This is my first short story, so tell me what yall think!!! Peace Ecstacy's High The effort of technology has always been a mystery to me. There was something so perverse and corrupted, yet so intriguing about it. But it’s funny. I guess everything that humans are beckoned to has that sense about it. Sometimes humans see the fire but refuse to believe that they will be burned. They say “I am the biggest trickster (synonym for ‘jacka$$’) in the world. There is no way that a simple flame can burn me! I created it!” Yes, the egotistical juice is flooded throughout all five of the senses and the subconscious. Many philosophers of the Middle Era have said that only technology and civilization can taint a human. That nature is the only healthy way of living. Yet what they don’t realize is technology is only a game of “survival of the fittest” with higher stakes. In nature you can only lose so much. Technology can tear you down to nothing. Maybe I should introduce myself. The label that I was created with was XTC543. The name I travel this living, thriving planet with is Ecstacy. The purpose for me to serve here is to throw justice at those who have committed the sin of being corrupted with technology. You may like to call me a bounty hunter. Whatever you wish. But I am sent here to serve a purpose. I am here to show the “tricksters” that fire hurts. I am the pain associated with this hellish realization. I am of the top of the line family. I pass each and every one of you disgusting beings day by day. You wouldn’t know me from your grocer, employer, co-worker, or the stripper you pay every Saturday to fulfill you carnal lust. I can feign emotion and pain, a trait that was not quite captured by my robotic ancestors. There is no way to prove that I am a living machine. All of my organs are artificial, except the blood, which is provided by bad blood donors, and the brain, which is really only concocted by many wires and currents. Only my creator can kill me. My most dangerous weapon is the ability to transmit disease through blood contact. I am currently living in the country called the United States, the state being New York and the city being named the same. I patrol the putrid streets daily, rushing like humans to make me seem unstoppably busy. I live inside a small apartment in front of a subway station, where all of my orders are transmitted. This horrid, four walled room that I live in used to monitor technology criminals, such as Internet thieves and hackers, and to recharge my brain currents at least four hours within a twenty four hour period. My creator is trying to deplete this necessity, because it makes it seem I need sleep, like a human. I rise from my four-hour recharge. My fax machine vibrates with the vomiting of my next murder of crime. The first thing that falls to the floor is a mug shot of a disgusting, greasy-faced example of the male species. He stares menacingly back towards the world through a camera. He looks at the viewer as if he has been wronged by Earth; as if he was not guilty of past committed crimes. He tries to let his eyes mirror all negativity in his soul, as he knows they have to mirror something. His eyes are like two black stench filled lakes. His nose is flared with anger. His mouth is curled with cruelty. He looks as if he is trying to intimidate someone. The next five pages consist of his biography. His name is Archibald Nelson. His alias is Arsenic Archie. Only accomplices called him that I suppose. His birth date is March 15, 2002. His age is 35. His hometown was Los Angeles, California. He has been convicted of petty larceny to obstruction of justice and everything in between. Even the basic words which makes up his past are set up as if he hasn’t a life anymore. Which he does not. Because he is my prey in this game of “survival of the fittest”. And because I am XTC543, no part of me can be classified as weak. TO BE CONTINUED!!! ERRYBODY STAY TUNED!!!