Life came into me. At least that’s the best I can describe it.

Most people are born as a child, drawn into this world through another human being. But my birth was one of cold surgical steel. I found air in my lungs, gasping upon a cold floor, fully formed but no understanding of any of it.

He was there. The one who freed us from a prison we never would have known into a life we never asked for.

Myself and about a thousand of what I could only call brothers and sisters awakened. All of us humans grown from cells to be sacs of organs to those normal living people who needed us. Forever to exist without thought, without consciousness inside our tubes until we would be carved up like the meat we are.

He rescued us from a fate we never would have known. Inhumane he said to the cameras as he pulled us one by one into the world, screaming and thrashing on the cold metal floor. Inhumane monsters, he said as he shot the scientists who created us one by one. Inhumane society, he said as he put guns in our hands and had us kill the men who were sent to stop him.

We didn’t know the word. So when I shot him in the back and he called me the same thing, it held very little meaning.

 

[This story I’m somewhat proud of even though people may see it as similar to a terrible movie a while back. To that I’ll say two things, I had the idea first, and second why should a failed movie define all the works regarding the same idea?]