Memoirs of a Dollface: File Entry_101
A proposed change in plan led to my being selected for a client as an escort to a holo-cinema premier. A rented date. I was made up to look like one of the actresses who had backed out due to a threat against her. So, wearing a bright red, silken, flowing dream of a dress I left hair and make-up with my hair pulled into a sleek ponytail and tried not to trip in my 3-inch heel silver boots.
In the Client Chamber, a somewhat short, pale, plump little man in a tuxedo grumbles about adjusting his height to avoid his pants flooding. He whips around to see me standing at the door. His short wavy hair glistens in the fluorescent light as I feel new programming kick in. I am to be madly in love with this man for the duration of the rental, the next 48 hours.
I feel myself softening towards him, feeling empathy, longing, depression for the lack of attention he is showing for my glamorous entrance. Instead he adjusts his suit, huffs a sigh, and sits down looking critically at me. I feel sickened, like eminent rejection is coming. He cocks his head to the side and begins to relax.
“This just might work. You look great kid.” he says. “My name is Charlie and you will be my new best friend for a while.”
“I’m Abigail.” I say, starting to lift out of my gloom.
“Today, you are Cora. Well, for the next two days anyway. Shall we?” he says, rising and motioning to the door.
He quickly sweeps me from the Dollhouse to the limo, then to the crowded street of movie goers straining to see any glimpse of a star from the show. We pull up and as he steps out the cheers and screams of women resound through the car like shrieks from a banshee.
He stands at the ready holding his hand out to me, a gentleman. The barrage of jeers proceeds. I expect rotten food to be thrown at me and a random person to try and attack me. But, I don’t care as long as Charlie continues to look at me with the adoration his eyes bewitch me with.
A little blue light blinks at the corner of my retina display. I am being remotely accessed, by Charlie.
I open my eyes to find that I am not at the movies, I am in a bed, under a sheet, and Charlie is sitting at the edge of the bed with nothing on. I assume the worst has happened. But, it is so much worse than being taken advantage of.
I have been dismembered. I do not feel a thing, perhaps a strange mercy bestowed by Charlie when he remotely accessed me. My voice functions have been disengaged. I flex my index finger and see it squirming on the floor past the edge of the bed. I look at Charlie heartbroken because my programming says I am still in love with him.
“It’s done. Publicize the gore and ship the doll back. As long as the threat looks like it was carried out then our company shouldn’t suffer more than marginal damage.” Charlie says into a comm-link embedded into his hand.
“I’m sure you’re awake by now. This is why I rented you. If you were a real person I would feel really bad. But, you are just a shell that no one is plugged into. So, consider his your civic duty. Standing in for the real people plugged in. I turned your pain sensors off because I don’t believe in needless suffering. I turned your voice off so you can’t call for help until the Sentinels comes to get you. It’ll be a few hours before they pick you up. I just have to broadcast a few images and arrange for my exit. You will be offline until then.” Charlie tells me over his shoulder.
Then there is a gap in time. Just nothingness. I awaken in a Repair Ward, sitting upright, with a strange feeling of new oil patches. Maybe to re-seam my skin from where I was dismantled.
“I don’t know what happens after that.” I tell Frankie at the Repair Ward.
I have been here for the last day being repaired, re-programmed, and prepared for the next mission.
“Why don’t we just clear your memory dear?” he says as he plugs a port into my wrist. I see the whole thing play backwards until all I can remember is the remarkably beautiful red dress.
“Who are you and why am I here?” I ask the Repair Ward bot in front of me.
“Routine check-up dear. You are cleared to go back to work.” he says. “I’m Frankie by the way. See you next time.”
A beautiful Sentinel with pea green skin approaches from the back corner of the room. “Okay Abigail, let’s get you back to the Dollhouse.”
I nod, rise, and walk towards him. His eyes are full of sadness that seems misplaced. I can’t help but feel like I know him somehow. But, that sounds silly since I can’t remember yesterday… or the day before.
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