The machine stands in front of one of the monitors in the operating room. The monitor shows the symbol on the glowing barrier blocking the floor below. He sees one of the petals slowly dim. The machine uses its large grotesque metal arm to bring the monitor closer.
“IT SEEMS THE LOST SOUL IS A POSSIBLE VESSEL. I SHALL MAKE THE PROPER PREPARATIONS.” It screeches from its old robotic voice box.
The machine wheels out of the room, descending to the fourth floor.
The gray van is parked outside of the facility entrance around the early afternoon. Sercas is outside the van, loading his pistol and checking the condition of his baton. Serena is sitting on the passenger’s side of the van, again looking through the case files to find any information she has missed.
Sercas walks up to the passenger’s side of the van and knocks on the door. She lowers the window.
“Here, take this,” Sercas tells her, handing her a radio. “Make sure you keep that close to you.”
“Are you sure you don’t need any help Sercas?” she asks, taking the radio from him.
“Serena, you have no combat experience. It would be safer for you in here and relay any important information for me.”
Sercas walks away, taking out his metal baton from its holster. He swings it in the air, letting it expand.
“But when this is all over, we can have a one-on-one training session, just like old times!” Sercas shouts over.
Sercas approaches the facility’s entrance, tightening his grip on the baton.
“Be safe Sercas.” She mutters.
Flint regains consciousness. He rises from the casino floor within the facility, stretching once he is standing up. The radio crackles loudly.
“You freed him, mister.” The young voice murmurs from the radio.
Flint looks around and finds the figure of crying the boy standing in front of the two doors with his lock picks in the lock.
“I knew you could do it mister.” The young voice murmurs from the radio. “But, he isn’t the only one. You must free the others.”
“There’s more?” Flint asks.
“Free them mister…” the young voice tells him.
The figure of the child slowly disappears right in front of him. The radio crackles again. Flint reloads his revolver, picks up the radio, and makes his way toward the two doors. He continues picking the lock with the picks in there. It doesn’t take him long to pick the locks. He pushes the two doors open.
He enters a small security room, akin to the one he has entered before the casino area, with a dark hallway leading deeper into the facility. He passes through the room, noticing black sludge all over the floors and walls.
Flint walks through the sludge-covered halls with slow, solemn steps. The black sludge all over the hallways fills his mind with sickening and morbid visions of what he has seen. With what the child has told him, he knows that this hell is far from over.
“Deep breaths Flint, deep breaths,” Flint mutters to himself. “You’re not a damn coward. You made a promise to Argus. You will free him. Just take some deep breaths, all right?”
The morbid images keep invading his mind, no matter how many times he tries to reassure himself. His body cannot stop shivering. Flint rushes down the halls, desperately trying to find his old numbing friend, alcohol.
The morbid images flashing in his mind intensify in gruesome detail as he runs down the halls, finding the floors and walls being drenched in black sludge. The black sludge floors become slipperier and wetter, but it doesn’t stop Flint’s desperate chase for his alcohol.
Flint rams through one of the doors, and through sheer luck, finds himself in a kitchen area. He rummages through cabinets in the kitchen, trying to find his precious numbing nectar.
He finds a nearby fridge and opens it. He finds several bottles of beer inside. Flint uses the lip of a nearby table and pulls on the lip of the beer bottle. The bottle cap pops out onto the table.
Flint downs the beer without giving it a second thought. The amber liquid travels throughout Flint’s body. His body slowly relaxes from the alcohol numbing his senses, but he doesn’t find one bottle enough. He opens the other bottle and slowly drinks from it.
Flint puts the radio in front of him and slumps on the floor, resting his back on the table. He keeps drinking from the bottle of beer as the radio rests on his lap, crackling.
“Mister, what are you drinking?” a young voice asks through the radio.
Flint stops drinking his beer and looks around. He notices the figure of the crying boy from the door he has entered through. Flint doesn’t answer him and drinks the beer from the bottle.
He finishes the bottle and lets it roll out of his hands. He grabs another beer bottle and tries to open it with his hands, being too inebriated to think clearly to use the lip of the table again.
Flint opens the bottle, but the bottle cap slashes his hand. Flint ignores the newly formed scarlet bleeding scar and drinks his beer.
Flint turns his head again and notices the figure of the crying boy next to him.
“Mister, what are you drinking?” the young voice asks again.
“Sh…shut up! I’m…I’m drinking here…” Flint says with a slurred voice.
Flint keeps drinking, feeling fully numb at this point. No matter how many times those morbid images flash through his head, he won’t feel the pain one bit. He relishes in the numbness brought by the alcohol streaming through his veins. He finally gets to feel some peace in his life. He keeps drinking the numbing amber liquid.
“That bottle looks familiar.” The young voice comments through the radio. “I saw my mommy drink that a lot.”
“I…I bet she did…-hic- you damn brat…” Flint again says to him with a slurred voice. “You...you’re the damn brat…stupid, stupid brat…who made me stay here…and save these peoples. Why couldn’t you just leave me alone!”
Flint drinks from his beer, with the radio crackling filling the silence in the room.
“My mommy always acted like that after drinking from that bottle.” The young voice mutters through the radio.
Flint's eyes widen. He takes a look at the bottle and at himself. He stops drinking from the beer bottle. He places it down to the side.
“She always yelled and got angry at daddy. They always fought a lot.” The young voice keeps muttering. “I hated nighttime. I always heard them fighting and hurting each other when I sleep.”
Flint listens on, with a somber look forming on his face while he looks down on the ground. He knows the feeling all too well. His dearest daughter, Lily, has to hear him and Ronlo fight every night. Flint can’t image all the pain she must feel seeing her fathers fighting.
“Kid…I…I’m sorry. I’m not like this normally, I swear…” Flint mutters with a slurred voice. “It’s the drink making me act so…angry.”
“Mister, why do you drink it then?” the voice asks.
Flint finds his hands shivering when he hears him ask the question. He looks at the half-full bottle of beer and then at the kid. Flint exhales, smelling the strong alcoholic scent from his breath.
“Have you ever had a stuffed toy or something you use whenever you’re sad kid?” Flint asks him.
Flint sees the figure of the crying boy nodding his head.
“Beer…no…alcohol is like that for me,” Flint admits.
“But why do you drink it if it makes you act so angry, mister?” the young voice asks through the radio.
Flint takes another deep breath and exhales. Flint is struggling to hold back his tears.
“Everyone sees me as the righteous and stoic detective who solves all these cases and swiftly brings justice,” Flint mutters.
He awkwardly laughs to himself, unable to hold back his tears.
“At least, that’s what everyone sees. I…I’ve seen some horrible things during all my cases. So much blood…so many dead bodies. All those cases I’ve taken, they still haunt me to this day kid. I would never wish anyone, not even my enemies to bear this burden.” Flint mutters.
Flint wipes his tears and tries to compose himself.
“Grow a spine. Don’t be a damn coward. Hold those damn emotions. Solve the damn case. That’s what I’ve always been told. I never admitted to them how I felt. It’s always been like that since I first started, up until now. They don’t want some damn coward handling their case. Someone had to do the dirty work.”
Flint reaches for the hall full bottle of alcohol. His hands tremble when it is in his grip.
“I had to act strong, to show them I can take it. But it wasn’t only just that. I never want anyone to have the burden of being exposed to this…darkness. They do not have to be scarred just like me.”
Flint’s grip loosens, and he lets the bottle fall out of his hands.
“Alcohol makes all the pain go away. Nobody else is hurt. Nobody else is cursed with the dark images I have seen. I feel peace when I drink it.”
Flint looks at the crying child with his own tears streaming down his visage.
“I don’t know why you trust me to save them, kid…I’m just a coward, through and through. A dumb idiot detective who knows that he isn’t cut out for this work that has been and still needs to be done.” Flint mutters.
The radio crackles, filling the silence in the room. Flint keeps crying, taking occasional sips from the beer bottle. Flint’s eyes grow heavier and his motion becomes slower.
“Mister…” the young voice murmurs from the radio.
Flint’s eyes slowly close.
“I still trust you, mister.” The young voice murmurs, finishing his sentence.
Flint has passed out from his alcohol intake. His snores and the radio cackling fill the silent air in the kitchen.
The sounds of stomping feet grow louder and louder.
“Mister, wake up!” the young voice shouts from the radio.
Flint cannot hear him as the steps grow louder and louder as they approach the kitchen.
“Mister! WAKE UP!” the young voice again shouts from the radio.
Flint’s unconscious body is dragged away before the figure of the crying child can shout again to wake Flint up.
Sercas navigates through the rubble maze on the fourth level. He finds himself getting lost in the rubble maze. Every turn he makes, he ends up at a dead end. He grumbles in frustration while wandering around aimlessly, knowing Flint is on a lower level of this facility. However, Sercas is at least somewhat grateful for a moment to breathe after running through the halls of the floors of the upper levels trying to reach him.
“Damn, how did Flint find his way through this?” he asks out loud.
He looks around, trying to retrace his steps and mark where he has been.
“Mister, Wake up!” a young voice faintly echoes through the hall.
Sercas stops after being able to hear the faint voice. While he does not know what he has said, he senses the panic in the kid’s voice. His grip tightens on his deployed baton.
“The hell? There’s a kid down here as well?” he asks in disbelief.
Not wasting another moment, Sercas down the rubble maze. He whips his baton at any rubble blocking his way, destroying them and clearing the way. After destroying all the rubble in his path, he reaches the stairwell to the fifth level. He does not hesitate and runs down the steps.
He runs past the security room, which greets him into the fifth level, and into the two wide open doors. Sercas takes a moment to catch his breath and look around the casino floor.
“Kid, where are you? You alright?” He asks, his voice echoing through the hall.
“Mister! WAKE UP!” the young voice echoes again, this time louder.
Sercas hears the kid’s voice, clearer this time. He knows that he is somewhere on this level. Sercas runs from his resting state looking for the kid. He runs past the aisles of destroyed slot machines and bashes through the two doors at the end of the casino room. He navigates through the halls, running deeper into the facility.
He bashes through the doors of the other casino and runs past the aisles of destroyed slot machines to the open doors at the end of the hall. He runs past the security room and into the hallway.
Sercas stops running and transitions into walking down the halls, breathing heavily. He opens every door along the hallway, only to find dark rooms with household furniture covered in black sludge.
“What the hell is up with this place? One room I was in a casino and now it looks like I’m in someone’s home.” Sercas mutters. “This must be where all my damn tax dollars went…”
As he walks deeper into the halls, he notices one door open, one that he hasn’t opened himself. He looks into the room, finding a kitchen.
He notices bottles of beer lying on the floor near the fridge. He approaches the refrigerator and picks up one of the beer bottles. It is empty. Sercas now knows Flint is nearby. He lets the bottle drop to the floor and exits the kitchen.
Flint slowly awakes from his alcohol-induced slumber. He cannot make out anything in his surroundings due to his blurry vision and intense migraine. He slowly stands up and stumbles around due to the lack of stability in his legs.
Flint leans against a nearby wall, which he feels is akin to iron rods for a cage. His vision becomes less blurry after he rubs his head some more. His eyes widen when he finds himself locked in a large cage in a small dark room. He scrounges through his pockets and finds his possessions no longer on him.
“Finally awake.” The voice of a young man notes coming from the radio.
The singular light bulb in the room flashes on, disorientating Flint due to the sudden brightness. After regaining his vision again, he sees many tools hanging on the walls of the room.
Flint hears the door of the room burst wide open. What Flint comprehends to be a lanky male figure, oozing the same black sludge all over his body just like the Casino Man, bending down to enter the room, revealing screws bolted on his head. He slowly shambles inside the room, with the sounds of metal and squishy flesh echoing through the room. His eyes, one akin to a camera lens, while the other appears more organic, stare at Flint with intense concentration. Flint immediately notices the figure’s lower jaw entirely torn off, revealing a robotic endoskeleton hiding underneath the flesh. Flint gazes upon the figure’s arms as he latches on the iron bars of the cage. Pieces of metal cover up gaping wounds, while axles are built into these joints for any movement to be possible. He finds the same sight on his legs. Flint stares at the figure’s chest, finding a rigid humanoid robotic body protruding under the squishy black sludge-covered flesh. All of these parts create an unnatural and horrid abomination made of both organic and artificial parts.
The figure’s mouth slowly creaks open as his entire body experiences violent spasms. His screeches echo throughout the halls, with the noise containing the uncomfortable combination of metal and black sludge sloshing around.
“After all this time…I finally have parts to fix me…” the young man’s voice mutters from the radio.
The figure latches on the door of the cage. Flint backs away as the figure rips open the cage door. The figure slowly shambles into the cage, with his body still experiencing violent spasms. Flint becomes cornered as the figure closes the distance.
“With you, I shall finally be built again.” The young man’s voice mutters again through the radio.
The figure latches onto Flint’s body. Flint struggles to escape from the figure’s tight grasp. Flint screams in pain as the figure’s grip clamps him into place. The figure slowly shambles out of the cage. Flint tries to push away the figure’s arms, but they overpower Flint’s resistance. Flint groans as his arms are pinned against his body and struggles to breathe as the arms are clamped tight on Flint’s upper body.
The figure shambles out of the room, with Flint tightly in his grasp. Flint’s coat is stained with the black sludge from the figure, with some of it trying to enter his mouth. He shakes it off his head as the figure continues carrying Flint away. The figure’s squishy and grinding screeches echo down the hall. Flint desperately squirms in the figure’s grasp, flailing his body and legs at the figure’s shambling body.
The figure struggles to maintain balance as Flint’s flailing body and legs bombard his spasming body. Flint feels the figure’s grip loosening. Taking this opportunity, he pushes away the figure’s arms and escapes his grip. Flint quickly runs around the spasming figure and back into the room.
He grabs the revolver from off the table and runs back to the door. He aims it at the figure.
*BANG*
*BANG*
*BANG*
The streams the bright green flames surrounding the three bullets illuminate the halls as the bullets fly at the figure. The figure stumbles back as two of the bullets become lodged in the figure’s body. The third bullet becomes lodged in the figure’s camera lens eye. He screeches loudly in agony, fleeing from the scene and clutching his damaged camera lens eye.
Flint runs back into the room and locks the door. He leans against the bars of the cage, taking a moment of respite.
“You’re lucky that you recover quickly from your hangover Flint.” He mutters to himself. “But is it really luck when you’ve been drowning in that damned numbing liquid for so long?”
Flint shakes his body to calm his nerves. He approaches and grabs the ammunition box on the table. He reloads the revolver with the three bullets. He finds that he still has a decent supply of ammunition left, but he knows he must be careful with how he uses the rest. He does not attempt to wipe off the black sludge on his coat, knowing he would not be able to.
He puts the ammunition and lock-picking set in his coat pockets. He then takes off his hat and puts on the headlamp again, which compresses portions of his messy brown hair.
He looks around the table again to make sure he has all of his smaller items and he finds his camera lying on the table. He realizes that he hasn’t taken many photos of the facility. He sighs at the realization, but he knows nothing else can be done about it. He takes another look through the floor plans but finds nothing of value to him. He puts them away in his inner coat pocket.
He takes out his camera and takes pictures of the room. As he looks through the camera’s photo storage, his eyes widen with intrigue. He finds photos of Argus Madison and his corrupted version of himself, The Casino Man. He knows that he never has taken these photos.
He puts the camera away in his inner coat pockets and carries the radio on his back. He exits the room, noticing two pathways he can take. The first option is walking down the hall before him or taking a left turn. Knowing the figure is most likely down the hall in front of him, he takes a sharp left turn.
He finds the walls stained with the same black sludge, a grossly familiar sight he still cannot stomach. They have an aesthetic akin to a work shed with wooden shingles aligning the walls.
His light flashes on an open door on the side of the hall. He enters the dark room, with the light shining upon aisles of tall shelves within. Flint finds screws, gears, motors, motherboards, and other internal components sloppily put away in compartments on these shelves. Most of them are covered with black sludge or damaged beyond repair.
He exits the room, finding nothing else of interest in there. He hears a loud banging noise coming down the hallway. Flint takes out his revolver, aiming it down the hall as he approaches the noise. The noise intensifies as he gets closer, passing by a left turn he can make. He rests his finger on the trigger, expecting the worst.
At the end of the hall is a large metal door. The door wobbles back and forth in place. Something or someone is banging the door on the other side with considerable force.
Flint backs away from the large metal door with his revolver still pointed at the door. He takes the left turn he could have made earlier. He passes by many more open doors down this hallway, with their rooms containing parts and components of increasing size and value. He finds no interest in them, knowing that he would waste more time. He keeps walking down the hall, hoping to find something.
“Fix, fix. I must fix myself.” The young male voice murmurs from the radio.
Flint stops dead in his tracks as the radio crackles loudly.
“I hear that blasted radio…my batch of parts is nearby…” the young voice again mutters.
Flint hears the figure’s metallic and fleshy screeches from the other side of the wall to his left. He runs down the hall, hearing the figure loudly stomp towards him.
He enters a random room in the hallway and shuts the door behind him. He dives onto the floor, rotating the dials on the radio to lower its volume. He hears the figure storming down the halls, looking for him. Flint covers his mouth with his hand, hoping that the figure doesn’t even hear his breathing.
He hears the figure’s stomping steps pass by the door of the room. Flint breathes a quiet sigh of relief. Flint stands up from his spot to take a better look around the room, putting the radio on his back.
He finds himself in a quaint, cozy office room. There are many academic journals and math, coding, and robotic design books neatly placed on the shelves of the walls. Under the shelves is a large work desk with a pile of blueprints covered in black sludge.
With the few parts of the blueprints that aren’t covered, Flint deduces these contain design schematics for robots that are designed for some use in entertainment facilities and industry. He pushes aside the pile of blueprints, which fall on the floor. Behind them, he finds a photo frame.
Inside the frame is a photo of a young man with a tanned complexion and medium black hair. He has a smile on his visage, wearing black framed glasses and a checkered polo shirt. The photo of the young man has the left and right sides of the photo torn off, where his arms extend out.
Flint feels a special, familiar feeling from the photo, yet he cannot determine what that is. He grabs the photo in the frame and pockets it. The frame falls and reveals a piece of folded-up paper behind it. He reaches for it and unfolds it.
It is a blank one-page report with a photo of the same man in the top left corner. A piece of text catches his eye.
Subject Name: The Self-Building Man (TMG)
Notes: I did it again…I, I actually did it again! But, just two trials aren’t enough. This has to be repeated more times! Oh, but this gives me so much hope. My dear, sweet Alaya. I promise I will see you again soon.
From the flashback he has seen and now this report, he has stronger evidence in his mind of who the creator of these notes is and who the man may be. Flint looks through the pile of blueprints he pushed aside. He finds a missing poster of the man, whose photo isn’t blacked out.
Name: Toby Matthews
Age: 31
Status: Missing
Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.
Last Seen: ???
He brings out his camera from his inner pocket. As the camera’s light flashes onto the documents, his camera screen starts flickering as a new photo is being formed on the screen. It shows Toby lying on the ground. His body is half flesh, have machine. Toby has many tools lying around him as he tries to repair himself with translucent purple chains tugging onto him.
“I know that pile of parts is in here somewhere…” the young man’s voice murmurs from the radio.
Flint jolts up, hearing the radio crackle loudly. He hears something banging on the door loudly. Having no time to examine the photo, he puts the camera away in his inner pocket.
“It seems that pile of parts is snooping around in my office…” the young man’s voice murmurs and the banging becomes louder.
“No matter. I will get the parts I need!” the young voice shouts from the radio.
The Self-Building Man bashes the door wide open. He stands there, staring at Flint with his newly repaired camera lens eye.
“Don’t squirm. It will only make my repairs messier.” The young man’s voice mutters at him.
The Self-Building Man slowly approaches Flint reaching out to him with his lanky black sludge arms. Flint backs away, paralyzed in fear. He feels the cold metal and warm sticky flesh graze his face. He reaches for his revolver, but The Self-Building Man’s hands latch onto him with a firm and sticky grip.
Flint tries to pull away, but The Self-Building Man does not let go of his grip. The Self-Building Man stabs his fingers through Flint’s clothes and into his arms. Flint screams in agony, feeling The Self-Building Man’s fingers impale deeper into his flesh. He feels the black sludge from The Self-Building Man’s body slowly entering his veins, flowing through his body.
“Finally…I shall have new parts…” the young man’s voice murmurs.
Flint squirms as The Self-Building Man brings him closer. Flint’s arms start swelling and feel itchy as the black sludge flows through his veins.
“No…please…stop…” Flint weakly mutters.
Flint feels The Self-Building Man’s arms bringing him closer to him. Flint closes his eyes, accepting his fate. Then, Flint hears the cracking of a baton on metal and sticky flesh. His eyes open wide when he sees The Self-Building Man let go of him and screech loudly. Flint falls to the ground. He hears the baton cracking again as The Self-Building Man slams against the wall.
Flint’s eyes widen when he sees Sercas coming from behind The Self-Building Man.
“Flint, come on! We got to get the hell out of here!” Sercas exclaims, extending a hand out to him.
Flint takes his hand and stands up. They both run out of the room. Sercas grabs a random piece of metal and bars the door with it. The Self-Building Man bangs against the door trying to break free.
“That should buy us some time,” Sercas mutters.
He looks over to Flint, seeing him breathing heavily and bending down, using his hands to cover where The Self-Building Man has wounded him.
“Why are you here?” Flint mutters weakly.
“What do you mean why am I here? Isn’t it obvious after seeing that thing?” Sercas asks in disbelief.
“I…I already told you and Serena…not to get involved with this damn case!”
Sercas backs away after Flint’s sudden outburst. Sercas looks back at the door, hearing the banging get louder and the door becoming more dented.
“Look, Flint, we’ll talk about this later. For now, we need to go now!” Sercas exclaims.
Sercas grabs Flint by the hand and bolts down the hall, dragging Flint around in his sick and weakened state. The Self-Building Man breaks down the door and chases after Flint and Sercas.
Sercas, seeing The Self-Building Man closing distance, shoves Flint ahead. Flint weakly falls to the floor, feeling more ill as the black sludge flows through his veins.
The Self-Building Man lashes his arms at Sercas. Sercas reacts quickly and lifts his metal baton to block the strike. The Self-Building Man bombards Sercas with a flurry of blows, but he remains there, blocking the blows with his baton.
Flint coughs up black sludge from his mouth. He wipes it off, trying to hide his condition from Sercas. He looks at Sercas, defending him against The Self-Building Man’s assault like a valiant officer of justice.
Sercas finds an opening and swipes the baton at The Self-Building Man’s body. The Self-Building Man’s screeches echo throughout the hall as he stumbles back from the hit, trying to regain balance. Sercas looks at Flint, seeing him slowly stand up.
“Flint? Don’t force yourself for Pete’s sake!” Sercas exclaims.
As Sercas is distracted, The Self-Building Man violently lashes his arms at Sercas. Sercas is unable to block the hit and is sent flying back. Sercas crashes onto the ground, damaging his radio and upper body. Flint’s eyes widen seeing Sercas in a defeated state.
“Interesting…I shall have more parts to use…” the young man’s voice mutters from the radio.
The Self-Building Man shambles toward Flint and Sercas.
“No…” Flint mutters.
Images of Sercas drowning in the darkness from his nightmare bombard Flint’s mind. Flint cannot stop trembling and coughing out the black sludge as The Self-Building Man closes the distance.
“No…No…it’s…it’s all happening…just like my nightmare…” Flint mutters, unable to stop himself from trembling.
Flint looks back at Sercas lying down on the floor heavily injured and back at The Self-Building Man slowly approaching them. Flint slowly backs away still shivering.
“Just run away Flint, leave your friend to die. After all, you’re just a damn coward.” His inner voice echoes through his mind.
“No…No…I…I…”
“Remember your oath, detective. Do not succumb to your fears. Let your oath show you the way.” A voice whispers in her ear.
“I vow to pursue and reveal the truth to all. I mustn’t waver, no matter how bitter the consequences may be. No one should live in the darkness of falsehoods nor should those who harm others hide have their sins be hidden away.”
Flint, takes a deep breath, and calmly takes out his revolver. He points it at The Self-Building Man, with his hand shivering and struggling to focus aim.
“No…I…I won’t leave anyone here to die…I…” Flint mutters.
“You’ll save them mister…” the young voice mutters from the radio.
Flint sees the figure of the crying boy at the other end of the hall. Flint closes his eyes and presses the trigger.
*BANG*
*BANG*
*BANG*
The streams the bright green flames surrounding the three bullets illuminate the halls as the bullets fly at The Self-Building Man. Each of the bullets is lodged into The Self-Building Man’s robotic body, damaging it. The Self-Building Man screeches as he feels a loss of control in his limbs.
“No…I am broken…I must fix this! I must fix this!” the young man’s panicking voice comes from the radio.
The Self-Building Man runs down the halls to fix himself. Flint limps over to Sercas, lying down on the ground. He finds Sercas is coughing up blood and major bruises and cuts all over his body. As Flint tries to help him up, he finds the black sludge flowing through his veins in his hands. He also finds the black sludge and blood bleeding from his puncture wounds.
Flint turns around and carries him on his back after moving the radio to his front side, limping along the way. Despite his sick and weakened state, he still powers through, not wanting to appear weak or hurt around Sercas.
“Flint…I…I can walk just fine…” Sercas mutters.
Sercas groans in pain and coughs up some more blood.
“No…no you can’t…” Flint weakly mutters. “Let me find you somewhere safe…”
Flint limps back to the metal door he has heard the banging. He finds it wide open, assuming that Sercas has come through there. He limps through the door, trying to find somewhere safe for Sercas to place.
After the many twists and turns down the hall, Flint limps back into the kitchen where he has drank his sorrows away. He gently lies Sercas on the floor.
“Heh…who would’ve thought that I’d face my worst injury at a government facility? Even when I least expect it, the government is still trying to find a way to screw with me…” Sercas jests, despite being in pain.
Sercas looks up at Flint. He sees that Flint is trying to stand strong, despite his ill state. He also sees Flint’s visage turn from his usual serious demeanor to a somber and guilty one.
“Sercas…this is why I don’t want any of you to be here…” Flint mutters to him, trying to hold back his tears. “Look at yourself…you had to see such horrors…and worst of all…you’re hurt.”
“Flint…” Sercas mutters.
“I never wanted any of this to befall you and Serena, but you two were so insistent on helping me…and look where your help led you…This hasn’t been the first damn time too. Why must you two risk your sanity and lives for my sake? Can’t you see that I must be the only one to bear of all this!”
Tears stream down Flint’s eyes. Flint sees Sercas coughing up blood as his arm rests on his chest.
“Flint…I’m not going to die. I’m not some flimsy person. I can handle this.” Sercas mutters. He looks up at Flint. “I could have let you be, but I didn’t. I would be a vile person if I did, and I ain’t that. We’re not strangers Flint, you don’t need to hide anything from us. I know full well of the danger I’ve gotten into Flint. But if it meant saving you, even if it risked my own life, I would’ve done it in a heartbeat. I know you will do the same. I saw you do it. People need you Flint, no matter what you think.”
“Sercas…no…no I…I…”
Flint wipes his tears and turns away from Sercas. He tries to stop crying, but he cannot. Sercas forms a reflective smile on his face, still coughing up more blood.
“Flint, my good friend. If I die here…make sure you finish this damn case. I heard what that kid said. I know you’ll be able to save everyone who needs it.”
Flint wipes the tears off his face.
“I will, Sercas.”
Flint slowly walks out of the kitchen, despite his weakened state.
“But I won’t die here, Flint. It will take more than these damn injuries to kill me…And after all this is over, we’ll all have a good drink with everyone.” Sercas mutters.
Sercas finds a beer bottle lying beside him. He slowly opens it, due to his injuries.
“To Flint.” He toasts.
Sercas drinks the bottle of beer, still lying there.
Flint leans on the walls outside of the kitchen, breathing heavily as he continues to bleed black sludge and blood from his puncture wounds. Flint takes off his coat, letting it fall to the ground, and pulls his sleeves.
His arms and hands tremble as his once bluish veins are now shadowy black as the black sludge flows through them. Flint, still breathing heavily, rips half of his sleeves off and bandages his wounds with the scraps from his clothes. They become stained with the black sludge, but it stops the bleeding. The trembling in his hands and arms becomes less intense.
Flint slowly bends down and picks up his coat from the ground. As he puts the coat on, he finds the photo fragment of the young man slowly falling to the ground. He stares at the photo, knowing the man is suffering as that corrupted Self Building Man.
“Will you run away Flint?” He mutters to himself. “No…I can’t. Not after what Sercas has done for me. Not after what I’ve seen that man has become. I…I have to…I must free him.”
He again bends down and picks up the photo. Images of two rooms flash in his mind as the photo is in his hands. The first is a dark living room. The other is a room housing various kinds of robots. Flint lets go of the photo and looks around the hall due to the abrupt occurrence. The photo lies on the ground, lying backside up. Splotches of black sludge are on the back of the photo.
Flint picks up the photo again and puts it in his pocket. Knowing that those images must mean something, Flint wanders around the halls, trying to find the room.
He passes through the halls that are covered in black sludge. Flint feels a feeling of comfort and calms as if he were back in his own home. He looks around, noticing the walls of the halls are painted with lavender.
He passes by many doors down this hallway, peering into each of them. Behind each door are rooms one would find in their own home, such as bathrooms, bedrooms, and the pantry, all of which are covered in black sludge.
After tirelessly looking through the doors, he finds the very living room that has flashed in his mind. The living room is in pristine condition. A simple couch is in front of a television on a stand. Plants and other greenery in pots are scattered around the room.
Flint approaches the couch and takes a seat to rest his weary body. He feels the black sludge flowing through his veins, but he ignores the discomfort as he ponders the importance of the photo.
The television abruptly turns on, which makes Flint jolt back. There is text on the television.
“Find the true missing piece.”
There is an arrow underneath the text which points down to the stand. Flint gets off the couch and approaches the stand. He kneels to the ground and finds the fragment of a photo underneath the table. He takes it out and examines it.
The fragment of the photo contains a part of Toby Matthews’ left arm. It is resting on the shoulders of his oldest daughter who has a tanned complexion like her father and medium dyed blond hair, wearing a red short-sleeve checkered polo, and his young son, who has short black hair and fair complexion while wearing a t-shirt with a rocket on it.
His oldest daughter poses for the camera with a peace sign with rings on her fingers and bracelets on her arms while his son raises his arms, hooting and hollering.
Flint smiles at the sight of the photo. It reminds him of those times when his daughter was happy. He wishes he could bring back those days. Flint stands up putting away the photo in his pockets. He takes a photo of the room.
He exits the room, with his smile fading. The television powers off as he walks deeper into the halls.
He approaches the metal door which blocks off The Self-Building Man’s domain. He pulls out his revolver as he enters the area. He faintly hears the sounds of welding equipment and drills coming from deeper into the halls. He takes a deep breath and walks deeper into the hall.
Flint finds himself in the hallway where he and Sercas fought against the Self-Building Man. He hears the welding at its loudest in this area. He wastes no time investigating the open doors along the halls, knowing that they only contain parts and other components for robots.
He takes a left turn at the end of the hallway, finding open doors on the right-hand side. He passes by them, with his headlamp light shining upon the rooms with shelves that are stocked with many parts.
At the end of the hallway, he finds two wide push doors. He slowly approaches the area, daring not to make any loud noises for the Self-Building Man to hear.
He pushes the doors at the end of the hallway. He finds himself in a large room with various robots of varying shapes and sizes. Some are made with sturdier metals while others are made of more flexible and compressible rubbers and plastics. He takes a quick photo of all the robots.
However, his interest is in the large robot at the end of the room. He approaches it, passing by the many other robots there.
The robot at the end of the hallway has the figure of a scorpion made of soft, flexible rubber. There are many handles and climbable areas along it. Flint reads the plaque in front of it.
“Meet the Sam, the Robotic Scorpion. This robot is designed as a mobile playground for children. With its soft and flexible materials and safety features, rest assured your children will be safe having a grand old time.”
“I bet Lily would kill to play with something like this.” Flint jests to himself.
He notices the backside of the photo fragment on the ‘stinger’ of Sam. It has the text written: “Let him fix it.” Flint reaches out and pulls it out. He flips over the photo fragment, which shows Toby’s right arm resting on the shoulders of his wife. She smiles at the camera, despite her frail appearance. She has fair skin with her hands caressing her long black hair as she wears a simple white dress.
Flint’s eyes begin to water, seeing how happy Toby’s wife is in the photo. If only he and Ronlo could smile together again. He puts it into his pockets. The image of a workshop flashes in his head. It highlights a table where he must put all three photo fragments. Flint again looks around, disorientated by the sight. He hears the radio crackle loudly.
“Snooping around, are we?” the young man’s voice murmurs through the radio.
Flint turns around and sees the Self-Building Man bash through the doors, with now a newly repaired body.
“I will not let you escape. I will finally be repaired.” The young man’s voice murmurs.
The Self-Building Man slowly shambles toward Flint. Flint’s body begins to tremble again as he reaches for the revolver. He takes it out and aims it at The Self-Building Man, but his trembling body makes it impossible to aim. The discomfort of the black sludge flowing through his body overwhelms him.
“Damn it…” Flint mutters. “Not…now!”
Flint pulls the trigger.
*BANG*
A stream of a bright green flame surrounding the bullet flies at The Self-Building Man. The bullet strikes one of his knees. The Self-Building Man falls to the floor. Taking this chance, Flint runs out of the room, avoiding The Self-Building Man’s attempts at swiping at him with his arms.
Flint looks to his left and right. On his left is a hallway that leads to another stairway, while his right leads to another hallway. Flint instinctively for his survival, tries to go left. Yet, he cannot find it in himself to do so.
He takes a deep breath and reluctantly goes right as he hears The Self-Building Man slowly rise. He finds a large metal door open in the hall to his left. He runs inside the room.
Inside is a large workshop with many workbenches and two large tables. The two tables have tools sloppily placed around and early construction of robots and robotic limbs lie on top.
“I have you now.” The young voice murmurs from the radio.
Flint turns around and finds The Self-Building Man shut the metal door close behind him. He slams his lanky arm on the light switch, engulfing the room in darkness.
The Self-Building Man swipes his arms at Flint. Flint dodges out of the way and backs away. He struggles to find the table he must place the photos in the dark. The light does not help him as he is frantically running out of reach from the Self-Building Man’s attacks.
“Stop trying to attack me! I’m here for you!” Flint shouts at him.
The Self-Building Man whips his lanky arms at Flint. Flint side steps out of the way as they crash onto a workbench.
“Of course, you are here for me. You will be the parts I need to repair myself!” the young man’s voice proclaims.
Flint finally finds the table where he must place the photo fragments. He runs over as he narrowly dodges another whip attack from The Self-Building Man’s arms. He takes them out of his pocket and places them on the table.
Flint is knocked down to the ground after The Self-Building man successfully whips him with his lanky arms. He groans in pain and looks up at the Self-Building Man approaching him.
He continues whipping his arms at Flint and his general area, landing every single hit. He screams in agony as he gets closer. Flint jerks his head as he groans, causing the light to point away from him. He notices the Self-Building Man lashing his arms at the area of the light.
Taking this chance, Flint takes off his headlamp and throws it away from him. The Self-Building Man approaches the light and starts whipping at the light. Flint slowly rises from the ground, wincing due to his injuries.
He finds that the photo fragments have been scattered. He quickly piles them on top of each other while The Self-Building Man is distracted.
“I’m not the parts you are looking for!” Flint shouts.
Flint turns on the lamp by the desk and moves out of the way. The Self-Building Man turns in the direction of the light and slowly shambles towards it. The Self-Building Man finds the three photo fragments on his main work table.
“This…these parts…” the young man’s voice from the radio mutters.
The Self-Building Man gently positions the photo pieces together so they match and fit. The Self-Building Man takes great care to glue and tape the pieces together. The fragments create Toby’s family photo.
“This…this was the part I truly needed…” the young man’s voice murmurs.
The Self-Building Man takes the photo in his hands. He opens the chest of his robotic body and places the photo in there. The Self-Building Man turns around and sees Flint pointing the revolver at his head.
“I…I will save you.” Flint mutters.
*BANG*
A stream of a bright green flame surrounding the bullet flies at The Self-Building Man’s head.
The bullet pierces through his head. A great burst of light erupts from the bullet hole. The Self-Building Man’s body slowly cracks open. More light erupts from the cracks.
“After all this time…I’m finally fixed…” the young man’s voice murmurs from the radio.
The room is enveloped with the same bright light as the Self Building Man’s body fades away. Flint covers his eyes from the blinding light as his surroundings slowly change.
Flint’s eyes slowly open after noticing the light dissipating. He finds himself in the same large workshop. The tools on the table are placed in labeled bins hanging from the table’s sides. A robotic arm that is made of sleek metallic parts and modeled as a replacement human arm moves around with graceful and smooth movements. Another table has a larger robot that has a rhombus-shaped apparatus with retractable tubes and rubber springs as its main legs which move around with less grace. The sounds of their motors and moving parts fill up the silence in the room.
Flint notices Toby Matthew sitting by the desk where he had placed the photo fragments. Toby is wearing the same checkered polo and khakis as is is seated. Flint approaches him from behind. Toby reads through an academic journal that contains articles on all the newest design methods for mobile robotics. Toby Matthews is vigorously taking notes and sketching newer designs.
Flint looks up and notices many accolades and articles featuring Toby’s designs in a cabinet above the table. Many articles denote him as: “The Robotics Prodigy.”
Flint notices that Toby Matthews hasn’t noticed him yet, despite being right behind him. He pokes Toby’s back and again gets no reaction. Flint hears one of Toby’s robots start sparking and twitching loudly. He turns around and finds the robotic arm spasming and producing smoke. Toby gets up from his seat and runs up to the robotic arm, immediately powering it off.
Toby gets out his notepad and tools from the side of the table.
“Alright, let’s see what’s wrong with it,” Toby says to himself.
Toby cracks his knuckles and grabs a screwdriver. He disassembles the robotic arm, placing the outer metallic shell on one area of the table, and places the screws in a neat pile away from the shell. The scent of something burning wafts into Toby’s and Flint’s noses.
Toby carefully removes the motherboard of the robot and places it in front of him. He grabs a magnifying glass to inspect that one of the wires overheated, damaging the motherboard. Toby looks at the wire that is connected to the motherboard and finds it to be worn down.
Flint notices Toby Matthews throw away the damaged parts and stand up. After searching around, Toby brings back a new motherboard and wire. He plugs the motherboard into his computer and starts importing and adjusting all the necessary code so that the arm works properly and avoids further malfunctions.
Toby Matthews repairs the robotic arm back to its original state. He continues to monitor it and puts it under many diagnostic tests. After he is satisfied with the results. Toby Matthews turns off everything and prepares to leave his workshop.
Flint sees his surroundings slowly fade away as Toby exits. He sees them transform into the interior of Toby’s home. He looks around the quaint living room, noticing Toby’s son sitting on the couch watching a cartoon on the television. Flint hears the front door open.
Toby walks into his home, tired after a long day of work. His son, Mikey does not even bat an eye while he continues watching the cartoon.
Toby sighs and slowly walks down the hall while Mikey goes back to watching the television. Flint follows Toby to his bedroom down the hall narrow hallway.
He sees Toby knocking on the door of his oldest daughter’s bedroom.
“Hey, I’m home.” Toby weakly mutters.
“Go away, Dad.” He hears from the other side of the door.
Toby sighs before opening the door. Flint waits outside as Toby enters his oldest daughter’s small bedroom. His oldest daughter, Mona, is lying on her bed listening to her music with her earbuds on. He slowly walks up to her and nudges her shoulder. She looks up at him, taking off her earbuds.
“Dad, I told you to go away,” Mona tells him.
Toby sits down on his daughter’s bed. He hands her a small toy robot he has designed himself.
“Happy birthday.” He mutters.
Mona gets off her bed and takes the robot from her father’s hands.
“Is this a joke dad?” Mona asks him. “My birthday was a week ago.”
Toby sits there in silence, twiddling his fingers. Mona sits on her bed, staring at the robot.
“Me and Mikey visited Mom at the hospital today. She keeps asking where you are.” Mona tells him.
Toby sits in silence, staring at the floor. Flint notices Mona’s gaze upon the robot turning into one of hatred.
“Mom’s in the damn hospital in severe condition, missing you so much. And where are you? Oh right, building your damn robots!” Mona shouts at him.
She throws the toy robot at the wall, breaking it into many pieces.
“Hey, I…I built that for you…” Toby mutters.
“Really Dad? That’s all you have to say? Even after all of this, you still only care about your damn robots than your actual family! I’m done with this shit Dad! Go and take care of your damn robots! Just leave me, Mom, and Mikey alone!” Mona shouts at him.
Flint trembles at Mona’s outburst. He is reminded of how distant of a father he is to his dearest daughter Lily. Flint sees the pain in Toby’s eyes, knowing the feeling all too well.
“F…Fine then…if that’s how you want it to be.” Toby mumbles.
Toby stands up and leaves the room, hearing her slam the door behind him. Toby walks away from Mona’s bedroom and rushes to the front door. He exits his home, quietly, closing the door behind him.
Flint sees Mikey stand up from the couch and walk over to Mona’s bedroom. Flint follows Mikey, seeing him open the door ajar.
“Sis, are you alright?” he asks.
Mikey and Flint see Mona pressing her face against her pillows as she cries loudly. Mikey approaches her and hugs her from behind.
“Mikey…it will just be us and Mom from now on…Dad won’t be with us anymore…” Mona says to him as she cries.
“Dad won’t be here?” Mikey asks. “What does that mean?”
“It…it means that he’ll leave us…all for his robots…” Mona replies, still crying.
Flint can’t stop himself from crying after hearing her words.
“Ronlo…Lily…I hope you won’t end up like them…” Flint mutters.
Flint notices his surroundings change around him again. They change back to Toby’s workshop. He sees Toby sitting at his work desk, sobbing loudly. Flint slowly approaches him from behind. He finds Toby staring at his family photo as tears stream from his eyes.
“I…I’ve broken something so precious…my family’s happiness…if only I could fix it…” Toby mutters.
Toby and Flint turn around after hearing someone’s steps approach them. Flint’s eyes widen when he recognizes the same man with medium red hair, now this time older and wearing a lab coat over his clothes. The man does not bear
“Who…who are you and how the hell did you get in here?” Toby asks.
“Names are irrelevant at this moment Toby and how I got in here is of no concern to you.” The man tells him.
“Listen, if you don’t get out here I will call the police!” Toby says to him.
The man looks around, admiring the robots in the workshop.
“For a man who is so highly regarded for his robots, you wish to bring back the happiness in your family, is this correct?”
Toby gulps but nods.
“Yes…anything,” Toby says determinedly.
“Perhaps, I can assist you. All I would need from you is a simple handshake.”
The man extends his hand out to Toby. Despite the man’s strange appearance and demeanor, Toby will not let this opportunity go by. Toby extends his hand out to the man and gives him a firm handshake. Toby feels a powerful current of electricity flow through his body. He falls to the ground, unconscious.
Flint sees the man rub his temples and take a deep breath.
“Let these results repeat…” the man mutters to himself. “For your sake, Alaya.”
Flint’s is engulfed in darkness. A large bright light suddenly illuminates a part of the workshop. He finds Toby strapped to a gurney in the standing position. Flint’s eyes widen when he sees portions of Toby’s body replaced with robotic parts. The notable area is his chest is the upper body of a robot.
Toby slowly awakes, feeling groggy and a sharp pain as he moves around his limbs. Toby looks down and screams in horror seeing his new half robotic and half flesh body. Both Flint and Toby hear the crackling of a loudspeaker.
“What the hell is going on here?” Toby stammers as he looks around.
“Toby Matthews.” The man’s voice crackles from the loudspeaker. “To grant your family’s happiness back, you must fix the broken piece. That piece is you.”
Toby shouts in agony as he feels a sharp shock, seeing translucent purple chains stab into his body. Flint braces himself, expecting a horrid fate to fall upon Toby.
“Failure to fix yourself will leave your family forever broken. Experiment #150 The Repair.”
Toby is released from the gurney, but the translucent purple chains remain locked onto him. Toby shambles around, groaning in agony as he feels something other than blood flow through his veins.
He shambles to the nearest table and grabs whatever tools he can hold. Toby unscrews his upper robotic body, making the front plate fall onto the floor. He finds the inside of the body connected to an endoskeleton surrounded by a hollow interior. He notices black sludge oozing within.
As Toby shambles to the hardware and internal wiring components, he feels the purple chains forcibly stretching his legs. He falls to the floor as his legs undergo the deformation.
He crawls to the internal components shelf of his workshop and pulls out the bin containing all the hardware. The bin falls to the ground, spilling the hardware all over.
As he crawls over to the hardware, he screams as he feels his legs corroding away. He grabs the components and sits against the base of the table. He finds that the flesh on his legs has corroded into fleshy black sludge. More black sludge oozes out of his robotic upper body.
Toby shoves the components inside and hastily tries to wire them together. As he does this, he screams in more pain as the translucent purple chains tug on his arms. He sees his arms slowly corrode into a fleshy black sludge, just like his legs. He struggles to wire everything properly as his arms continue to be stretched.
Despite the pain, he manages to wire everything just as his arms have now fully corroded. He crawls over to where he has dropped the front plate of the robotic upper body. He can no longer scream as he feels his face melting off. His lower jaw falls, revealing the metal endoskeleton underneath that is covered in black sludge.
Toby grabs onto the front plate and screws it back on as the rest of his face corrodes into the fleshy black sludge that is found on the rest of his body. Toby slowly stands up, his entire body now turned into a horrid abomination made of both organic and robotic parts, motionless.
The translucent purple chains pull out Toby’s soul. The chains rip apart Toby's soul. The figure screams in agony as his soul is being ripped apart. The figure stops screaming, standing there deathly silent.
Toby's mauled soul is forcefully stuffed into the figure. He stays there, still standing.
“Please…let this be another success.” the man hopes over the loudspeaker. “Please, for the sake of all those who have died in my experiments. Please let their deaths not be in vain!”
Flint looks at Toby, stricken in utter fear. A man who is desperate to fix his family’s happiness has been turned into an abomination.
As the lights are about to dim, the figure’s limbs twitch to life, his body creating electrical sparks. He groans with inhuman voices in utter agony.
“Experiment #150…The Repair: Success!” the man exclaims.
The entire room becomes surrounded by darkness, which engulfs Flint. In the darkness, he sees a white transparent distorted cloud. He sees the cloud slowly refigure itself into a humanoid shape. Flint’s eyes widen when he sees a cloud form into Toby Matthews' figure. Flint sees dark holes in Toby’s body where the robotic and metal parts have covered.
“I know you,” Toby tells Flint. “You’re that detective I chased around. You fixed me.”
Flint stares at Toby, trying to hold back his tears. He understands Toby’s pain all too well.
“Everyone called me the Robotics Prodigy. They praised me for my brilliant designs for robotics in entertainment and health rehabilitation. My accomplishments and my fame were all just a mere byproduct of my neglect. I never wanted to be so distant from my dear wife and children. I’ve always wanted to give them the happy life I’ve never had. A life where their mom and dad would be there and not only just be there, but be someone they could run back to. But…I never provided that. I found myself being there, but not around, just like my parents. Mona…she was so lonely, just like me. And Mikey…he doesn’t acknowledge me. Their mother, the love of my life, Lia has been hospitalized for so long because of her Ataxia. I never knew how difficult it would be to raise them alone. I tried so hard, but my words and actions always seemed to hurt them. I could never visit Lia again after the failure of a father I’ve become. And so…like the true coward I am, I ran back to my robots. They may malfunction, and break down, but I know that I can eventually fix them. I wish, I so desperately wish I could fix the happiness I have broken. But that day will never come. On that day my life was taken from I realized the harsh truth. I am broken and cannot be fixed. Don’t be like me, detective. Be there for your family, even if you ruin it. Don’t be like this coward standing here, who didn’t even try to fix the happiness he had broken. Mona, Lia, Mikey, I hope you have the heart to forgive this coward and live a happier life without me.”
Flint looks at the shadowy ground, letting his tears fall. He cannot help but worry about Ronlo and Lily. He feels shame and guilt over his outburst and argument with his beloved. He doesn’t want them to end up like Toby’s family, but he fears that his outburst is the final straw.
Flint sees Toby Matthews slowly walk away. Flint sees a humanoid figure walking beside Toby, placing its shadowy hand on Toby’s shoulder.
“Toby, no longer shall you be in anguish. I shall give you the chance to mend your broken bonds yourself, unlike the man who has deceived you. But I cannot guide you just yet.” The figure whispers into his ear. “Trust in this detective. He will free you from this hell.”
Toby Matthews’ eyes widen. He turns back to Flint, getting on his knees.
“Detective…please save me. I won’t be a coward anymore. Please detective, let me fix what I have broken!” Toby pleads.
Flint looks at him, wiping off the tears from his face.
“I…I will.” Flint promises him.
The humanoid figure slowly approaches Toby. It helps him up from his knees and guides him away.
“Do not falter, detective.” The figure whispers into Flint’s ear. “There are still more you must save.”
Flint stumbles around, feeling his body and eyelids become heavier. He falls to the ground, passing out.