Jaz is a young Unaltered girl, living in a world ruled by rich Modified and controlled by vicious Mechanics. She embarks on a interfallacting journey to raise enough money to undergo the process that will turn her into a Modified, but she ends up in a desperate fight for her life where she finds out more about herself than she'd ever thought possible.


9. Chapter VIII

Chapter VIII




I think I might be human again. I pull furiously at the wires at circuitry, not caring about the blood that flows, staining my white cleats crimson brown. 

Get them out! Get them out! A furious chant, ricocheting around my head. I need to rid myself of the machinery, before it's too late. 

The pain doesn't bother me, and so one by one they go, pulled out by my shaking yet desperate hands. When it is done, I collapse in the ground, finally feeling human again, content to let myself bleed. My mind is empty, shattered and in peace. 

When they find me here, like this, then I will be in big trouble. It is unheard of for a Mechanic to go crazy like this, but I was pushed to far. It was all gone now. It's all over with. 

Then she finds me. The one with her vibrant purple hair and scolding lilac eyes. 

Silently, she gapes, then hefts my bleeding form up into her stick-thin arms and carries me, though I don't know where. I black out before we reach it. 


I awake to blinding light, and searing pain. Pain, so strange to feel it, after it was edited out of my mind. 

Then the memories come flooding back, rushing like a river after a monsoon rain. I groan. I was going to be in big trouble. 

The delusions had clearly gotten worse. 

"Are you awake?" A small voice asks. I look up into a pair of hauntingly pale lavender eyes. 

"Yes..." I try and choke out, but in my pained state it came out like yeksh. She chuckles. 

"Would you like me to take you to the infirmary? This place was closer so I just brought you here, but it probably best—" 

"No." She nods, and goes about disinfecting my wounds. 

"How'd you get that ointment?" I rasp. 


"Stole it?" I guess, and judging by how she grows red as a desert sunset, I assume I guessed right. 

Silently, she cleans me up, then pulls out a sewing needle. 

"You're going to need stitches."


After being stitched up I fall back unconscious, the pain nearing unbearable. I know she has questions for me, for the last thing I see is her lavender eyes, filled with curiosity. 

I wake, then tumble under again. It is a constant and vicious cycle, one I can't seem to break. When I am awake, the physical pain is what's unbearable. When I am unconscious, it is the emotional pain that I can't stand. 

I slowly begin to right myself, grappling with consciousness and coming out on top. 

“How long?” I gasp as I fully shoot into awareness. 

“Two days.” The girl says. Do I know her name? Has she told me her name yet? Did I tell her mine?

“What's your name?” I ask, trying my best not to sound to interested.

“Have I not told you?” She asks with a puzzled look. I shake my head ‘no’. “Jaz. Yours?”


“What made you do it?”

She knew I had done this to myself?

“I don't know… I needed to get all that fake out of myself. I guess that doesn't necessarily make sense to you—“ 

“It does. I know how it feel when you need to just tear yourself apart.” She says, and my gaze falls on her arms, covered with the faintest traces of fading scars. I am knocked silent. 

“Oh…” is all I can say. 

“Yeah… how are you feeling?” 

“Better. It doesn't hurt quite as much.” 

“I covered for you with the Assembly representative. They think you've been guarding me this whole time.” 

As she is saying this, our awkward conversation is thrown to a halt, as the Stormer begins to rock violently, throwing us harshly against the wall. 

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