Prompt#26: The Cyborg

Word Count: 749 of 750 MAX
DAY 26 Prompt: The Cyborg

         Charlie was considered obsolete long before Maxwell turned it into reality. The match was the usual regulation set-up, eight rounds at four minutes apiece with one minute between each round. Half way through round two, Maxwell drove the heel of his left foot into Charlie’s right knee shattering the composite casing and demolishing the servo.

         Seven seconds into the third round Maxwell landed a punch to Charlie’s left shoulder that crushed his collarbone and knocked out power to the entire arm. Before the referee could step in and call the fight, Maxwell was able to land a ferocious uppercut to Charlie’s solar plexus that was equivalent to a car hitting a light pole at forty miles per hour. His electrical systems went haywire forcing an emergency shut down to all non vital functions. Charlie collapsed like a puppet whose strings had been cut.

         Charlie’s trainer, Mike was by his side in a matter of seconds. A thick mixture of blood and lubricant oils dripped from both of Charlie’s ears. His left eye was clouded with a thin crack running horizontal across it. His right hand opened and closed on its own, the servos grinding from the motion.

         “Jesus Christ. I warned you, Charlie. I begged you not to fight.” Mike moved aside as the medic and mechanic arrived but they were too late. Charlie lost the match the moment he signed the contract. Maxwell was simply a better made cyborg with all the latest upgrades and corporate sponsorship. Charlie had too much pride to back down from the challenge. He was too human to realize the foolishness of it.

         They didn’t bother pulling his memory card before dumping him. The mechanic had verified it was beyond repair and that it wasn’t worth the cost to have it removed. Charlie was processed at the arena and once all the paperwork had been filled out, they received the authorization to dispose of his body. He went out with the trash. He had no family, no real friends to worry about. There was no one to mourn his passing.

         It was still dark, the sun several hours from rising. Harley moved through the mountains of garbage, looking for something, anything that could possibly help advance any one of his multiple projects. He almost missed Charlie if the rat hadn’t caught his eye. He saw movement fro the corner of his eye and turned to see the largest rat ever tugging at some type of gummy mess. Harley pulled his slingshot from his back pocket while digging out a ballbearing from one in the front. He casually took aim and sent the ball hurdling at his target. It caught the rat in the neck, the force snapping it instantly. Breakfast was served.

         That’s when he saw the body. He tucked the rat in a bag and crouched down to examine his find. The head and torso were definitely flesh; at least mostly. Someone had removed the arms and legs, probably whoever had killed the guy. Even old parts could be salvaged and reused to some degree.

         Harley flipped the body over and examined the back. He located the small port at the base of the skull and plugged his scanner into it. They’d left the memory card in!

         It took well over an hour to haul the body back to his car and another to get through traffic and home. He tossed the rat onto the kitchen table before lugging the body downstairs to his workshop. Though awkward, Harley manage to get the body up onto the stainless steel work table, thankful that most of it was missing. He turned on his machinery, plugging a thin cable once again to the port. It only took four minutes of hacking to connect to the memory card. Now it was up to his program to do its thing. He headed upstairs, all that labor making him ravenous.

         That night Charlie awoke and found himself in unfamiliar surroundings. He tried to speak but his throat was dry and sore. He heard footsteps and suddenly a filthy young man was leaning over him, shining a small light into his eyes.

         “Hey there, Charlie. My name is Harley. I’ve started a fluid drip, so you should be feeling better real soon. Rest now and we’ll talk in the morning. I think you and I have a lot to discuss.”

         As Charlie fell asleep, he smiled. Maxwell might have broken the metal, but never the spirit. His mistake.