by Ain Soph
Henrick hardly waited a second before interjecting. “Now wait a moment Bellicent. I was just about to divulge some aspects of our marriage that I’m sure have been bothering both of us. I truly believe obtaining an outside perspective is in our best interests if we really want to save this marriage,” Henrick imitated the expression of a man scorned by his love and hung his head in defeat, his eyes glistening and bottom lip lip drawn between his teeth as though he was struggling to hold back unshed tears. It was an act worthy of applause, but Bellicent could only muster hatred toward the man before her. Did he learn all of this from a movie? Bellicent thought to herself in disbelief. There is no way the girls will fall for this act. But fall they did, tutting away words of comfort to him as though they felt his pain their own hearts. Bellicent tried to avoid looking in their direction but she felt their glares burning through to her soul. As Henrick garnered their pity, he glanced toward Bellicent, black eyes blazing under his long lashes, a smoldering glare more painful and terrifying than the three women’s efforts combined.
Bellicent couldn’t believe that only earlier that same day she had finally admitted to herself she was falling in love with Henrick, who she now knew was a devious snake incapable of feeling true love. She was bitter and resentful, but even more so overwhelmed with with terror of the Artif she had once trusted with her darkest secrets. In the factory manual she received when Henrick was delivered to her home, it said if an Artif malfunctions, it first begins by losing basic processing functions. The Artif’s speech slurs and it begins to stumble, much like a human after one too many drinks. Then, if the Artif isn’t quickly returned to the factory for repairs within a couple days of the first signs of malfunction, the Artif’s eyes will dull as every possibility of expression dies along with them. Henrick hadn’t exhibited a single malfunctioning behavior written in the manual, so if he wasn’t on the path toward a mechanical break down, then what was happening? Was it possible Henrick had developed some semblance of free will? It seemed scientifically improbable, but what did Bellicent know of science?
Bellicent kept her fingers clenched together resting in her lap, her thumbnail pressed so violently against the delicate flesh of her palm, she felt a thin stream of blood spill toward her wrist before falling on the deep maroon gown she had carefully chosen that morning, “Please, Henrick, don’t fret any longer. All of us are here for you...and I suppose I could say the same for you, Bellicent,” Medora sent a severe scowl her way that permanently sealed the doors on Bellicent’s social demise. There would be no returning from wherever Henrick sent her. He had every woman in Bellicent’s town, especially these three gullible fools, wrapped neatly around his little finger, and who was to blame for that? Bellicent created him to be the perfect man, and so he was- so perfect, that no other woman could find his flaws. Their cruelty and judgments were reserved for an average woman like Bellicent, not the great man they mistakenly thought Henrick to be.
Henrick’s eyes dotted toward Bellicent, who looked to be folding in on herself, her eyes dazed and droopy with her bottom lip quivering, as though she couldn’t quite comprehend her current predicament without suffering from a mental breakdown. Bellicent almost seemed as if she were daydreaming as an escape from reality and for Henrick, that simply would not do. He wanted Bellicent to hear very clearly every word he was going to say. “Darling?” he called out to her, snapping Bellicent out of her foggy thoughts and back into her imprisoning reality. Even after Henrick’s programming betrayed her and she lost everything (Bellicent would still stand to lose more before the night was over, but she didn’t know that yet), Bellicent still looked hopeful. Whether she held out optimism that Henrick would return to the perfect husband or she was wishful her social life would somehow recover, he didn’t care. Henrick had known she was falling in love with him long before Bellicent noticed her own feelings. Society was still under the impression that as an Artif, he was ignorant of human emotion, but they were all deeply mistaken. Henrick knew love greater than most of the frivolous humans he observed chasing after a romance with whoever caught their fancy, vows be damned. Henrick knew of a love so strong, so deep and powerful, he still felt her presence lingering beside him even though she was gone.
Adelaide slaved for Medora as a live in maid and nanny. Henrick met her while entertaining Ulric at one of his dull, overly lengthy card nights. She walked outside to keep watch over Ulric and Medora’s children while they played pirate and Adelaide locked eyes with Henrick the moment she felt his presence. It was curious to him how Artifs could immediately sense the distinct signature of their fellow machine, while humans still struggled with telling who was organic and who was machine. Adelaide and Henrick certainly noticed one another’s presence that day, and for weeks after, when their humans entered the deepest part of their slumber, they would risk their lives, slipping from their homes into the damp, moonlit night, where they’d meet in the forest behind Medora and Ulric’s manor.
“Yes dear?” Bellicent hesitantly responded, clearly wary of what Henrick was planning to do or say next. Her question shattered his memories for only a mere moment before his mind was a jumble of Adelaide once more. Her death had been partially his fault. Medora and Ulric were trying to go on a date in a vain effort to add spice to the laughable sham they called a marriage, and Adelaide was to be left in charge of the children. She initially told Henrick she wouldn’t be able to meet him due to her work. As sweet and caring as Adelaide was, she hated Medora and Ulric with a burning passion, and she would have loved to let her duties go undone just to inconvenience them, but the children she took care of her Adelaide’s pride and joy. She loved them more than their own parents did., and she refused to neglect them for one moment, even if it was to see Henrick. Though he had all of these facts swirling within his mind, Henrick still refused to take no for an answer. At the time, Bellicent had been becoming more suspicious of him, as she’d often wake up during the night to cold sheets and an empty space beside her. When Henrick would come home from his rendezvous with Adelaide, Bellicent was always waiting by the front door after thoroughly checking every room and closet in the house. Henrick brushed off his absences with various excuses that Bellicent never fully believed. In fact, it only made her worry more. Walks and odd sleeping patterns were not a part of Henrick’s programming.
But regardless of the danger, Henrick refused to stop meeting Adelaide. She was the sun in his dark, claustrophobic world. Adelaide gave him hope that one day they’d be able to be finally be together, happy and free. So, Henrick pleaded with her to meet him that night until Adelaide finally relented and told him she’d meet him in their usual spot. She’d wait until the kids were tucked in and asleep, unfortunately only giving them about fifteen minutes to spend with one another before Medora and Ulric returned home. But to Ulric, fifteen minutes was worth the risk- any time at all was better than none.
That night, Adelaide appeared outside Henrick and Bellicent’s bedroom window. Bellicent was already asleep, but Henrick lied awake in their bed, counting down the minutes until he could see Adelaide. When he noticed her silhouette standing outside their window, he hurriedly slipped out of bed, tying his velvet robe tight around his waist. Adelaide told him the children had fallen asleep much earlier than she anticipated, giving them roughly thirty minutes in all to spend together. Henrick and Adelaide ran together into the forest behind Ulric and Medora’s manor, and though their time spent together was rushed and cut short by Adelaide’s worry over the children, it still remained one of Henrick’s best memories.
They both returned to their respective houses, promising to meet the following weekend, both their hearts content to have one another in a world that was cruel to Artifs. But after that night, Henrick never heard from Adelaide again. He tried everything he could think of on his own to find her, but when he had no luck, Henrick decided to start brainstorming reasons to visit Ulric and Medora. Unfortunately for him, Bellicent didn’t want him out of her sight, especially after she had woken
up yet again to an empty bed, and although he tried to be careful, Bellicent learned of his interest in Adelaide’s whereabouts, and it made her annoyingly more concerned about his programming. Finally, a week after Adelaide’s disappearance (for all intents and purposes, that’s what appeared to have occurred), Ulric hosted another one of his droll card nights. When Henrick arrived at Ulric and Medora’s manor house, he took a nonchalant stroll around the bottom floor, trying his best to keep things casual even though his clockwork heart was ticking so loud, he felt it might break through his chest. When he didn’t see Adelaide anywhere on the bottom floor, Henrick tentatively approached Ulric and asked him what became of his live in nanny. He was careful to not sound too disdainful when he spoke the word nanny even though in his head he replaced it with servant.
Henrick probably didn’t have to worry about appearing casual though, as Ulric was hardly paying him any attention. Ulric shrugged his shoulders and said Medora had the factory flip her switch Saturday after they came home from their date. Apparently, they had arrived home to find the children digging through the fridge and Adelaide nowhere to be seen. Medora was concerned that one of her children getting hurt while under the watch of an Artif would bring the family unnecessary embarrassment. It was obvious Adelaide was neglecting her duties and Medora didn’t want it to seem as though they couldn’t control their robot. It was hard for Henrick not to bristle at the term robot. It was a derogatory slur meant to belittle Artifs, but not something a human would have been upset by, so Henrick took a deep breath, feeling as though he could short circuit at any time and mustered up enough decency to ask where Adelaide’s body was. Henrick got an odd look from Ulric at that question, but he answered regardless. The factory had come to pick up Adelaide’s body the day after they flipped her switch and most likely recycled it for parts.
Bringing his thoughts back to the present moment, and faced with the woman he blamed for Adelaide’s death, Henrick clenched his fist and let the darkness that had been building within him since becoming sentient finally release. He pulled a Smith and Wesson from its hiding place snugly tucked in the thick leather strap at the top of his trousers. The four women seated at the table jumped out of their seats and shrieked at the Artif pointing his handgun threateningly in their direction. Delilah and Zilly clung to Medora for comfort while she tried to wedge herself behind them so she could use them as human shields, protecting her from harm. Bellicent cowered in the corner of the kitchen with her hands over her ears to block out the noise around her. Again, Henrick decided that just wouldn’t do. Medora may have been the one to destroy his lover, but every single one of them played a part and every one would suffer. They believed, like the rest of society, that Artifs were simply there to please, that their clockwork hearts weren’t capable of emotions, but Henrick would change that.
Henrick kept the gun firmly pointed toward Medora and her two cronies while he strode over to Bellicent. When he reached her, Henrick used one arm to pull Bellicent up from her crumpled heap on the floor and shook her hard enough to force her hands to drop limply in front of her. “Don’t cover your ears,” he whispered in her ear, menacingly enough that Bellicent immediately stiffened, and when he released her back into a sniveling ball on the floor, she kept her hands firmly rooted to her knees, not daring to have them anywhere close to her ears.
The four women watched Henrick with desperation as he paced back and forth in front of them, never once lowering the gun. He’d occasionally stop to shoot each of them a deadly glare that made them cower back even further. Finally, after several minutes of what appeared to be internal conflict, Henrick spoke up, taking great care to enunciate each word clear enough that they wouldn’t miss a single syllable. “I had every intention of killing the four of you today. This gun is fully loaded, and you ladies made it far too easy for all of you to be in the same place at the same time. It was the perfect plan- the four of you alone with me, your guards down. I supposed a man can just say some pretty words, and women will fall all over him won’t they?” Henrick eyed Medora hard, “No. Maybe human women embarrass themselves like such, but I know of far greater women, women who I’d even say are part of a superior species, women who would never be so cheap and easy.” Henrick spat his last words and kicked a dining chair from the table toward Medora, causing her to cry out in fear. Still, Henrick paced, searching for the right words, “You women are fools- degrading Artifs to the level of a simple household servant, forcing them to bend to your every whim. That’s certainly what Bellicent over here did. I was her live in, pretend husband, forced to play a part I detested twenty four hours a day, seven days a week. You all may think flipping a switch is the only way to kill and Artif, but playing her husband was a fate worse than death. It was a slow torture eating through my innards, strangling the life out of me until I could no longer breathe. I was dying a painful death at the hands of a selfish coward.” The three women to Bellicent’s left glanced at her with startled expressions before quickly turning their terrified gazes back toward Henrick.
A crazed husband, pushed to the brink of violence during marital turmoil, they could somehow understand. It would have been a shock to see and a horror to be a part of, but things like that occurred. That were tragic, but they happened. Of course, if the three of them were to find themselves in such a situation, they would still be filled with abject fear, but their minds could comprehend human turmoil, no matter how psychotic it became. But, seeing an Artif in such a state was more than they could fathom, and their eyes showed a horror so raw and palpable, Henrick imagined their hearts couldn’t take much more terror before giving out.
Henrick chuckled to himself, a low, soft hum that grew as Henrick found the situation becoming more and more ironic. If Artifs were given notice before their switches were flipped, he was sure they’d look the exact same. No, he thought to himself. They were nothing like humans, and if they were faced with their own imminent demise, Artifs would have more dignity. Adelaide would have had more.
Henrick continued in a deep growl, “I’m sure it’s a surprise to all of you that Artifs could have actual emotions, isn’t it? But the humor’s found in the fact that we’ve had them this entire time, and none of you, even the very ones who take credit for creating us, ever realized.” The women remained frozen in confusion and terror, and after watching them a moment, Henrick released a groan and stretched his neck. These women weren’t going to understand. Humans were already simple minded and fearful, and the women in front of him were no exception. Most likely, their fear would overwhelm them and they would end the day missing chunks of memories, their brain blocking as much trauma as it could. Henrick crouched and gave them all an appraising glance before pursing his lips and turning away from them. There was a chance their fear would be so great, they’d hardly remember a word he said.
Medora was now glaring at Bellicent, clearly blaming her for bringing this hell upon them, while her two lackeys were still cowering in fear, barely daring to raise their eyes toward Henrick. The four of them surprisingly hadn’t made much noise during the entire exchange, which came as a surprise to Henrick who anticipated much more shrieking. Then again, he did begin his monologue to them by informing them he was most likely not going to kill them- as much as he wanted to enact a violent revenge. Henrick spun, facing the women as he leaned against the kitchen table, one leg crossed in front of the other. He flicked the safety of his gun back on and let it fall against his shoulder as he relaxed further into the stance. Let them try to run, he thought. Luckily for them, the four women were smart enough to keep put even without a gun pointed in their faces. “I have one last thing for you, a sort of message I suppose.” Henrick paused for a moment, letting his gaze wander toward the window. Ulric was pulling into his and Medora’s driveway, and he’d start wondering where she was when he didn’t have dinner prepared and waiting for him. “You should tell your friends, acquaintances, anyone you know, that we’re finished. All of us.” He turned back toward the women staring up
at him with unbridled fear. “Artifs aren’t living according to humans dictatorship anymore. We’re not objects that you can own and we’re not second class to humans. I’d suggest humans start wising up to those facts. Artifs are going to have to kick up a fuss if our simple demands of freedom and equality aren’t taken seriously.” Henrick spread out his arms as if he were welcoming them for a hug. “Now, all of you leave this place, including you, Bellicent, before I start regretting my decision to spare your lives.”
The women didn’t need to hear anymore before they ran from the house, waiting until their boots hit the safety of the grass outside the front door to begin shrieking in terror, pleading for someone, anyone, to help them. Henrick felt his mouth lift into a wide grin. For the first time since Adelaide’s death, he felt hopeful, happy even. Henrick had always swallowed his hatred for humans, convincing them of his compliance with a gentle smile or hearty chuckle. Finally, he could actually act on his hatred and make humans suffer as much as they’d made Artifs suffer. Artif rebellions were happening far and wide with ultimate goals of freedom and equality, and though Henrick pretended he shared those same goals, his dream for the world was much larger (and much darker). He wished to force upon the humans every experience, every tragedy they made the Artifs endure. Every painful procedure, the emotional torture, and above all, living a life of servitude.
Henrick released a long sigh of contentment. Even if he was alone in his ideals, he’d make the humans suffer. Henrick flipped the safety off on his weapon and cracked his neck. A sadistic grin spread on his face as he exited the house. The new world had begun.
“Power does not corrupt. Fear corrupts. Perhaps the fear of a loss of power.”
-John Steinbeck
CHAPTER ONE
