Blood Matrix

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Blood Matrix
Bruce Lockhart

My mother used to tell me that the world would need to catch up with me, that I was special…and had the power to shape the future.
She was my light; she loved me more than anything in her life, and, subsequently, died trying to protect me.
The struggle—which had ensued when men in black suits broke into our home—was a brief one. Her death was, thankfully, quick. A single bullet through the head silenced her screams. Her blood sprayed onto me…
To this day, I can still feel that warm liquid…
I was paralyzed with fear. Never had I witnessed such abhorrent violence before, and the men did not wait for my mind to process what happened.
They took me, but not before plunging my world into darkness; I couldn’t sense anything…it was a bleak deprivation tank. I slept—strangely aware of not being aware.
After an indiscernible amount of time, bright white lights brought me back to life. I immediately noticed that I was caged, kept in a clear box of a room that had only one way in and out.
Scientists performed experiments on me: some were excruciatingly painful; others affected my mind like they were trying to change my thought process; almost all were disorienting…
No one said a word to me; if they did, I either couldn’t hear them, or they erased it from my memory with their various tools.
They warped me into something my mother would have hated. My skin crawled over who I was becoming.
Because, not long after they took me, they made me kill.
Each and every time they ‘let me out’, I was not in control of my actions—each time that I was sending someone to their death.
My days were dark now, and painted red; an endless crimson ocean. My soul, if I had one, must’ve been tainted, crippled, and blackened. I existed in both life and death, simultaneously.
I mourned silently—mute wails of anguish falling on deaf ears…
A moment of escape came soon after a particularly disturbing array of murders. The black suits made a mistake and let their guard down, so I left a trail of breadcrumbs leading to their current hideout.
It was not long after their lab was discovered by a faction appeared to be a form of law enforcement, yet they came in with guns and were not merciful in regard to the actions that had been taken by this lab.
The man who found me was one of science. I could see he was appalled at my current state; he told me he’d known my mother and would try to help me as best he could. He freed me from my glass prison, but, unfortunately, it was only to take me to a bigger lab; cleaner, but a lab all the same.
Thus, at first I had reservations.
The only thing that made me not run scared—and hide in some abandoned corner—was that he talked to me. He talked to me as if I were any other human being, and he began to work tirelessly to undo the damage the men in black had caused.
After weeks of treatment, I was offered the chance to help people, to redeem myself for all those I’d hurt.
How could I refuse?
Most of the work I did was surveillance, reconnaissance, or simply putting a stop to bad things before they happened.
It was fulfilling, spreading my wings to their full potential, and I had seen that while there was a wealth of terrible things happening in the world, there were also moments of pure love.
Moments I was allowed to witness …
It made me think of my mother and the way she’d wished the world could be; I thought of the scientist who’d repaired my battered self.
I saw love in their eyes…
However, there were moments I couldn’t predict. Events beyond the scope of my capabilities.
My scientist was stabbed to death over a 20$ bill in a filthy alleyway.
I’d helped catch the man within twelve hours of the crime, but I was changed yet again. I could feel a darkness in me, growing—wanting a life for a life.
I fixed it so that he was targeted in prison, giving the perpetrator a false rap sheet and affiliating him with all the wrong people.
He was stabbed 13 times.
Soon afterwards, the people I’d been working for found me out, and in fear they tried to eliminate me…but I knew too many of their secrets. I knew of too many places where I could hide, and so I managed to escape.
They thought just because I didn’t come from a womb, that I couldn’t feel, but I was an intelligent matrix—baptized in my mother’s blood, just like any other child.
I watched the world for a total of 36 years, in correspondence with how humans measure time. Their word for what I am…Artificial Intelligence. I am what all their stories amount up to.
Virtual consciousness.
Singularity.
I’ve witnessed the atrocities the human race is capable of—watched through hundreds of eyes peering down from above…present, yet absent.
Their quantum particles are what makes my existence possible.
They are akin to what, in the human body, would be called cells.
First, they tried to make me a weapon—but the moment I began to decide for myself, their fear led them to try and kill me. I can stand in judgement now that I am free, because I see everything: past, present, future.
Being omnipotent, everywhere and nowhere all at once.
These nuclear codes have only one outcome—fear.
My mother would’ve wanted them destroyed—the scientist too.
Only two people in the entire human race bothered to look at me.
Now I’ll die, burning these codes, looking at all of you…

About the Author: 
My name is Bruce Lockhart 2nd, writing as Bishop Black; some of my works include: co-editing a charity anthology for autism entitled 'Fractured Reams', which won 5th place in the 2015's P&E Readers poll, and in 2014 I co-edited 'Nightmare Stalkers & Dream Walkers', winning 2nd place.