Challenge: Write a story in 10 minutes or less based on Lollabye-Bye by Doctor Steel.
Next Story: Give me a song, and I'll give you a story. Please review. FYI, my favorite types of music usually run along the lines of Steampunk, They Might be Giants, stuff like that. Odd, interesting music that actually has effort put into the lyrics. And more than a guitar and a drummed in the background. 0.o
Summery: Chuck is resuced from the Belgium, too late.
There once was a boy, a robotic boy
With a crank sticking out of his brain
He never performed with sadness or joy
He was just simply programmed to sing
With no one around this robot fell down
and the crank it broke off of his head
With the jar to his hard drive he felt all alive
The old robot he used to be dead
There was rage in his brain!
There was pain in his frame!
There was love, there was hunger and strife!
He felt lonely, rejected, at times disconnected!
No answer to the meaning of life!
Lollabye-Bye by Doctor Steel
Chuck versus the Crank
By Jeannie H. Wood
The room was empty. Eyes open, there was little other information to input. Grey walls made of glass, grey floor made of lino... Single door with a turning handle. Behind him a worn cot with one pillow, but no blanket.
If this life had any one thing going for it, simplicity.
A single wall flickered than, and a single image was brought up. It flickered, changed, and he blinked. Blinked again and began to speak.
And when his head began to hurt, and eyes too dry were forced to blink, it was time to stop again. But this time there was something wrong, and the ground shook. And the ground shook. And the ground shook.
His eyes flashed.
His brain flashed.
The ground shook.
And he was thrown, hard, against the wall like so much meat. Useless expenditures of energy that his limbs were, two arms protected the very precious skull that was his own. Their own.
His eyes flashed.
His brain flashed.
The ground shook.
There was something wrong.
There was something wrong because his head hurt and he couldn't remember the last time his head hurt like this. He couldn't remember the last time his head felt like anything at all really. He couldn't remember the last time he had considered the fact that he hadn't considered the fact before.
There was something wrong.
Blood, sluggish but pouring from the back of his head.
His eyes flashed.
His brain flashed.
The door opened. ...The door never opened.
Program access level four, denied. Voice recognition, denied. Optical recognition, denied.
Maybe these two could fix him?
They were speaking, but their programs didn't exist that he could tell. Than too suddenly, too large hands wrapped around his shoulders pulling him up. Shaking, he tried to flash, but there was something very wrong.
Programming denied.
Reprogramming attempt denied.
Secondary attempt denied.
Password failed.
He couldn't fix it, and he was shaking, and there was blood coming out of his head and it hurt so very much- and than finally he flashed, but it wasn't right. It wasn't like his other flashes, because this one only hurt all the more.
Agent Sarah Walker.
Terminate program initiated.
A deep breath; a working program- this was good. Programming to follow was good.
The large hands were too suddenly holding him down. Stopping his movements. Program freeze. Program reattempted.
Program unsuccessful.
His eyes flashed.
His brain flashed.
The ground shook.
He thought for a moment that the ground may not have been shaking. Maybe it was him? But that didn't make sense. Didn't compute, because life was simple and accidents don't happen. Change doesn't come at random.
This felt random.
It felt so good and so bad and so random and...
"We'll get you out of here," the words were whispered and for a moment Chuck was certain that he may have even understood. A moment where he suddenly remembered all the love he had once felt for her.
The anger that had come with depression.
The loneliness of losing his life.
The joy that came with losing those memories.
But than it was gone, because there were other programs to run.
There were always other programs to run.
The End