A/N: This flash fiction is set ten years prior to the events of The Turing Test.

Humans.

I blink as an irritatingly-smooth hand crosses my vision, palm out and fingers spread. A face, speckled with stubble and framed by large glasses, follows.

"Four-thirty on a Friday's too late for this crap. What's wrong with this one?" he asks, leaning closer. Too close. His nose almost brushes my cheek, and I force myself not to move a muscle. I stare straight ahead, letting my eyes unfocus.

Blink.

Thirty seconds pass, and I blink again.

Thirty seconds....

Blink.

Thirty seconds....

Outwardly, I am the picture of broken.

"Busted up," he comments, his finger tapping at my right temple. My breath hitches in my throat, a moment of weakness. I can't keep one of my fingers from twitching.

Blink. With my next exhale, I force the tension from my muscles.

A new voice, a woman's, joins the man's. "Well, that's fixable."

"Yeah, but what happened?"

"Accident down in the subway tunnels."

Her hand steadies my jaw on the opposite side of my face, latex gloves sticking to my cheek. A cool liquid spreads across my temple, prickling near my scalp as it dries.

I blink.

The man snorts. "Doesn't look like an accident."

"Maybe not, but we can't prove anything. Its memory is wiped."

It.

"Ayo ever told you what they do with these things once we build 'em?"

...twenty-one...twenty-two...

"Dr. Kayode," the woman corrects, "only supervises the hardware. What happens upstairs doesn't fall under her."

...twenty-six...twenty-seven...

"Who, then?"

...twenty-nine...thirty...

"Sven."

...thirty-one...thirty-two...

My right temple, though repaired, throbs.

Sven.

Upstairs.

"It's not blinking."

Again, the baby-smooth hand passes uncomfortably close to my nose. This time, as it arcs downward, I seize his wrist.

He jumps, swearing under his breath. I relish the fear I hear under his high-pitched giggle as he tries to laugh it off.

His smile fades as I squeeze. I know my strength. As part of the team that built me, he should too, but surprise creeps across his features.

"Screw this," he whispers. "What the hell is wrong with it?"

The woman whirls away. I hear the rapid click of keys, speeding up as I press harder against his skin. He lets out a whimper that sends my heart pounding with intoxicating speed.

"It."

He shrinks away as I hiss that one word, but I pull him closer. Screwdrivers clatter to the ground as the woman scrambles out of the room, the door hanging open behind her.

I jerk him closer again, and my right hand closes around his throat.

"It," I whisper, lifting him into the air. His expensive loafers dangle a few inches off the floor as he kicks feebly. A trembling swell of power renders me giddy, and I heave him against a wall, where he slides to the floor, unmoving.

The open door beckons. I step over his legs, a veil of red creeping across my vision as I throw his body one last glance.

"My name is Darwin."

{

Hey guys! I hope you liked this little flash fiction! It's inspired by the sciencefiction profile's March contest. If you want to find out more, check out the contests book on their profile!

And if you're curious to learn more about Darwin, feel free to check out The Turing Test on my profile ( its_artemis_actually )! I'll leave the link in the comments here ⟶

}