Laying silently face down with my hands cuffed behind my back utterly devastated, I'm still in pain. This isn't computer simulated pain. My ravaged ass is still slightly bleeding from being stretched beyond its limits leaking traces of James's cum. My left temple is still bleeding from the incision that exposed my tiny internal computer located just under the skin.
Inside my head images jump from suppressed areas of my brain that were once locked away from my human memories. Things I should recall, but for some unnatural reason I can't. I see images of a business man being abducted from a conference room. He is being escorted from the facility by several guys in suits without question restrained in leather straps. It looks like he is being taken away in some type of huge black SUV, I'm not sure. And, he is being given an unknown amount of needle injections of some type of solution, then hooked up to an IV with a solution to keep him sedated as the vehicle speeds away.
"What are they doing to him and why?" I question as the shocking images flash before my eyes in an instant.
The images are blurry at best. I can't see or make out any recognizable faces. My head aches bad; I black out from the pain. The blurry, almost hallucinogenic images become a twilight dream state as I lay unconscious and subdued face down on the bed.
In those hypnotic dreams stimulated from a computer generated program running in my head via microchip, I see horrific images. I see a man on an operating table being subjected to all kinds of torturous operations surrounded by dozens of people in white overcoats possibly doctors or scientists.
"What are they doing to him and why?" I ponder subconsciously.
I see blood being drawn and mixed with some type of solution before being placed in a huge incubation cylinder in an adjacent room marked for human cloning. I feel pain. Excruciating pain wakes me from my unconscious state.
"How long was I out and where am I?" I ponder as my senses begin to slowly process the fact I am still on James Coldburn's bed in his penthouse.
Anger sweeps through my body like wildfire. I sense my internal computer activate and begin running survival instincts not deleted from its hard drive. Adrenaline begins pumping through my veins. Struggling to free myself from the metal handcuffs, I roll around on the bed and sit up realizing my mission setback.
"Computer, shut down all directives and programs." I say in an effort to clear my head of blurry images shooting aimlessly through my mind, but there's no acceptable response.
"Unable to stop the directives and running programs, Kira." My computer repeats back to me as I twist and pull my arms apart breaking the handcuff chains.
"Fine. I'll do it myself." I say out loud echoing my voice around the room.
I regain my composure, reach up to my temple area, and remove the microchip from my internal computer drive shutting down whatever programs being run injecting my thoughts with blurry images.
"That's better. I can think on my own again without the blurred images flashing in my head." I sigh in relief walking over to the bathroom counter, picking up my black, leather, purse from the floor; sitting it on the marble countertop beside the sink.
Sifting through my purse, I find my backup program chip, install it, and watch in the mirror as the small incision on my left temple disappears completely. Placing the other micro chip in a plastic container, I secure it in my purse for further research later - not now.
Minutes later my internal computer is back online running its original programs and directives switching from interrogate to locate James Coldburn. Energy radiates from my body as the broken handcuffs fall from my translucent body hitting the floor.
Picking up my purse, I make my way to the penthouse door.
"Locked? Fucking figures." I say trying to turn the door knob.
A quick assumption and analysis tells me it's electronically locked. No problem, easily circumvented. Raising my left hand high above my head, I slam it down palm first on the top side of the door knob severing it completely away from the door facing. Then, I draw my right hand back and punch the door flinging it wide open revealing the hallway.
"Outfuckingstanding." I say letting out a sigh of relief just before another metal door quickly closes blocking my exit once again.
"Fuck! I should have expected that from James Coldburn. That's what I would have done if I wanted to buy myself some time to escape." I say punching the metal door pointlessly.
Walking over to his desk, I pick up a metal office chair from behind a desk and sling it at the huge glass window in James's penthouse overlooking downtown Atlanta shattering it to Hell and back.
