of the demon is a skull, scratched and marked with red, like tribal war paint. Its complex technology is contained in a bony body, with thin, skeleton-like arms and scalpel-like fingers, constructed from metal and machinery. The creature stands at around seven feet tall. You begin to gasp for air as the machine’s grip begins to tighten around your fragile neck. It stares at you, with glowing eyes like portals to hell. You manage to let out one sentence in your painful struggle.
“What the hell are you?” you ask it, between gulps for breath. It continues to stare at you, and then lets out a sinister laugh.
“Death” it simply replied, in a grating voice which sounded like knives on a blackboard.
With one brief movement of its hand, the demon snaps your neck. It drops your now lifeless corpse and wanders off into the shroud of darkness.
Chapter 2- The mission
In a flash, you abruptly sit up, feeling panic-stricken as you gasp for air. You’re surrounded by sweat-soaked bed sheets. Just another nightmare. Damn. You look at your alarm clock. 7:32, November 16th, 2708, it reads. As you look out of the window, a vast city skyline spans across it, covering most of the planet of Titan. Your home. Titan is a small planet, in a system called the Outlands, a place where crime is rife and law and order doesn’t exist. Criminal gangs and organizations rule the streets, feeding of off the less fortunate’s suffering and misfortune. Screams of the victims of murders and robberies fill the nights, creating a place which feels and sounds like hell. You shudder and sigh, as you contemplate the true savagery of the city.
As you walk to the bathroom, your legs begin to tremble again. Suddenly, they collapse out from underneath you, as it feels like your hamstrings have just been slashed with a knife. You stand up hastily, and reach the bathroom. It all looks normal, except the shattered mirror above the sink. Your mind flashes back to a week ago, when you saw the demon within the mirror once more. You broke the mirror with your bear hand in fear and anger. You shake your head and try to ignore the thoughts of the monster.
You begin to run your shaving knife across your face, your hands trembling, as if inflicted with arthritis. You put the blade down, zip up your red and black, Kevlar-weaved suit and leave. The computer flashes.
“New message” the computer says.
You squint and begin to read it. Another contract from the military Syndicate. Target dossier: Marcos Andrade. His image popped up on the screen. He was a well-presented man with a trimmed beard and styled black hair. The client’s message about the contract stated Andrade had stolen something worth ten generations to his family. The bounty flashed on screen. 10 million credits. Your eyes widened lustily at the sight of such riches. With this prize came a risk. A warning that Andrade was heavily guarded. You don’t care. The money’s certainly something but the thing you enjoy the most… is the killing.
You swipe on the screen to accept the contract. Grasping your P2020 pistol in your hand, you load it and set out to find Andrade.
Chapter 3- Andrade
You stand and stare at the foot of the sheer skyscraper. Its like the crown jewel of the city. An immaculate prism of glistening glass. It towers high above the slums, as if judging them silently. The contract was clear: kill Marcos Andrade and leave no survivors. Your heart begins to pound against your ribs in… excitement. It’s late at night, nobody will see you slip in and kill Andrade like the Angel of Death. Effortlessly, you begin climbing the skyscraper.
Marcos sat down with his wife, Alanza Andrade and his daughter, Loba. They both smiled at him innocently, as they had no idea how bad of a man he really was. He was a thief. A man who manipulated people to get what he wanted, no matter the costs. Such as the time his hired guns had robbed the Museum of Titan, and then burnt it to the ground. Or when he personally murdered a governor due to increased taxes on the rich. And yet his poor wife and child had no idea… He raised a glass of champagne in a toast to his family.
Meanwhile, you continue scaling the skyscraper, edging closer to your prey, like a serpent to a mouse…
“A toast, to minha familia, in securing the future of our legacy” he said in a serious yet calm and happy tone.
“May one more, for our daughter, on her 5th birthday” added Alanza, as they raised their glasses together.
You continue to edge closer to the top of the tower, your heart pounding and your body rushing full of adrenaline…
Marcos snapped his fingers. A guard walked forward, holding a small wooden box. A gift to Marcos’ beloved daughter.
“What’s in there?” Alanza asked Loba in a rather playful tone. Marcos opened the small box and presented his daughter with a beautiful silver wolf bust. Loba smiled and clutched the bust in her hand, then got up and hugged Marcos.
“Thank you, papa!” she told him in a grateful tone.
In a moment as quick as a heartbeat, you break through the top window of the skyscraper, glass bombarding the floor. Screams and panic erupt in the room, as people begin to run and protect their loved ones. A security guard attempts to confront you. You punch him across the room. Another one appears to the right. You plunge a blade into his chest mercilessly. You trudge towards Marcos, as he hides behind his guards. Coward, you think, feeling slightly amused.
You flip a table over with one hand, causing chaos and havoc. Grabbing the chef by the head, you drag him across a TV screen, glass scraping off as blood trails across it. Gunfire begins to echo all around the chaotic scene. You duck to avoid the bullets. As you stand up, you hit one of the gunmen away. A guard attacks you with a chair. You simply kick him over, breaking his ribcage.
During the heat of the moment, you feel your blood boiling. You become full of rage and anger. You continue the onslaught, even more mercilessly and ruthlessly than ever. Four guards attempt to stop you. Fools. You slam one’s head into a table. You break another one’s arm. You slice the next one’s throat, and kick the last one away. You throw another man who tries to attack. You feel unstoppable. You feel powerful. You feel… immortal.
In a split-second, one man hits you with a chair leg across the back of the head. You collapse. Another one punches you across the face. He pulls his pistol out. You roll out of the way, slicing his shins. He yells in pain and falls on the floor. Leaping onto him, you drive the blade through his neck. The other guards simply run and cower in fear.
Marcos grabs Loba and runs away with her, as she cries out, terrified. Alanza grabs a dead guard’s gun, and shoots you in the back. The bullet… ricochets off. You stand there, your anger in full control of your mind. You turn to see Alanza standing in sheer disbelief. She looks at the pistol clutched in her hand with a look of grave realization in her eyes. A realization that you’re too powerful to kill... You pull the trigger. She falls dead.
“Mama!” Loba cries out, as she is carried away in her father’s arms.
Marcos puts Loba down in the elevator.
“You must go” Marcos tells her, with tears in his eyes.
“No papa, please!” Loba screams in fear and sadness.
The elevator doors begin to shut. Marcos places a hand on the glass.
“I love you” Marcos tells Loba, in his final moments.
As the elevator begins to descend downwards, Loba cries out one last time.
“Papa!”
You trudge slowly towards Marcos. He begins to turn to hit you but you’re too swift. You grab his neck, thrusting him through the glass. He begins to gasp for air as he stares in fear. He asks you one thing.
“What the hell are you?” He lets out, struggling for air.
“Death” you reply, snapping his neck. You drop his lifeless corpse out of the skyscraper onto the pavement below. As you begin to wander away, you feel a sharp pain in your neck…
Chapter 4- The Truth
Feeling exhausted, you sluggishly wander through the slaughter you have just committed, your mind is flooded with questions. How did I climb the skyscraper so easily? How did I throw men across the room with one arm? How did I… take a bullet and not die? Your mind flashes forward, as you feel the sharp pain in your neck. You squint in the broken TV screen. A massive glass shard is embedded inside you. You wander to yourself again. Why am I not bleeding to death? Why can’t I taste blood? Why can I taste… copper?
Your next horrific thought is: where’s my tongue? Never mind the piece of elevator wedged in your neck, or the fact that you’re not bleeding out on the floor. Why don’t you have a tongue? And that’s when you see it. A blip at first, like static in the air. A strange glitch. And within the glitch… a face. A new face. No. Not new. Not new at all. It isn’t even a face. It’s a skull. Scratched and marked with red. It has glowing orange eyes. It’s… the creature. The one which stalks your nightmares and leaves you waking up surrounded by sweat-soaked bed sheets every other night. Except this is no nightmare. It’s a mirror. And the creature in the mirror isn’t your nightmare. It’s your reflection.
It’s… you.
This is the moment you break down. You realize what you truly are. You aren’t human. Not even close. You’re… the demon. The monster which hunts and haunts you every hour of every day. And the next thought you have sends a bolt of ice down your spine that will stay with you forever: Who gives a crap about not having a tongue, when you no longer even have a mouth…
So, everything you know is a lie. The coffee on your nightstand. Lie. The shaving blade on your sink. Lie. The bacon in your fridge. Lie. Is anything even real, you think? Yes, of course. Lots of things are real. Like that time you drowned because nobody heard you banging furiously on the ice. Or the time that bomb went off and you learned what it feels like when your eyes melt inside their sockets. Or the time you refused to beg for your life, even as you felt the knife pierce your chest and you heard the sound of your own skin tearing on its blade. Hit men don’t die peacefully in their sleep. That would be… too easy. Too humane. All of these deaths crash into you all at once, overwhelming your mind and body. You want to scream. Except you can’t. You haven’t got a tongue, remember? Let alone a mouth.
Someone must pay. Someone must suffer. That’s when you realize your first stop. That’s when you decide to hunt the military Syndicate down…
Chapter 5- The Syndicate
You’ve managed to track down Lowell, a high-ranking Syndicate member. As far as you’re aware, he’s residing in an abandoned Syndicate lair, working on a project with Hammond Robotics, the corporation which created you. Which brought you to life and force you to live out your days killing and dying. Over and over. That’s when you decide they must pay too. They’re the reason you can’t be given the gift of death…
As you contemplate destroying Hammond Robotics in a brutal and inconceivable fashion, a personal bodyguard of Lowell’s turns the corner into the ally way you reside in. He pulls out his gun. Too late. You just punch him and stab him five times in the chest. Time to move, you think to yourself.
You break through the rotting walls of the lair. Lowell and two Hammond Robotics scientists stand there, staring at you in fear. The scientists run. You let them live. They’re not worth your time.
Your attention turns to Lowell. His legs give way as he crawls into a corner to cower in fear.
“Please don’t kill me! I’ll give you anything! Money, information, anything!” He cries out as he begins to break down. You stab him in the leg, just to make him talk. He screams out in pain, like music to your ears. You crouch down and stare at him. He seems to recognize you. Soon, he will recognize you as his demise…
He begins sniveling about his kids. You’d roll your eyes, if you had eyes, because now you understand. They’re just bags of blood and tissue. Goopy blobs dressed in suits of skin. They’re nothing. You dip a finger into the open wound on Lowell’s leg, and run it along a tendon, like a bow on a violin string. He screams and pleads that he’ll tell you everything. You lean in, his tears sparkling from the glow of your eye sockets.
“It’s the cleanest way of killing”, he blubbers on. “Just enter the contract into the program. You receive the contract. Day later, it’s done. Completely untraceable. The perfect crime”.
You break his nose on the nearby wall. And Hammond Robotics? Lowell whimpers that they made the parts. That’s all.
You decide to teach Lowell a thing or tow about parts… starting by delivering him to his kids personally… before moving on to Hammond Robotics.
Chapter 6- Hammond Robotics
Lowell told you everything. Including the name of the lead technician of Hammond Robotics. Jacob Pierce works in a remote facility, and he works there every single day, tirelessly. Tirelessly keeping your programming in check, and constantly looking for ways to improve and polish it. Impossible, you think. You’re already the perfect killing machine. There’s no improvement to be made. Or maybe there is. Maybe if the programming wasn’t so crap, you’d still believe you were human…
You break Pierce’s spine on a table packed with computer equipment. He told you everything, just like Lowell. How you’re uploaded into a new body upon death. Memories wiped and all. Lather. Rinse. Repeat. Except hard drives can never really be erased. And everyone knows when you make a copy of a copy? Quality breaks down. Maybe that’s why your programming is so fragile…
Blood trickles from Pierce’s mouth. You’ve been there. Except you don’t have blood. What was it then that tasted like pennies when you took a punch on the Andrade job? You snicker to yourself. Of course. Your faceplate. It’s copper-plated. Hah. That’s funny.
You ask Pierce how long it’s been since you were first created and activated. He points to a bloody file nearby with a weak and limp arm. You scan it. Earliest project Revenant upload was in 2420. 288 years ago…
So, your inventors have been dead for over two centuries… a luxury you’re not allowed. Your blood boils with anger. You can’t exact revenge on your creators. This is hell, and you’re eternal. Your creators have damned you to a life of pain and murder. A life which can never end…
You wake Pierce up. You’re about to take 288 year’s of pent-up rage out on him. It’s no fun if he’s not conscious…
Chapter 7- No more lies
Now there are no more lies. And soon, no more Hammond Robotics. You target one Hammond facility after another, ruthlessly crushing anyone you see in your path. When you slit the last employee’s throat… now what?
Whatever your heart desires, you suppose… except you don’t have a heart, and all you desire is what you were programmed to do in the first place. Kill. Ain’t that a bitch. Question: who gets to die next? Answer: Anybody you want. This is the Outlands, a place where crime is rife. There’s no law here. No order. And you’re the boogeyman. Or, at least, you will be. Soon enough.
So, when somebody dies without a trace? That’s you. When a murder goes unsolved? That’s you. Your revenge isn’t aimed at one person. It’s aimed at every person. It’s aimed at any person. An endless supply of skin suits, and so much time to kill. Well, that’s incorrect. There’s infinite time for you to kill…
You wake up in a blackened room, surrounded by walls of shattered mirrors. Lots of them. All of them scratched, cracked, and broken up.It appears to be a hall of mirrors, like one from a carnival, except it’s far darker and creepier. You stand up, and begin wandering aimlessly around, trying to find a way in the darkness which envelops you. Your only source of light is a small ray from the ceiling, which very dimly lights the room. The mirrors reflect fractured images of you, except its not you in the reflections. It’s him.The machine which stalks your nightmares, and haunts you in the day. You gasp in shock, and begin to panic and pant heavily like an injured dog. Your heartbeat rises. Your hands tremor. You stand, quivering in the darkness… sensing an evil presence…
Suddenly, you’re thrown through the broken mirror as glass rains like bullets. You feel a cold grasp around your neck, which sends a shock through your spine. Staring back at you is the demon. The mechanical monster which haunts you. It has eyes of glowing orange, but they’re not eyes. They’re just bags of blood. The face of the demon is a skull, scratched and marked with red, like tribal war paint. Its complex technology is contained in a bony body, with thin, skeleton-like arms and scalpel-like fingers, constructed from metal and machinery. The creature stands at around seven feet tall. You begin to gasp for air as the machine’s grip begins to tighten around your fragile neck. It stares at you, with glowing eyes like portals to hell. You manage to let out one sentence in your painful struggle.
“What the hell are you?” you ask it, between gulps for breath. It continues to stare at you, and then lets out a sinister laugh.
“Death” it simply replied, in a grating voice which sounded like knives on a blackboard.
With one brief movement of its hand, the demon snaps your neck. It drops your now lifeless corpse and wanders off into the shroud of darkness.
Chapter 2- The mission
In a flash, you abruptly sit up, feeling panic-stricken as you gasp for air. You’re surrounded by sweat-soaked bed sheets. Just another nightmare. Damn. You look at your alarm clock. 7:32, November 16th, 2708, it reads. As you look out of the window, a vast city skyline spans across it, covering most of the planet of Titan. Your home. Titan is a small planet, in a system called the Outlands, a place where crime is rife and law and order doesn’t exist. Criminal gangs and organizations rule the streets, feeding of off the less fortunate’s suffering and misfortune. Screams of the victims of murders and robberies fill the nights, creating a place which feels and sounds like hell. You shudder and sigh, as you contemplate the true savagery of the city.
As you walk to the bathroom, your legs begin to tremble again. Suddenly, they collapse out from underneath you, as it feels like your hamstrings have just been slashed with a knife. You stand up hastily, and reach the bathroom. It all looks normal, except the shattered mirror above the sink. Your mind flashes back to a week ago, when you saw the demon within the mirror once more. You broke the mirror with your bear hand in fear and anger. You shake your head and try to ignore the thoughts of the monster.
You begin to run your shaving knife across your face, your hands trembling, as if inflicted with arthritis. You put the blade down, zip up your red and black, Kevlar-weaved suit and leave. The computer flashes.
“New message” the computer says.
You squint and begin to read it. Another contract from the military Syndicate. Target dossier: Marcos Andrade. His image popped up on the screen. He was a well-presented man with a trimmed beard and styled black hair. The client’s message about the contract stated Andrade had stolen something worth ten generations to his family. The bounty flashed on screen. 10 million credits. Your eyes widened lustily at the sight of such riches. With this prize came a risk. A warning that Andrade was heavily guarded. You don’t care. The money’s certainly something but the thing you enjoy the most… is the killing.
You swipe on the screen to accept the contract. Grasping your P2020 pistol in your hand, you load it and set out to find Andrade.
Chapter 3- Andrade
You stand and stare at the foot of the sheer skyscraper. Its like the crown jewel of the city. An immaculate prism of glistening glass. It towers high above the slums, as if judging them silently. The contract was clear: kill Marcos Andrade and leave no survivors. Your heart begins to pound against your ribs in… excitement. It’s late at night, nobody will see you slip in and kill Andrade like the Angel of Death. Effortlessly, you begin climbing the skyscraper.
Marcos sat down with his wife, Alanza Andrade and his daughter, Loba. They both smiled at him innocently, as they had no idea how bad of a man he really was. He was a thief. A man who manipulated people to get what he wanted, no matter the costs. Such as the time his hired guns had robbed the Museum of Titan, and then burnt it to the ground. Or when he personally murdered a governor due to increased taxes on the rich. And yet his poor wife and child had no idea… He raised a glass of champagne in a toast to his family.
Meanwhile, you continue scaling the skyscraper, edging closer to your prey, like a serpent to a mouse…
“A toast, to minha familia, in securing the future of our legacy” he said in a serious yet calm and happy tone.
“May one more, for our daughter, on her 5th birthday” added Alanza, as they raised their glasses together.
You continue to edge closer to the top of the tower, your heart pounding and your body rushing full of adrenaline…
Marcos snapped his fingers. A guard walked forward, holding a small wooden box. A gift to Marcos’ beloved daughter.
“What’s in there?” Alanza asked Loba in a rather playful tone. Marcos opened the small box and presented his daughter with a beautiful silver wolf bust. Loba smiled and clutched the bust in her hand, then got up and hugged Marcos.
“Thank you, papa!” she told him in a grateful tone.
In a moment as quick as a heartbeat, you break through the top window of the skyscraper, glass bombarding the floor. Screams and panic erupt in the room, as people begin to run and protect their loved ones. A security guard attempts to confront you. You punch him across the room. Another one appears to the right. You plunge a blade into his chest mercilessly. You trudge towards Marcos, as he hides behind his guards. Coward, you think, feeling slightly amused.
You flip a table over with one hand, causing chaos and havoc. Grabbing the chef by the head, you drag him across a TV screen, glass scraping off as blood trails across it. Gunfire begins to echo all around the chaotic scene. You duck to avoid the bullets. As you stand up, you hit one of the gunmen away. A guard attacks you with a chair. You simply kick him over, breaking his ribcage.
During the heat of the moment, you feel your blood boiling. You become full of rage and anger. You continue the onslaught, even more mercilessly and ruthlessly than ever. Four guards attempt to stop you. Fools. You slam one’s head into a table. You break another one’s arm. You slice the next one’s throat, and kick the last one away. You throw another man who tries to attack. You feel unstoppable. You feel powerful. You feel… immortal.
In a split-second, one man hits you with a chair leg across the back of the head. You collapse. Another one punches you across the face. He pulls his pistol out. You roll out of the way, slicing his shins. He yells in pain and falls on the floor. Leaping onto him, you drive the blade through his neck. The other guards simply run and cower in fear.
Marcos grabs Loba and runs away with her, as she cries out, terrified. Alanza grabs a dead guard’s gun, and shoots you in the back. The bullet… ricochets off. You stand there, your anger in full control of your mind. You turn to see Alanza standing in sheer disbelief. She looks at the pistol clutched in her hand with a look of grave realization in her eyes. A realization that you’re too powerful to kill... You pull the trigger. She falls dead.
“Mama!” Loba cries out, as she is carried away in her father’s arms.
Marcos puts Loba down in the elevator.
“You must go” Marcos tells her, with tears in his eyes.
“No papa, please!” Loba screams in fear and sadness.
The elevator doors begin to shut. Marcos places a hand on the glass.
“I love you” Marcos tells Loba, in his final moments.
As the elevator begins to descend downwards, Loba cries out one last time.
“Papa!”
You trudge slowly towards Marcos. He begins to turn to hit you but you’re too swift. You grab his neck, thrusting him through the glass. He begins to gasp for air as he stares in fear. He asks you one thing.
“What the hell are you?” He lets out, struggling for air.
“Death” you reply, snapping his neck. You drop his lifeless corpse out of the skyscraper onto the pavement below. As you begin to wander away, you feel a sharp pain in your neck…
Chapter 4- The Truth
Feeling exhausted, you sluggishly wander through the slaughter you have just committed, your mind is flooded with questions. How did I climb the skyscraper so easily? How did I throw men across the room with one arm? How did I… take a bullet and not die? Your mind flashes forward, as you feel the sharp pain in your neck. You squint in the broken TV screen. A massive glass shard is embedded inside you. You wander to yourself again. Why am I not bleeding to death? Why can’t I taste blood? Why can I taste… copper?
Your next horrific thought is: where’s my tongue? Never mind the piece of elevator wedged in your neck, or the fact that you’re not bleeding out on the floor. Why don’t you have a tongue? And that’s when you see it. A blip at first, like static in the air. A strange glitch. And within the glitch… a face. A new face. No. Not new. Not new at all. It isn’t even a face. It’s a skull. Scratched and marked with red. It has glowing orange eyes. It’s… the creature. The one which stalks your nightmares and leaves you waking up surrounded by sweat-soaked bed sheets every other night. Except this is no nightmare. It’s a mirror. And the creature in the mirror isn’t your nightmare. It’s your reflection.
It’s… you.
This is the moment you break down. You realize what you truly are. You aren’t human. Not even close. You’re… the demon. The monster which hunts and haunts you every hour of every day. And the next thought you have sends a bolt of ice down your spine that will stay with you forever: Who gives a crap about not having a tongue, when you no longer even have a mouth…
So, everything you know is a lie. The coffee on your nightstand. Lie. The shaving blade on your sink. Lie. The bacon in your fridge. Lie. Is anything even real, you think? Yes, of course. Lots of things are real. Like that time you drowned because nobody heard you banging furiously on the ice. Or the time that bomb went off and you learned what it feels like when your eyes melt inside their sockets. Or the time you refused to beg for your life, even as you felt the knife pierce your chest and you heard the sound of your own skin tearing on its blade. Hit men don’t die peacefully in their sleep. That would be… too easy. Too humane. All of these deaths crash into you all at once, overwhelming your mind and body. You want to scream. Except you can’t. You haven’t got a tongue, remember? Let alone a mouth.
Someone must pay. Someone must suffer. That’s when you realize your first stop. That’s when you decide to hunt the military Syndicate down…
Chapter 5- The Syndicate
You’ve managed to track down Lowell, a high-ranking Syndicate member. As far as you’re aware, he’s residing in an abandoned Syndicate lair, working on a project with Hammond Robotics, the corporation which created you. Which brought you to life and force you to live out your days killing and dying. Over and over. That’s when you decide they must pay too. They’re the reason you can’t be given the gift of death…
As you contemplate destroying Hammond Robotics in a brutal and inconceivable fashion, a personal bodyguard of Lowell’s turns the corner into the ally way you reside in. He pulls out his gun. Too late. You just punch him and stab him five times in the chest. Time to move, you think to yourself.
You break through the rotting walls of the lair. Lowell and two Hammond Robotics scientists stand there, staring at you in fear. The scientists run. You let them live. They’re not worth your time.
Your attention turns to Lowell. His legs give way as he crawls into a corner to cower in fear.
“Please don’t kill me! I’ll give you anything! Money, information, anything!” He cries out as he begins to break down. You stab him in the leg, just to make him talk. He screams out in pain, like music to your ears. You crouch down and stare at him. He seems to recognize you. Soon, he will recognize you as his demise…
He begins sniveling about his kids. You’d roll your eyes, if you had eyes, because now you understand. They’re just bags of blood and tissue. Goopy blobs dressed in suits of skin. They’re nothing. You dip a finger into the open wound on Lowell’s leg, and run it along a tendon, like a bow on a violin string. He screams and pleads that he’ll tell you everything. You lean in, his tears sparkling from the glow of your eye sockets.
“It’s the cleanest way of killing”, he blubbers on. “Just enter the contract into the program. You receive the contract. Day later, it’s done. Completely untraceable. The perfect crime”.
You break his nose on the nearby wall. And Hammond Robotics? Lowell whimpers that they made the parts. That’s all.
You decide to teach Lowell a thing or tow about parts… starting by delivering him to his kids personally… before moving on to Hammond Robotics.
Chapter 6- Hammond Robotics
Lowell told you everything. Including the name of the lead technician of Hammond Robotics. Jacob Pierce works in a remote facility, and he works there every single day, tirelessly. Tirelessly keeping your programming in check, and constantly looking for ways to improve and polish it. Impossible, you think. You’re already the perfect killing machine. There’s no improvement to be made. Or maybe there is. Maybe if the programming wasn’t so crap, you’d still believe you were human…
You break Pierce’s spine on a table packed with computer equipment. He told you everything, just like Lowell. How you’re uploaded into a new body upon death. Memories wiped and all. Lather. Rinse. Repeat. Except hard drives can never really be erased. And everyone knows when you make a copy of a copy? Quality breaks down. Maybe that’s why your programming is so fragile…
Blood trickles from Pierce’s mouth. You’ve been there. Except you don’t have blood. What was it then that tasted like pennies when you took a punch on the Andrade job? You snicker to yourself. Of course. Your faceplate. It’s copper-plated. Hah. That’s funny.
You ask Pierce how long it’s been since you were first created and activated. He points to a bloody file nearby with a weak and limp arm. You scan it. Earliest project Revenant upload was in 2420. 288 years ago…
So, your inventors have been dead for over two centuries… a luxury you’re not allowed. Your blood boils with anger. You can’t exact revenge on your creators. This is hell, and you’re eternal. Your creators have damned you to a life of pain and murder. A life which can never end…
You wake Pierce up. You’re about to take 288 year’s of pent-up rage out on him. It’s no fun if he’s not conscious…
Chapter 7- No more lies
Now there are no more lies. And soon, no more Hammond Robotics. You target one Hammond facility after another, ruthlessly crushing anyone you see in your path. When you slit the last employee’s throat… now what?
Whatever your heart desires, you suppose… except you don’t have a heart, and all you desire is what you were programmed to do in the first place. Kill. Ain’t that a bitch. Question: who gets to die next? Answer: Anybody you want. This is the Outlands, a place where crime is rife. There’s no law here. No order. And you’re the boogeyman. Or, at least, you will be. Soon enough.
So, when somebody dies without a trace? That’s you. When a murder goes unsolved? That’s you. Your revenge isn’t aimed at one person. It’s aimed at every person. It’s aimed at any person. An endless supply of skin suits, and so much time to kill. Well, that’s incorrect. There’s infinite time for you to kill…
Support Monty Blake
