I was a cheetah in my previous life, what I am now, I do not know. The man I revere as my savior refers to me as an “augmented human” but I suspect he labels me this way because he likes the word augmented. I like it too, it's very shiny and rich. My previous existence I see as a highlight reel of strong emotion transposed onto hazy moments. Hurt, pain, love and sadness and that's all I feel when I try to remember.
When I first opened my eyes, I awoke to a despondent looking furnishing, the type that houses the dead rather than the living. A sickly yellow light came from atop of the window and settled on a corner near the bookshelf which accommodated a variety of scriptures, general notes and hardcovers, all unlabelled. On the left was a small rectangular shape carved into the wall to hold all sorts of richly coloured vials and bottles, for god knows what reason. In the middle was the main responsible for my existence, or newer form and he sat on a small stool enjoying a cigarette with the seriousness of an idler.
He got up as soon as saw me open my eyes, surveyed the rest of my body, splashed some water onto my face and unbuckled the restraints and pointed towards the door.
“What for?”
“Huh?
“I said what f-”
“Oh I was just surprised you could talk”
He certainly didn’t look surprised, bemused more like, I guess a slight alteration in the eyebrows but that's all I could see. He sat me down on his bed, dragged the stool underneath him and began to question me.
“I’m just surprised you can talk, that’s all. What’s the last thing you remember?”
“Nothing, just weird memories of things past, nothing in this body”
“This body?. Now this really is weird, I don’t know where to place you. Normally a soul transfer allows for the movement of only a few basic instincts, the rest is wiped out. Not only can you talk, your syntax is good and you are able to answer effectively, which can only mea--”
“Oh no I’m not lying it's ju-”
Unauthorized content usage: if you discover this narrative on Amazon, report the violation.
“See that response doesn’t inspire any confidence in me . You’re a newborn and you’ve been with me for only three days and I haven’t really exposed you to any outside stuff so I'm not quite sure how your contextual side is so good. How were you able to realize I was accusing you through my voice alone?. Tone and register recognition isn’t something babies can do. Have to forgive me for being a bit cautious here.
“Well you mentioned a soul transfer, that means my previous body is still here”
“Oh it sure is, wanna look?”
And then we made our way into a small treasure chest and I got a close look at his features. He was a good-looking young man, probably twenty, twenty-one with a light stubble and small thin lips. He had a strong chin and a broad jaw but the eyes looked uneven. Noticeable but only after a close examination. The lower eyelids were circled in black suggesting fatigue and a type of exhaustion that only manifests due to stress. Once he unlocked the chest, he wanted me to open it. I put my hand against the cold metal and opened it slowly and a horrible stench hit the nostrils. A swift motion and now the contents inside were on full display, skin that looked like paper, torn at random intervals with pieces of bones jutting out from the corners, the hair powdered with blood and other body fluids. I quickly closed the chest, the disgust beating out any curiosity left.
“This is what I had to deal with and I know in this situation, with the bruises you had, you were not conscious enough to take note of your surroundings, so really just come clean, I’m sure it's something plausible.”
I now shook my head for the second time and any justification was quickly shot down. I felt as if I had failed some sort of test. He motioned to the bed and I sat down again while he brought out a small jug with two empty glasses, placed it on the table and took his seat next to it. He explained as slowly as he could that I too had a right to question him and maybe he was the one responsible for my run-down (which is a mild way to put it) state. Of course this idea never entered my mind and now that it did I realized I had absolutely nothing to ask him and relied that to him. He took that quite well, suggesting that my surprising circumstances overshadowed the need for proper inquiry.
He began to explain the particulars of what had transpired in those three days. How he washed my body, cleaning the wounds and preparing the plaster (which is the body I inhabit) gumming its exterior and injecting enough chemicals into the organs to delay decomposition. The body I lived in was far more resilient than normal human but getting used to it was certainly a challenge. Common decorum dictates a human being on all fours to be bad form and If I was to participate in society I had to mend my manners first. The conversation soon went back to discussing the foundation of knowledge, of my knowledge and I would soon realize that something I took for granted would have dire consequences later on.