Birth Of Tool | Teen Ink

Birth Of Tool

July 30, 2013
By Hibisca BRONZE, Menlo Park, California
Hibisca BRONZE, Menlo Park, California
3 articles 0 photos 0 comments

Favorite Quote:
"Chance favors the mind that is prepared." Louis Pasteur


A new awakening is dawning on our clan, our perhaps I am alone. The sun peeks over the edge of the horizon to say hello to all, but goes away again by the light of the moon, leaving me stranded. Alone to rival against those too lost to care, too far away from the grasp of a lowly half-man like me.

Muscle ripples beneath my skin, as I let the true strength of my genetically modified body take control. A howl rips lose, inner dog coming forward while killing tears through my veins. I will never be in total control, that part human of me that cowers in the corner, always afraid. Apprehensive of the pitbull, tiger, elephant, and leopard that I am made of, that little human part. I am just a hammer in their belt, most appropriately named. My name is Tool.
All I am is a playtoy of those muscle bonders, stitched together tendon by muscle, bone by ligament. Everyday I flash back to the foreboding moment. . .

The lights are dimmed, asking for a darkness to loom upon them. A dark shadow that would never go away. Surgeons lean over and ask if I am alive. If I, their servant, will see the light of day. My eyes blink open, staring at the new world that would always be mine. Forever. Machines beeped with an intensity that made me twitch, wanting to make it stop. Then, my madness began.

My rippling legs jump up unconsciously, too much movement for a baby of any species, even a genetically altered one. A newborn that stood seven feet tall and had muscles the size of basketballs. Claws ripped through the metal like it was feathers, which is my eyes it was. Fangs pierce skin, and then heart. A killing machine that no one would have guessed of. The doctor crumbles beneath the stronger than steel grasp of my teeth. They gasp, soft as little ringing bells straining to reach my ears. Too soft. Too soft.

I flashed back to reality, shaking away the dark day of my birth. I was knowledgeable than, not knowing of the horrors of obedience I had stepped into. Expected to follow a leader, a master that whipped and said that I was to do whatever he said. Never. Never going to happen.


The author's comments:
This is a Fan Fiction of the book "Ship Breaker" by Paolo Bacigalupi.

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