120,000 deaths in a single outbreak. That is what the history books will tell you of Tynesprawl. What the books don’t tell about that time in 2047 is that not everyone died from chemical poisoning. No, the Office of the Lord Protector would not allow their outbreak to expand to the non-toxic zones. They needed to quarantine the infected, they needed to quarantine those who were possibly infected. I was there for the massacre. I was everyone, and I was no one.
After the cleansing, the machine guns were piled knee deep in bullet casings. But the amount of flesh was too much, and without firemen to contain the mass incineration of bodies through napalm strikes, other methods were required. They used bulldozers to take the corpses to the stadium. Workers in hazard suits started the engines of their chainsaws. They started cutting everyone up into pieces, day and night. The blood soaked the bullet casings. The flesh was accumulated in huge piles, to be thrown one by one thrown into contained incinerators. When they were done piling up the victims, they collected the used bullet casings to be recycled. I like to think that I am a recycled product, too.
The pile of body parts covered in toxic waste interacted with each other, sometimes successfully fusing with each other, other times rejecting and dying. Being born was painful. I started gaining memories. Initially, most of them were about being gunned down by LPO, from what seemed a thousand points of view. Later I gained memories as my flesh mass started assimilating more heads, and my cognitive reasoning started working again. Thoughts. Senses. Feelings. I grew and encompassed a thousand parts, a thousand lives. Then the chainsaw cut into my foot. Or my hand. I couldn’t tell, but it hurt like hell.
Through dozens of eyes I saw them cutting my new body down and throw the pieces to the incinerator. I had to move fast to survive. I started assimilating every body part I could. They noticed and panicked. So much for them not using napalm. I ran as fast as I could but they burned me down with flamethrowers. In the end all I could do to save myself was save all my thoughts into a brain and throw it in the sewer grating before the rest of me burned.
For years my brain lived underwater, trying to not decompose myself. I assimilated anything alive that wanted to eat me. But the flesh was not human, and I felt myself dissolving. That’s when they started appearing. Body parts thrown in the sewers. I have never felt better about a mass murderer.
I gained a hand, and an eye. I recomposed myself. But my body was old, and parts kept dying. Luckily, every major holiday, the stranger killed some more in the same spot, and I got more body parts. Two years later, I was whole and fresh again, humanoid, but not for long. I went to the surface and relearned being human. But I always came back for more parts.
He dropped a fresh head once. As I touched it I got the fresh memories of horrific medical experiments happening before the mutilation by this doctor. I tried to confront him, but he noticed me, recognized my new head, and ran away. I couldn’t let him keep feeding me the parts of innocent victims. the corpses of criminals and evil doers would have to do to keep me alive.
And that is why I joined MI-6.