Sophia
Victor's left foot taps uneasily on the cold floor. His eyes are grave, distant and his tie hung loosely around his neck.
"Another shot!" He yells, and flecks of spit water the tulip glass he holds. The bartender rushes to him, a beautiful blonde, only nineteen years old. Her name is Britney Anders.
Victor glances at my shoes and gazes longingly at my legs. His blood pressure rises momentarily and retraces when he notices I am looking at him. I wear a radiant smile, exposing my fine set of teeth."
"How can I help you? "I speak with a modulated voice. He grins cheerfully and lowers his gaze timidly. No. Not timid but shy, embarrassed. Embarrassed fits the situation better. I am not perfect. Nothing is.
"l am sorry to stare lady but you did catch my eye. "Victor executes his compliment in a hushed voice, as a smile forms from the corners of his mouth.
My cheeks burn a bright pink, "Well, thank you. "
I continue blushing. The kind of blushing that shows the soul, a sort of compliment to the eyes, and the delicate sweetness within. He searches for my eyes to see if l still notice his presence.
"I am Victor Billings and you are?"
I ignore him temporarily and stroke my hair, "I am Anna ".
That action prompts my brain to revisit an event that occurred three days ago. Mid-morning, Erick stroked my hair and said, "l love how your hair compliments your eyelashes". He forgets what l am sometimes.
Victor drains the golden liquid in his glass and mumbles" can l buy you a drink?" and as my lips part to respond, a sudden burst of sound is emitted from the small screen.
We both tilt our heads. Initials are visible at the top right corner of the channel. They read CNN. Chinese protests proceed in Hong Kong; Jazz Singer Rodney Jones dies at age sixty- five; another member of SCI(Sift cloud intelligence) found dead; Victor drops his glass.
His hand trembles and he fights the sobs that cover his eyes.
It's terrible, this world we live in "my elated voice penetrates the sudden silence. His skin goes pallid and his eyes shrink in.
He stares blankly at the broken glass and mutters
"Yeah, I know right"
As the only member of the SCI remaining, Victor knew his death was preordained.
"You look ill, sir," the bartender said sympathetically, some water perhaps, and she filled in another glass with the sprinkled water.
As the only member of the SCI remaining, Victor knew his death was preordained.
"I'm fine, he forces a smile and staggers to his feet. Anna stands up after him and follows him closely. As he approaches the door, a deafening sound fills the tavern, the shot blows my arm from its socket, and blue fluid gushes out from my vein. My bio components are still functional but my time is suicidally short. Victor dives to the cover of the wooden table, and the bartender's hand had transformed into an enormous weapon l smile back.
I must be going, have to work up fr work tomorrow
Anna burst into tears. He hesitates, gathering strength then staggers to his feet and approaches me.
" Today is your lucky day Anna, I can arrange a meeting with my lawyer so you-"
"You seem like a nice man but "I stand up, certain Anna's skirt is vividly above her knees" but I believe I can deal with my problems,". Fresh tears double my pallid face, treble it. l tread to the door and his fingers suddenly grasp my hand. His blood is rushing.
"Let me help you, Anna " no strings attached.
He hands me a card; his name and contact details are engraved on it. I reach out, my fingers tremble as I take it.
"I will contact you, Mr. Billings, that is if my endeavors fail me. Thank you for your need to help"
I speak calmly through my sobs and grin; my teeth are white as bone. His attention drifts from my smile. He noticed it. But he is very intelligent, his IQ lingers slightly above average. He is staring at the scar on my forehead.
"I have to go now, thanks again" my voice is flat and I push the door open. It is frigid outside, I amble towards Kenfig street, the breeze sways my hair against my face. It will rain. A car sneaks behind me
"Anna! why don't you hop in so I drop you off where you stay, it might rain soon" He shrieks, his window partially opened.
Victor parks eight meters in front of me. I pull the door handle open and sit beside him.
"I am grateful again; I stay four streets away."
He smirks in triumph and his finger caresses my leg. I smile shyly.
He drives horridly, his car waves drunkenly from side to side. He drives me to his home, a triple-story building, fairly decorated. I trail him to his door. He stares at the scanner, DNA recognition system. Fifteen seconds pass, ten seconds, the door slides open. He falls in, waits for me, and escorts me to his bedroom. He enters the bathroom while I examine his room. His family photos paint the wall and his achievements decorate it.
His wife stares at me.
She resembles me. Mesmerizing hazel eyes that glimmer in the sun's rays, wet silky hair that looks like it had been dipped in black oil. I resemble her.
Victor pops out of the bathroom like a magician's surprise, half-dressed. He starts unbuttoning my blouse. First, second, third, and leaps back in utter horror. Patches of synthetic tissue are missing from my body. He watches my internal machines process and draws in a dismayed gasp, flabbergasted. His heart thuds in his chest like the hard-measured strides of a soldier's boot and I recognize time was suicidally short. I reach for him and he scrambles backward using his heels and palms.
He fears me. They all are. My true form, terrifies them, except Erick. Erick loves me.
I am a valuable property.
He tries to run before he gets to his feet. He flees for the dining room and I pursue him menacingly. I withdraw a switch-blade from my upper thigh. He trips on his right leg and spills to the floor. He shoves back again his eyes locked on my blade. The back of his head hits the night table and he decrepitly drags himself up.
There is a lengthy pause.
He mops his face with his sleeve and tries to fight a sob. “Plea...please," he stutters in a voice he does not recognize; saliva hangs loosely at the bottom of his lip. l lurch forward, my switchblade plunging up and down like the needle of a sewing machine and Anna stabs him deeply below the rib cage. He stands still momentarily then his knees become completely unhinged and he topples over like a felled tree. He twitches like a landed trout and his shoes rattle an almost syncopated beat on the floor. His body stiffens and he rolls over.
The blade points toward the ceiling as if it has grown there.
I activate a call to Erick. It rings once
"Sophia, is it done?"
"Yes, estimated worth 200 000 thousand."
"WELL DONE Sophie! “His voice bursts out in ecstasy." I will patch up your wounds, any new scars?
"No"
"You have improved Sophia; I will be there in 30 minutes".
That will not happen "my voice is toneless.
"huh, what do you mean" his voice trembles with concern. He's frightened.
"The shortest route will land you in 42 minutes. You will not arrive anytime earlier."
He laughs nervously at my judgment and hangs up. Clean-up is minimum, almost trivial. No fingerprints and Erick will recreate the camera footage.
Two months float past, Erick fulfilled his promise, my body is refurbished. CNN reports the murder of Victor Billings.
No leading evidence.
My recent target is Andrew Cooper. He stares deeply at his tablet. A picture of a cadaverous wife 'Ruth Cooper.
She resembles me, her long blonde hair and deep blue eyes. I resemble her.
"Excuse me, Miss you look much like to someone I knew"
"I get that line frequently, "I respond wearing a radiant smile.
"I'm Andrew Cooper, and you are?"
"Britney Anders," l reply while stroking her long blond hair.
Victor's left foot taps uneasily on the cold floor. His eyes are grave, distant and his tie hung loosely around his neck.
"Another shot!" He yells, and flecks of spit water the tulip glass he holds. The bartender rushes to him, a beautiful blonde, only nineteen years old. Her name is Britney Anders.
Victor glances at my shoes and gazes longingly at my legs. His blood pressure rises momentarily and retraces when he notices I am looking at him. I wear a radiant smile, exposing my fine set of teeth."
"How can I help you? "I speak with a modulated voice. He grins cheerfully and lowers his gaze timidly. No. Not timid but shy, embarrassed. Embarrassed fits the situation better. I am not perfect. Nothing is.
"l am sorry to stare lady but you did catch my eye. "Victor executes his compliment in a hushed voice, as a smile forms from the corners of his mouth.
My cheeks burn a bright pink, "Well, thank you. "
I continue blushing. The kind of blushing that shows the soul, a sort of compliment to the eyes, and the delicate sweetness within. He searches for my eyes to see if l still notice his presence.
"I am Victor Billings and you are?"
I ignore him temporarily and stroke my hair, "I am Anna ".
That action prompts my brain to revisit an event that occurred three days ago. Mid-morning, Erick stroked my hair and said, "l love how your hair compliments your eyelashes". He forgets what l am sometimes.
Victor drains the golden liquid in his glass and mumbles" can l buy you a drink?" and as my lips part to respond, a sudden burst of sound is emitted from the small screen.
We both tilt our heads. Initials are visible at the top right corner of the channel. They read CNN. Chinese protests proceed in Hong Kong; Jazz Singer Rodney Jones dies at age sixty- five; another member of SCI(Sift cloud intelligence) found dead; Victor drops his glass.
His hand trembles and he fights the sobs that cover his eyes.
It's terrible, this world we live in "my elated voice penetrates the sudden silence. His skin goes pallid and his eyes shrink in.
He stares blankly at the broken glass and mutters
"Yeah, I know right"
As the only member of the SCI remaining, Victor knew his death was preordained.
"You look ill, sir," the bartender said sympathetically, some water perhaps, and she filled in another glass with the sprinkled water.
As the only member of the SCI remaining, Victor knew his death was preordained.
"I'm fine, he forces a smile and staggers to his feet. Anna stands up after him and follows him closely. As he approaches the door, a deafening sound fills the tavern, the shot blows my arm from its socket, and blue fluid gushes out from my vein. My bio components are still functional but my time is suicidally short. Victor dives to the cover of the wooden table, and the bartender's hand had transformed into an enormous weapon l smile back.
I must be going, have to work up fr work tomorrow
Anna burst into tears. He hesitates, gathering strength then staggers to his feet and approaches me.
" Today is your lucky day Anna, I can arrange a meeting with my lawyer so you-"
"You seem like a nice man but "I stand up, certain Anna's skirt is vividly above her knees" but I believe I can deal with my problems,". Fresh tears double my pallid face, treble it. l tread to the door and his fingers suddenly grasp my hand. His blood is rushing.
"Let me help you, Anna " no strings attached.
He hands me a card; his name and contact details are engraved on it. I reach out, my fingers tremble as I take it.
"I will contact you, Mr. Billings, that is if my endeavors fail me. Thank you for your need to help"
I speak calmly through my sobs and grin; my teeth are white as bone. His attention drifts from my smile. He noticed it. But he is very intelligent, his IQ lingers slightly above average. He is staring at the scar on my forehead.
"I have to go now, thanks again" my voice is flat and I push the door open. It is frigid outside, I amble towards Kenfig street, the breeze sways my hair against my face. It will rain. A car sneaks behind me
"Anna! why don't you hop in so I drop you off where you stay, it might rain soon" He shrieks, his window partially opened.
Victor parks eight meters in front of me. I pull the door handle open and sit beside him.
"I am grateful again; I stay four streets away."
He smirks in triumph and his finger caresses my leg. I smile shyly.
He drives horridly, his car waves drunkenly from side to side. He drives me to his home, a triple-story building, fairly decorated. I trail him to his door. He stares at the scanner, DNA recognition system. Fifteen seconds pass, ten seconds, the door slides open. He falls in, waits for me, and escorts me to his bedroom. He enters the bathroom while I examine his room. His family photos paint the wall and his achievements decorate it.
His wife stares at me.
She resembles me. Mesmerizing hazel eyes that glimmer in the sun's rays, wet silky hair that looks like it had been dipped in black oil. I resemble her.
Victor pops out of the bathroom like a magician's surprise, half-dressed. He starts unbuttoning my blouse. First, second, third, and leaps back in utter horror. Patches of synthetic tissue are missing from my body. He watches my internal machines process and draws in a dismayed gasp, flabbergasted. His heart thuds in his chest like the hard-measured strides of a soldier's boot and I recognize time was suicidally short. I reach for him and he scrambles backward using his heels and palms.
He fears me. They all are. My true form, terrifies them, except Erick. Erick loves me.
I am a valuable property.
He tries to run before he gets to his feet. He flees for the dining room and I pursue him menacingly. I withdraw a switch-blade from my upper thigh. He trips on his right leg and spills to the floor. He shoves back again his eyes locked on my blade. The back of his head hits the night table and he decrepitly drags himself up.
There is a lengthy pause.
He mops his face with his sleeve and tries to fight a sob. “Plea...please," he stutters in a voice he does not recognize; saliva hangs loosely at the bottom of his lip. l lurch forward, my switchblade plunging up and down like the needle of a sewing machine and Anna stabs him deeply below the rib cage. He stands still momentarily then his knees become completely unhinged and he topples over like a felled tree. He twitches like a landed trout and his shoes rattle an almost syncopated beat on the floor. His body stiffens and he rolls over.
The blade points toward the ceiling as if it has grown there.
I activate a call to Erick. It rings once
"Sophia, is it done?"
"Yes, estimated worth 200 000 thousand."
"WELL DONE Sophie! “His voice bursts out in ecstasy." I will patch up your wounds, any new scars?
"No"
"You have improved Sophia; I will be there in 30 minutes".
That will not happen "my voice is toneless.
"huh, what do you mean" his voice trembles with concern. He's frightened.
"The shortest route will land you in 42 minutes. You will not arrive anytime earlier."
He laughs nervously at my judgment and hangs up. Clean-up is minimum, almost trivial. No fingerprints and Erick will recreate the camera footage.
Two months float past, Erick fulfilled his promise, my body is refurbished. CNN reports the murder of Victor Billings.
No leading evidence.
My recent target is Andrew Cooper. He stares deeply at his tablet. A picture of a cadaverous wife 'Ruth Cooper.
She resembles me, her long blonde hair and deep blue eyes. I resemble her.
"Excuse me, Miss you look much like to someone I knew"
"I get that line frequently, "I respond wearing a radiant smile.
"I'm Andrew Cooper, and you are?"
"Britney Anders," l reply while stroking her long blond hair.
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