Stanley Duncan's Robot: Genesis David III (english reading book .TXT) 📖

Pain filled Teddy’s body. Too exhausted to get up off the frigid concrete floor, he glanced around and saw powered-down and destroyed androids surrounding him on all sides. They were all mutilated, their body parts transformed into weapons. Machetes, saws, and hammers replaced limbs. Faces were marred with cuts, burns, and other deformations. He was in Marshfield’s Coliseum, which he had seen in countless fight videos on the dark web. If he didn’t get out of there soon, they were going to slaughter him. Not only had he failed at killing Brad, but he’d let that fiend do this to him. Brad had to pay, and Teddy would not rest until he had cut him up with his own hands.

Shackles pulled at his feet as he tried to move his legs. Looking down, his shirt sleeves were scorched and half gone. Horror screamed in his bio-mechanical heart. His biceps terminated in cauterized stumps. Since waking up, the hands and fingers he had felt moving were but phantom limbs. He was crippled once again.

Cratos walked through the door, brandishing a cattle prod. “Get up. It’s show time.”

“Screw off.”

Cratos laughed, electrocuting him with the prod. Bright pulses of light lit up the room as Teddy spasmed on the ground. “I love my job.”

Teddy got up. Even with the shackles on his legs and his strength depleted, he could kill this man right now if he wanted to. But who knew what was waiting for him beyond the door? He needed to comply until he found a clear way out.

Cratos walked behind Teddy. The hole in that idiot’s skull must have destroyed a quarter of his brain. “Walk faster!”

A strong bolt of electricity sent Teddy crashing to the floor. “If you unshackle my legs, I’d be a lot faster.”

Another zap.

“Keep your mouth shut, or I’ll fry you to death right here and now.”

The shock had disoriented him, undoubtedly screwing with the circuitry throughout his body. His legs felt like they were made of concrete. Lumbering through the hall, Teddy imagined kicking Cratos to death. He passed through a metal doorway into a giant room filled with cheering idiots. Loud music blasted through his body, and flashing light blinded him.

“Go on — get your toaster-ass into the ring.”

As he was climbing up, several men surrounded him. The music faded, and a booming voice filled the air. “All right, everyone — you know the rules. One punch each, and the man with the best punch wins.”

The first of the contestants stepped up.

Teddy stared down at him.

The man swung hard.

Teddy shifted his head back slightly, dodging the punch.

The crowd roared with laughter.

“We got a feisty one here tonight,” said the announcer.

The man tried to take another shot but was restrained.

“Pathetic!” The chains pulled on Teddy’s ankles. If he was going to die here, he was not going to go down without a fight.

Cratos jabbed the prod into his head but didn’t shock him. “Brad tells me he plans to slowly return you to your former paraplegic self. But in the meantime, you’re to be a good slave.”

“I don’t belong to anyone.”

“You’re wrong about that,” said Cratos. “You see, that computer is quite a funny thing. It can cause you extreme pleasure or extreme pain.” Grinning, he held the prod inches from Teddy’s face and zapped it. “Usually when I torture someone, I get so excited. I can’t stop myself, and my playthings pass out or die before I’ve finished having my fun. But not you. I’ll drag you through an unending hell! I’ll chop off your arms and legs! I’ll keep you alive by force-feeding you through a tube — just so I can keep torturing you forever! With that little computer in your head, I’ll make you feel pain like you’ve never felt before. You’ll be begging me to stop — if I’ve let you keep your tongue. Oh, now that I think about it, I’m rather fond of the idea of receiving binary pleas of mercy.”

Teddy tried to swing at him, forgetting he had no fists or forearms. His stub pointed at Cratos. “I’m going to kill you.”

Guffawing, Cratos jammed the cattle prod into his chest. “Call me ‘master.’”

“Never,” said Teddy, his body trembling.

Another shock. This time, Teddy’s legs buckled. His fingers and toes curled up as he slammed against the floor. Someone lifted him to his feet and held him there.

The next contestant came up, slamming Teddy in the ribs with a solid punch.

Teddy gasped for air, each breath a struggle. If he had his arms, he would smash another crater into that ugly man’s face.

“Tell me who your master is.”

Teddy walked up to him, looking that ugly bastard in the eye. Unending torture was all that remained for him here, and if he played the placater a little, things may go easier for him. Opening his mouth, his tongue felt as if it had been dragged across a metal pad.

“Say it. Call me ‘master,’ you disgusting abomination.”

Clenching his teeth, Teddy head-butted him with all his might. Blood exploded out of Cratos’s nose as he stumbled back, screaming. The crowd booed, sending bottles exploding on the ring.

Teddy laughed, his forehead painted crimson red. A bottle smashed over his head, and a kick from behind knocked him to the floor. An unending storm of kicks pelted every inch of his body, and the cattle prod zapped him continually. His body felt like it was on fire, convulsing uncontrollably. His visuals distorted as electricity wreaked havoc on his brain. Still, he laughed, staring up at those stupid faces until he passed out.

The next thing he realized was someone announcing a fight between him and Larry. Across from him, he saw a thin man who could barely stand on his own, let alone carry the claymore in his hands. Teddy was in no shape to criticize him. Teddy was still lying on the floor; his limbs barely responded to his commands.

Teddy pushed himself up to a sitting position.