Reconnect
.
.
.
- beep -
No!
- beep -
You’re wrong!
thump - thump - thump
That’s not true!
-beep-
A gasp
…
Then a crash
…
Then a scream
…
And then nothing
…
A…7.i…..E….L…a..S..a..5..l….N!!!
…???
…What….what did he…say?
This could have been avoided.
It’s too late now.
.
.
.
The Slumbering Heart
—Prologue—
- beep -
- beep -
(Awaken)
- beep -
- beep -
(And connect your heart with mine)
- beep -
(Awaken before the world falls)
- beep -
(Into a deep slumber)
thump - thump - thump
Initializing Sequence
-Activated-
Processing Memory
-Green-
Processing Data
-Positive-
Processing Vital Signs
-Stable-
Project D337S Replica no. 5173
-Ready-
thump - thump - thump
A sound emits from its body but no one can hear it
Except…
Slowly
Slowly
Numb fingers start to coil on top of a cold iron surface. Something lays resting on this sheet-less cold metal table— its bed.
A… a… a… a…
Attempts of language can be heard— an audible sign
—of life
“Sir! Subject 5173 is awake!” All eyes are focused on the metal table at the center of the large room.
(Welcome)
“All statuses are green!” The sound of grunts yammering at each other, of keyboards tapping, of hearts beating; the sounds of a crowded room is ever so restless within this laboratory.
“Breathing is… normal!”
(Back to life)
Automatic doors open to reveal a man wearing a business suit amongst this crowd of white coats.
-step-
(Back to the world)
He has graying hair, a permanent scowl, and no furrows on his eyebrows. An unreadable person.
-step-
The room goes silent. The tapping, the yammering, and the typing come to a complete halt.
Everyone stops and stares at this man who carries an air of confidence.
No words are required; nothing needs to be said.
(Be quiet and do your job)
(Be quiet and obey)
He is 45 years old. No father or wife to speak of. No one here can call this man a friend. He is the director of this questionable lab— their boss.
-step-
-step-
Patiently he walks next to the sleeping subject and looks at the monitor next to it.
All green.
All positive.
Suddenly a slight arch appears on his eyebrows: a sign of hopeful expectation. He bends down to meet at eye level with the subject. “Subject 5173… can you hear me…” A low mumble.
Then a slight opening of its eyes— an unclear sight. The reality around it is hazy. The subject attempts to move and look at the monitor next to it.
Slowly….
Slowly….
Slowly….
The subject is limited in its movement from the webs dangling from its body. Its body… no one can tell that it has a body from the metal cocoon and wires surrounding it except for its head and fingers jutting outside its shell. Its head clearly shows hair coming from its scalp. A metal choker on its neck.
Everyone just stares at the cocoon and at the director.
Staring.
Observing.
“Subject 5173.” He repeats. A voice with a deep raspy tone. The voice of a forceful yet tired man.
5173…
5173…
The subject stares onto the monitor-
5…1…E…L..I….S…
(Elis… is that… what it…said?)
-then everything fades to black.
.
.
.
Energy Level Diagnostics
-Green-
- beep -
Vital Signs Diagnostics
-Stable-
- beep -
Breathing Pattern Evaluation
-Normal-
The subject slumbers on a white bed with plain almost unwrinkled sheets, a departure from the metal table it once slept in. “We won’t be able to fully monitor her in this room.” A man wearing a lab coat with a five o’clock shadow and black-rimmed glasses advises the stolid director next to him.
“Perhaps, but a change in the environment might be what it needs,” The director or better known as Doctor Sibley gives a serious stare. “This is our last chance.”
Mm… mm… m
Eyes widen and turn towards the bed. Unknown to them is another pair of eyes that’s peering into this scene.
A feminine figure on the bed mumbles and lightly moves its lips. The sheets now stained by wrinkles as a hand— no longer covered in metal— caresses them.
“Doctor… Sibley…” The man in a lab coat whispers to the director who now carries an alarming look behind his serious stare.
Bewildered at the sight of the moving figure in front of them, they could do nothing but slowly move towards her.
(This is a gamble)
-step-
-step-
-stare-
(Sacrifices have been made)
Mmmm..mm.f.
(They could not fail)
-blink-
-step-
(Not another failure)
-blink-
(This was the last)
The duo finally reaches the subject’s side.
Slowly
Carefully
Thoughtfully
(Observe)
“H..mmm..ff” Her eyes fully open.
“Fa..th…er”
(… But they aren’t the only ones)
…
The two men quickly look at each other after that one word.
“Which of us is your father?” The director asks.
An index finger points…
…towards the director who continues to be relentless in his expressionless behavior, but nods in approval.
-Tick-
(Do you remember when you last felt like a father?)
-Tock-
He closes his eyes and gives a second nod.
(When she was alive.)
-Tick-
-Tock-
-Tick-
-Tock-
Only the faint ticking of a wall clock can be heard.
-Tick-
Then it dawns on them. “Y..you remember…?” The man in the lab coat mutters under his breath while his hand slightly covered his lips.
Everyone looks at the confused girl.
(Everyone looked)
“… Am… I?”
(And what of the malicious pair of eyes that’s been peering into the room?”)
“Uh..mmph oww”
(No one notices.)
She grasps her head as flashes of images from her memories re-emerges inside her mind. Everything is unclear and nothing makes sense.
“I… I am 5… 1… 7… no wait! I… I am."
Pant.Pant.Pant
She gasps for air from the sudden emergence of her memories: flashes of a boy with a serious face, a motherly like figure walking away, men with flashlights blinding her, and a man who looks like—
“Yes! That is correct! You are number 5173! So you know exactly who you and what you are then?” Ecstatic. The man, whose yet to beckon a smile, shows no restraint in his excitement. He grasps her soft and pale hands with a look of absolute certainty.
She huffs in pain and glares at the pair of hands holding her down. Pain overtakes her and she is unable to look up at the man properly.
Pant. Pant.Pant
Then…
And then…
…
…
Darkness.
-Tick-
She blanks out from the world around her and falls back onto the pillow with sweat beading down from her forehead.
Breathing heavily.
-Tock-
Still, the most audible sound that can be heard is the sound of the clock ticking.
(For them)
(For the person hiding within the shadows peering into the lonely room)
“Professor Klei,” The man wearing a lab coat looks at the director. “It seems that it at least remembers what it is. Soon enough it’ll remember its objective.”
Professor Roki Klei an engineering technician, although relatively silent during this whole ordeal, has been observing the subject. “Hmm… yes… but I am skeptical. As she is now, she won’t be able to—“
“Number 5173 just needs some rest, like an old gear that needs oil, subject 5173 needs the same treatment. Refreshing it should do the trick. Then we can begin our plans.”
“Yes of course. Letting her rest and refreshing her with the plan should do the trick.”
(Plans)
(Plans that shall bear no fruit)
Hiding in the shadows is a wicked smile and a malicious intent from a hooded figure that’s gone past the security systems.
Listening
Watching
Waiting
(Until…)
-step-
-step-
(They’re gone and out of sight from the room)
(From her room)
…
The figure steps into the room. Silently stepping towards the girl on the bed. A sly smirk on its face. From its jacket pocket, it takes out a metal object.
Blink.Blink.Blink
The girl on the bed blinks and wakes up and stares in a haze.
The figure stops in front of her bed.
“D..Daddy?”
…
But she’s wrong.
…
Bang
A bullet sound echoes in the room.
The shattering of metal and plastic.
The ticking of the clock can no longer be heard. The clock falls onto the floor and plastic pieces scatter across the floor.
As for subject 5173…
thump-thump-thump
A crackling sound of metal pieces resounds in her ears. The very middle section of the metal choker on its neck shatters. Static and noise are the only sound that reverberates in her ears.
Her eyes are wide open with a void look.
But still….
She could not see the figure’s face, only the shadow and smirk leaves an imprint on her mind.
The sound of a bullet
The sound of static
The sound of metal hitting the floor
The smirk on that figure’s face
And then….
And then…a goodbye to the memories…
And hello….
To the beginning of a new life…?
.
.
.
—Prologue End—
Comments (0)
See all