Whispers of the Clones

My head pounded like a jackhammer as I slowly opened my eyes, squinting against the harsh fluorescent lights that flickered above me. The throbbing pain in my temples intensified, pulsating with each breath I took. My mouth felt like the Sahara desert, dry and sticky, and a wave of nausea threatened to overtake me. It was the mother of all hangovers.

I tried to sit up, but a sharp, searing pain shot through my body, as if a hundred tiny knives were stabbing me from within. I groaned and collapsed back onto the cold metal table beneath me. What the hell happened last night? Memories were hazy, fragmented like shards of glass in my mind.

Slowly, fragments began to assemble themselves into something resembling a coherent memory. The neon-lit streets of the city, bustling with people jacked into virtual realities. The deafening sound of hover cars whizzing by as I stumbled out of a rundown bar. The enticing voice of a mysterious stranger promising something extraordinary. And then, nothing.

As I lay there, trying to gather my scattered thoughts, I noticed my surroundings. I was in a dimly lit room, its walls covered in peeling paint and wires hanging loosely from the ceiling. The air was thick with the acrid scent of chemicals and burnt circuits. This wasn’t my apartment; this was some sort of lab.

Panic surged through me like an electric shock, but I fought to keep it at bay. I needed to find answers. Clenching my teeth against the pain, I pushed myself up once more, determined to explore this mysterious place.

As I stumbled through the labyrinthine corridors of the lab, my senses heightened. My hangover seemed to have unlocked something within me, a heightened awareness of the world around me. The flickering fluorescent lights became vibrant trails of color, dancing before my eyes. The hum of machinery filled my ears, every cog and gear a symphony of its own.

I stumbled upon a room bathed in an eerie blue light. The walls were lined with rows of cylindrical tanks, each containing a human-like figure submerged in a thick, viscous liquid. My heart raced as I realized what I was seeing—clones. The lab was creating clones.

Images flashed through my mind, memories that weren’t mine. I saw the experiments, the cruelty inflicted upon these beings in the name of progress. It was unbearable, overwhelming. With each step, pain shot through my body, as if the clones’ suffering was being transferred to me.

But among the pain, there was something else—whispers, thoughts that weren’t my own. The clones, connected on some deep level, were reaching out to me. Their pain merged with mine, their memories intertwining with my own. We were bound together, sharing a collective consciousness.

Driven by this newfound connection, I delved deeper into the heart of the lab. What I discovered shook me to my core. The scientists were not only creating clones but experimenting on them, implanting cybernetic enhancements to push the boundaries of human capability. It was a cruel dance between progress and morality, and the clones were paying the price.

The more I explored, the more I unearthed the dark secrets of this place. Illegal cybernetic experiments on unwilling subjects, mind-altering drugs pushed to their limits. This laboratory was a twisted embodiment of humanity’s insatiable thirst for power and control.

As I dug deeper, I encountered the mysterious stranger from that fateful night—the one who lured me into this nightmare. He revealed himself as Dr. Argos, the mastermind behind the experiments. With a sinister smile playing on his lips, he taunted me, claiming that I was his greatest creation—a human so finely tuned with cybernetics that I had become a living weapon.

In that moment, my hangover became a source of strength, a conduit for my fury. I unleashed a torrent of cybernetic energy upon the doctor and his lackeys, their bodies twisting and contorting under the onslaught. The lab shook, crumbling under the weight of its own malevolence.

As the dust settled, I stood amidst the wreckage. The clones, freed from their torment, thanked me through our shared consciousness. They were finally at peace, their voices fading into echoes within my mind. But the memories, the pain—they would forever remain a part of me.

In the aftermath, I found a hidden room—a sanctuary where the clones had sought solace from their suffering. Among the remnants of the lab, I discovered journals and diaries documenting their lives—their hopes, dreams, and yearnings for freedom. It was in their stories that I found the true measure of humanity.

I knew then that my purpose was clear. No longer a victim of circumstance, I became a guardian for those lost in the shadows. A beacon of hope in a world drenched in neon and cybernetics. And so, with the echoes of the clones guiding me, I ventured back into the city, ready to expose the secrets of this secret laboratory to the world and bring justice to those who had suffered.

For in this gritty cyberpunk world, as broken and twisted as it may be, there will always be those willing to fight against the darkness—to rise above their hangovers and embrace their unique experiences and perceptions.

Author: Opney. Illustrator: Stab. Publisher: Cyber.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.