The Mask of Destruction

Insivian- One of the many countries reinvented in 2065 and run my robots. Considered perfect by the government. Loved my most...hated by some..
Selenia- A murderer, striving for redemption as the last of the humans. She's what one might call mentally derranged.
Kaaden- A Dawnbreaker, not human enough to feel pain or regret, not robot enough to be brainwashed. Hidden intentions lie beneath his stony exterior.
The Mask of Destruction awaits....

Chapter 3

Crushing the Corrupted

Darkness is no longer a metaphor.
Engulfed as I was in the perilous shadows of the suspicious alley that I had -without thinking- run into, I began to feel a twinge of fear and regret that I almost never felt anymore. An alley? You have got to be kidding me? What possessed me to run into the most dangerous place possible? Even indestructible robots didn't dare venture into a dark alley. Ah! But that was the reason I was her. I smiled a little bit knowing that I was safe from Vitality, at the moment. Not like I ever wasn't....
I recall that back in the olden days, people didn't go into alleys because they were afraid that kidnappers and murderers and gangs were down there. I was the murderer. There was no need for me to be in fear. The only reason why anyone was scared of alleys now was because of the toxic waste chucked into there. One of the early chancellors, from when Insivian was first created, had decided that landfills shouldn't be filled with all of our junk, because most trash that we threw in there wasn't biodegradable and polluted the environment. Most of the trash got thrown into these alleys that nobody wanted to be in because of that. On the occasion, when an early generation robot died or was destroyed (like the few guarding the Newbury Plant when it exploded), the government threw it back here and pretended that the robots were still invincible and that "nothing had happened". The robot junk was the only thing to be afraid of. Chemical reactions were not your friend.
Lost in my thoughts, I found myself ten times more frightened when two fierce hands gripped my exposed shoulders. I bit off a scream quickly, as I was tossed to the ground, not caring at all if I was bruised or maimed in any sensitive spots. There wasn't an escape. There never was an escape. In Insivian, the seldom enemies (There were few. Insivian was either really good or horribly bad.) never attacked you when there was an escape. This enemy seemed not to be ready to give me a chance to survive. Someone was thirsty for a kill, as if blood was their water and flesh was their food. I was human- they were not. I could tell by the lack of pulse. When you were in a silent chase, every little sound was audible, even pulses, and this pulse wasn't.
They were not human.
That meant that they had to be robot, and that was bad, if I didn't know that already. Their impulses told them to keep going, chase the traitor, even when they had metal stuck in their chests and robotic ligaments spewing from their sockets.
I couldn't move, the iron grip of the foot pressing me to the floor was to harsh. Number One Escape: Jab the attacker in the stomach with an elbow. That wouldn't work; my arm was twisted painfully. Second best: Step on their foot. No.... that wouldn't work, but I stopped struggling. This thinking had happened in less than a second. I had been in this situation too many times before for it to take much thought. I had a disappointing ability to get caught.
My options had been assessed and I was still on the floor.
I relaxed to throw the aggressor off guard. Good. They loosened. Mistake. I ran. A heavy discus connected with my inner knees and I cried out silently. The tenderness was a brilliant spot for a hit. I crumpled to the ground as my blood slowly spread across my tights. The foot was on my back again, but this time, someone leaned to the ground and tied my wrist up. I winced and immediately the rigid edges of the "rope" cut into my wrist. Ugh...I hated the tightening ropes. Try to escape and chances are, your hands get chopped off or you lose circulation in that part of your body. I was thrust into somewhat of a sitting position against the wall.
"What are you?" I spat out chunks of rubbish, coughing. There was some robot in there, but now, I couldn't be sure. Robots, in my experience, don't generally use, tightening ropes-too brutal. They preferred to squeeze your lights out with their own strength.
"What are you?"
"Robot," I lied, figuring that if they knew I was human, I would die faster. I was the only human left in this area after I had killed the only other one off. And I was wanted.
No, I just happened to run into a smart one.
"Lies. Robots wouldn't be in dark alleys." Then, why ask?
"So you're human?" This was odd.
"Not necessarily," I turned cracking my neck. Polished ebony boots, grey camo pants, that was all I could see in the light of two miniscule flickering green orbs, "Dawnbreaker. Not human enough to feel pain or regret, not robot enough to be brainwashed."
"Right," I said, trying to casually make conversation. Lovely, I had one of the half creations. This would be difficult, " Don't Dawnbreakers usually guard higher up places?"
"Generally," the indistinguishable voice sounded a tad bitter, "The newer ones do. Generation 002s-like me- are assigned to watch over stupid towns like this and to crush the corrupted-like you."
"Yeah," I tried to jerk free and felt a little bit of blood mingling with sweat at the base of my hands, "Listen, are you planning to keep me here for too much longer? I have a psychiatrist to kill." There was a metallic clink, and I was suddenly released.
A hand reached down as I massaged my wrists, feeling the grooves and slices made my the handcuffs, "Kaaden. Want some help with that?"

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