Synthetic Heart

13 - Contagious

   Megan drops her bag on the chair beside the window. She switches the light on and looks around. She then slowly put Chucky down on the chair, and closed the door behind her.

"Where are you going to sleep in?" she asks, pacing the room. A tv set was sitting near the bed, and a lamp was lit up.

Chucky leans his arm on the armrest, "Beside you." he says, waiting for her reaction. Megan turns with an eyebrow arched up, "No way that's happening." she replies, letting herself fall onto the wide bed.

Chucky chuckles and jumps down, "You choose: the bed or the tub." he threatens her, standing on the gray carpet.

"How can I be so sure you won't kill me in my sleep?" she asks him, looking up at the ceiling, her arms spread wide.

"Yeah, sure. I kill you and I drive the car myself all the way to Chicago."

She sneers, a smile back on her face again. "Hey Charles," she starts. Chucky groans after hearing her call him by his real name.

"Thanks." she says, "...for letting me rest tonight."

Silence broke them up for a while, until Chucky replies before he locked himself in the bathroom, "It ain't a problem, prettyface."

"Ugh," Megan covers her face, "Stop calling me that." she says.

"What? Pretty face?" he repeats with a snicker, "Get used to it. Don't act like you don't call me with my old name too."

"That's a different thing." she accuses, and he replies back, "Well it's actually not bad, just 'cause you're the one calling me that." he tightens his lip with a smirk and shuts the door in front of him.

"And I kind of like it when you call me that..." Megan whispers to herself, as she turns her head to the other side, smiling.

* * *

   Is this how it feels like? Feeling love? I'm not even sure if it is, because I am not confirming it to myself. I am a woman, and I am sensitive no matter what. But I used to handle things like these, especially because of the work I have.

   I meet people, but I erase the connection. No past, No nothing. It's how it works.

But in this situation? It's a whole different thing. I have no idea how I'll get out of it. Especially now... Now that I don't want to.

   Call me crazy, but I know there's something about Charles. Behind his notorious violence, he somehow cares. Maybe, it's not just because I'm helping him. What if it's because he felt like we clicked too? (I know, what a hip term right? But whatever.) Maybe he felt like we can only trust each other, no one else.

   Because that is what I think. I really think we're the only ones who we can trust in this world. He's dangerous, and I am too. Maybe if he just knew... He might want to team up, and maybe I could talk to him about what I feel.

   No embarrassment on my part. I am a woman, still, even in any circumstances. I can feel, and at this time, right where I am now, I can't fight the feeling off. It's simply contagious. I have to know if I am in-love.

* * *

   I stand on a pile of boxes from the cabinet at the other side. The bathroom was huge in spite of the room being a suite. Grabbing the key for a large room was a total coincidence, but this strange shitty decision I made, isn't.

   We're running slow on my mission. I haven't tracked Andy until now, and he is still obviously alive. I'm not getting any younger, and I am turning into a human. Pretty soon, I'll be stuck in this body, and I haven't made my right choice yet.

   It is hard to find the perfect body to transfer my soul into. It isn't easy as pie. I need a body where I won't have any problems, where I can do things that are unquestionable. Where they wouldn't want to kill me.

I look at my reflection in the mirror, observing every detail of me. I look scary... and hideous. I wonder how Megan can stick with a man like me. How she can stay, not wanting to cry nor throw up after seeing my almost human-like face.

Shit. I almost look human.

I look down on my rubber hand, turning it slowly to see my palm. I take a friendly razor blade and try to prick my finger with it. "Shit." I say after a gasp. I throw the razor blade in the trash bin and watch my synthetic finger bleed. It did hurt, and it did bleed. I need to transfer myself into someone, fast.

* * *

   Megan lies on the bed, her arms folded and tucked next to her chest. She stares at the lamp in the dark. She hears the door open, and footsteps coming closer. It stops for a moment, but it continues again. She hears Chucky sigh, and the couch making a sound.

"Chucky?" she says with a calm voice, 

"I'm sleeping on the couch, don't worry." he says back. 

But Megan closes her eyes and smiles, "I know" she replies, "Good night." 

"Good night."