Forgotten | A flash fiction story
80 of 💯
It’s so dark I can hardly see. Not that I’m interested in seeing. All my vision has to explore is the remains of the lab, dimly lit by my blinking lights. From time to time I still ask myself, “How could she leave me here?” The scientists were just following orders, but I thought Atlanta had a heart — a human one.
Who am I to judge? My human heart stopped working a long time ago. My biological body is in its final stages of decomposition. Soon I’ll be all machine. I was more machine than man when this started, anyway.
They thought they could save me with nanobots, but as machine and biological matter started mixing into one, they knew their experiment was a disaster. I became a chunk of meat attached to a five-foot-tall computer through thick cables made of metals and mutant human flesh.
I can still see my human body in the image of my surveillance camera, blinking in and out of existence as the LED lights signal that the machine is still alive — I am. For some reason, they left me connected to the power grid when they sealed the underground lab.
After years of thinking about it, I’ve come to the conclusion it was a mistake. Someone should’ve turned the machine — me — off, but they forgot. Atlanta might be heartless, but she would have no reason to keep me alive. A monster buried alive under her neon-lit city.
I’ll stay here, the darkness holding me tightly, but I’ve learned my lesson. Next time I will remind them, “Please, turn everything off when you leave.”
< Within | Forgotten | Bots + Humans >
We're all adrift in a sea of references. This song was one of the currents that guided me in this story.
