Chapter III: DNA.

  “DNA never cares or knows. DNA just is. And we dance to its music.” —Richard Dawkins

  August 28th, 1988. Link II's 5th birthday.

  5 PM, the clock said.

  Link II walked out of his room, dried tears on his face.

  Stepping out to a broken home.

  The couch, walls, and doors, all damaged by inconvenient bullets.

  Turning his head to his right, he saw Samuel passed out on the floor.

  A regular sight for Link II to witness his guardian in.

  A thirst he quenched, dragging him into the kitchen as his eyes darted to the sink.

  Then the cupboard above him.

  Glass cups held in wait.

  His arms reached out towards it, yet barely close to the door.

  Attempting to jump towards it, realizing before lifting off that…

  Samuel would wake, and Link II never liked Samuel when awoken.

  Addressing that he couldn't reach up there no matter how hard he tried.

  Standing in thought, thinking to himself.

  “Maybe I could try something else like the hose outside?

  But wouldn't that wake Samuel?

  Me opening the door and closing it?”

  After a few minutes of thinking, a glass appeared to him.

  On the counter near the stove.

  Standing by itself like it was a savior, strangely intact.

  Peering around it, his childlike mind intrigued.

  “Did we summon a glass from the cupboard?

  That's… actually kinda cool. It looks… really cool. At least I have a cup now.”

  Grabbing it and hovering below the faucet.

  Link II’s right hand moving towards the cold handle.

  Turning it to fill the cup.

  Waiting for it, he began to think again.

  Thinking about that man from the tree again.

  Remembering his smile on top of the already mutilated body.

  His guts dripping from the tree intertwined with blood like an artistic statement.

  As a faint song echoed in his head.

  Telling him of these words, glitching, stuttering to repeat over and over again.

  “Pool full of—full of liquor, ima—ima die in it”

  And low and behold, it sat in his hand after waiting.

  Cold sink water.

  Drinking it on a reflex.

  Its taste almost metallic and rusty.

  Spitting it into the sink from its grotesque taste, its grey color twined with blood inside.

  Staring at it, feeling like a dead man already.

  Slowly panicking, staring with silence.

  His eyes dilating, body shivering.

  Hearing the same voice over again.

  Repeating what he knew with the image of that same, bloody, mutilated man hanging by the tree.

  This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.

  “Pool full of—full of liquor ima—ima die in it.”

  Link II’s mind suddenly throbbing in pain.

  The same car humming from his mind repeated.

  Glancing behind him towards the stove.

  Floating in the air, bending, breaking it with an awful sound heard like chalk scraping against wood.

  Now folded like a child’s drawing, sitting in the air, hung like a hook.

  While Samuel woke up, disoriented and irritated.

  Samuel's mind was only thinking of throwing hands against the person who made those chalk like noises.

  Instantly bolting towards the kitchen.

  Jumping towards Link II, while Link II life flashed before his eyes.

  Over again and again.

  The same blood and tears that made the streets.

  Made everyone.

  Made DNA.

  Closing his eyes, body flinching, ready to run away on instinct.

  But his mind… tells him something different.

  “Let it happen. You'll be okay. Just focus… focus on what you've achieved, like discovering music. FOCUS… on how his body moves, think of the bones of his robotic DNA.”

  For a few moments, it seemed like death would come to him.

  Till he heard the sounds of pianos. Again.

  The weird vocals.

  The almost drug like effect the song had.

  Talking about a blue silver, a sundown sun, and a chauffeur.

  The Chauffeur by Duran Duran.

  When Link II opened his eyes, he found Samuel suspended in the air like an acrobat with straps.

  Trapped in his hand, held by it.

  Stopped mid air before Samuel could reach Link II.

  And for that moment, he didn't fear Samuel anymore, he felt free from the burden of the streets.

  He felt like He-Man after finding his sword.

  The feeling of a weight lifted from his DNA.

  It was as if the music gave him power, the spark to a firework.

  Beginning to slam Samuel onto the floor out of joy and somewhat returned bravado.

  Feeling like the conquer instead of the conquered.

  Each slam felt like a euphoria rush.

  Like a low hum of energy for hurting his opponent.

  But to Samuel, it felt like pines pierced his metallic skin.

  Cactus pricks to skin was the feeling that Samuel felt.

  After a few moments, Samuel yelled out in fear.

  “PLEASE LINK! DONT KILL ME!”

  Link II froze Samuel in that moment, realizing he could kill the person who gave him hell incarnate and never really cared about him.

  Or…

  He could let his good morals do the right thing and let Samuel go like a butterfly.

  He did neither, instead reflecting Samuel’s anger on his own.

  “Oh, damn it, old man! Cut the bullshit! “

  Then another slam against the floor.

  You and I both know you want to die, don't act like you give a fuck about your life.”

  Another slam.

  You are not that stupid to fool me!”

  Slam.

  You could have fucking done something besides sit on your ass crying like a baby!”

  Slam.

  Link II began to cry, his voice becoming high pitched and muddy in vengeance.

  His hands shook with hatred and fear, beginning to thrust Samuel towards the roof and floor below.

  Slamming him in a rhythm.

  “You could've tried to tell the officers not to get me involved…”

  Slam.

  “But you were too fucking scared of a gun to even do shit.”

  Slam.

  “You hide the dope you smoke, and I can smell it all the way from my room, you worthless piece of shit!”

  Two slams this time.

  “Especially the sex with those women you bring.”

  Slam.

  “You think I don't know about shit, Samuel… but I know everything about you.”

  Pausing the slamming to reflect on Samuel.

  “I read your mind every night.

  Thinking about the ways to hurt you back.

  Making you remember each body on those streets you barely heard beg and plead.”

  Then came back to slamming Samuel in a faster rhythm that sounded like a hand spinning in the air.

  Slam.

  Thump.

  Slam.

  Thump.

  Slam.

  Thump.

  “While I had to experience a young boy die right next to me…”

  Slam.

  Thump.

  “If you really hated me that much, Samuel. Why didn't you end me right in front of my mother?

  Slam.

  Thump.

  “Yeah, Samuel. I knew about that. I knew that she abandoned me because she had more priorities than her own son.”

  Slam.

  Thump.

  “Because I gained consciousness from birth, Samuel.”

  Pausing for one last moment before letting him have it.

  “And yet, I never hated her for it.

  Cause she had the balls to tell the truth rather than lie to my face and pretend like she wasn't sorry, Samuel.”

  Throwing Samuel one last time into a final, brutal slam that broke the material of the floor below him.

  Leaving Samuel to pass out on the floor again.

  As the song ended abruptly.

  Fading out into the silence.

  Just then, Link II ran away.

  Hiding in his room, not out of anger or pity but fear at what he just committed towards Samuel.

  Hands trembling.

  Eyes dilating towards them.

  The same actions of anger caused by those men on the streets affecting action and response.

  Glancing at his now shaking hands as he laid in bed, asking himself one question.

  “What the fuck have i done? I… I almost killed a man, a man that sure, deserved it.

  But… Why do I feel guilty for following the rules of those men out there?”

  A few hours later, the clock read 10 PM.

  Link II had passed out on the bed.

  Nose faintly bleeding onto his pillow.

  Samuel woke up, confused as to what had happened to the house.

  Seeing the broken walls of the house, holes in the living room floor.

  The floor he laid on, bent in a crater.

  The stove, bent like crumpled paper.

  Samuel got up and walked to Link II's room.

  Stumbling to the sight of Link II asleep in bed, smiling in his dreams despite sleeping on a moldy mattress that Samuel paid for.

  Walking to his bed, leaning next to Link II, he spoke freely:

  “Kid…. I'm sorry, okay? I know I beat you due to my…ignorance at withdrawal, but honestly, you did so much I couldn't. You had the gall to tell me the truth despite the fear, I… im sorry.

  All i can say is, i just hope you do as I say, not as I do.”

  Samuel leaned down to his head and whispered hesitantly, “L-Love you, kiddo.”

  Kissing his head with intended emotion, but all Link II felt in his sleep was metal touching his skin.

  While Samuel left to his room.

  Closing the door and silently breaking down in anger and self-destruction because of how much he fucked up.