• Chrysel stared absently. For some reason she just couldn’t focus on reality. She went through her days mechanically. She spoke without emotion, laughed without feeling, cried without sorrow, yelled without anger, killed without remorse. She was and empty shell. A mirage of a self she knew she could never be. She was tired of feeling like this. She wanted her own life. But for all it’s worth, she knew she could never have what she desired most. She knew she had no soul.
    Chrysel looked down at her hand and flexed it. It felt real. She could feel the muscles tighten then relax. Tighten then relax. Her skin dances as she flexed. But she knew her hand wasn’t real. She knew it and, yet, she wished it was.
    Reality for her wasn’t reality at all. She lived her life caged. Let out only to be used, ordered around, tested on, and to kill. She was built to be the perfect weapon. A weapon that felt no emotion, experience no pain. A weapon that felt nothing. An empty vessel to be used however thought pleased. This was her life.
    Chrysel was indeed an android.