Adjutor
Adjutor raised an eyebrow at the man's comment, the expression hidden by the armor, before deciding to ignore the comment and make his way in. Unfortunately, upon entering, he found himself being ambushed by six cyberzombies, which made short work of the teen.
The end.
It hurt. It hurt it hurt it always hurt, but sometimes it hurt like it was just needles prickling your eyes and not coming out of them. Sometimes the pain was noise in the ears inside and outside and the graphs in some distant lab - oh, but it wasn't because they had made that stop hurting and they thanked themselves for it. And others hurt, and burned, and they all needed what made them feel less alive because they were dead already, they couldn't have that.
There were tubes and metal and drugs under rotting skin, and sparks under blood and muscles that opened into barrels and saws. It was a face, but not their true face, because below were gears and disks that turned around and through hearts and lungs that beat and expanded with injections and shocks, and that wasn't their face either but it was like skin and a prison if the bars were bones and hydraulics, gunpowder and lines of bullets were under, in, their gums, out their mouth, and vision that went somewhere else.
And, and they all saw him, and he was a WILLIE but not like a willie, he wasn't. No syringes, no orange outside but THERE WAS RED INSIDE AND. Close enough. They needed.
Help. HELP THE WILLIE. Yes, help, THEY HAD TO SAVE, HE WAS IN A TORTURE SHAPED LIKE HIS BODY TOO. IT WAS CRYING, CRYING, CRYING - who was? No, they had to help, HELP HELP US HELP YOU HELP US
It leaped and there was much roaring, and emotions died like the coldness of a crowd, surrounding him with all those plastic and plasteel faces. A hand opened up, out trailing a rocket that was the touch of a friend, and then it yelled and they all rushed.
"WWIIIILLLLLLIEEEEEE, YOU'RE STITCHED UP TOO. YOU'RE GLUED BAD AND IT HURTS B-B-B-BUT I'LL FIX IT"
And they beat and smashed to free him of his skeleton, of his skin and of his senses, but it wasn't enough, no, they weren't really releasing him. It was inside, the real face, strapped on a grinding wheel with something else.
So they pulled and opened, tearing in freedom, and it all spilled out with his life. The end.