Utterly Mad

A few hours later and B-23 had found himself sitting inside a bar sitting next to a car battery as he charged both himself and the more portable battery on his belt. As he sat there a woman walked over and set a drink in front of him before sliding into the seat across from him. She gave him a sweet smile as she said “You seem interesting. What brings you round here?”

Isaac grabbed the straw of the drink and idly stirred it as the words “Need to pass through here is all.” appeared on the screen.

She smiled as she watched him stir the drink for a few moments before saying “I see. Anywhere in particular you’re going?”

Isaac could see the men slowly approaching as the two conversed. The words “A place. Still have business there.” popped onto it.

At the same time he set the monkey wrench he always carried on the table before looking at the men who’d been coming towards him. “Want to dance?”

The pair looked at each other before laughing. One took the handful of steps left to be at the table and set a machete on it. “Mistake 1” popped onto the display as he grabbed the machete and cleanly cleaved the man’s head off. This was followed up by the machete flying through the air and lodging itself into the second of the thugs. The rest of the bar rose as the second body hit the ground and the words “Mistake 2” appeared.

The first to approach was shouting some random vulgarity at B-23 before he found himself missing his jaw. The questioning look caused by revelation that this was in fact the case was cut short as he was impaled through the eyes with the bone. As he hit the floor holding the bleeding mess the next one swung a club at B-23. In and of itself swinging something at him wasn’t a good move, swinging a blunt object was a considerably worse one. Catching the weapon in his hand ripping it out of his opponent’s B-23 swung the weapon into the man’s stomach. As he doubled over B-23 brought the club over his head and down onto the man’s head.

An oddly satisfying *POP* sounded through the establishment. Straightening B-23 looked at the others as he tossed the club aside. They in turn looked at each other trying to gauge who would go first. Leaning against the nearby bar B-23 waited for the few spare moments he’d get. Which was when he felt the bar tender’s shotgun poke him in the back. The words “Oh you dumb bitch.” appeared on the screen before B-23 turned, both smacking the bartender and wrenching the shotgun from her grasp.

Which was when all hell broke loose. B-23 wasn’t entirely aware of how everything went down. Some of it happened too fast for him to remember and some of it he’d let the robotic side of himself take over for. What he did know was he was covered in blood. Lots of it. Most of the establishment was, now that he looked at it, covered in blood and bone with guns and blades lying all over. Save for the table he’d been sitting at and the woman who’d watched it all.

Taking a few deep breathes to gather himself B-23 walked back over and sat down. He was surprised she hadn’t either joined the men he’d just slaughtered or tried to leave. As he grabbed his backpack she gave him a smile and said “You know everyone in this town is going to be gunning for you right?”

He looked up as the display said “And they’ll find out why that’s a bad idea if they do.” before ducking his head back down to look for that pesky datacard.

She finished her drink and set it on the table as he pulled out the one he’d been looking for. Opening one of the slots on the side of his head B-23 observed the woman for a moment before the words “You aren’t from here.” appeared on the screen.

“Correct. I think we’re both heading out of here as well and now that you’ve gone and done this we’re both in a predicament.” She said as she watched him.

B-23 shrugged as “Give me a minute to do this and we can fight our way out.” floated onto the screen.

Plugging the data card into the slot on his head B-23 felt the familiar tingle as the message ‘Choose file to overwrite’ appeared in his view. Looking at what he could get rid of he settled on the, relatively to him, useless skill of cooking. He wasn’t sure why that was even there but he could feel it being overwritten. After a couple of minutes of him staring almost blankly into space B-23 snapped back to reality and pulled the card from his head before placing it back in his bag. “Good to go, just need to take some weaponry.” slowly filled onto the screen before fading.

Walking over to a man who’d ended up missing both arms and his head B-23 reached down and grabbed the Tommy gun that had twirled through the air to his feet. Grabbing the bag that had fallen to the body’s side he checked it and found the spare magazines. Putting the sling over his shoulder B-23 picked up the shotgun and walked over to the bartender, the only other person he’d let live. The single word “Shells” popped onto the screen and she put the two boxes she kept under the counter on top of it.

Taking the shells he emptied one box into his jacket pocket and put the other with the spare magazines in the bag he’d lifted from the body.Walking to the door the woman joined him. Stepping out the door B-23 let the programming take hold as he started firing at the gathered mob...