New Drone

Franklin stood in a white room, eyes shut. It was easier to keep them closed since the light was never shut off- it made the experience just a little more bearable. He didn't know how long he'd spent in the room. He couldn't remember much of his life before it either. There was something in the back of his mind that seemed certain he'd be here for the rest of his life, telling him it was useless to remember anyway. It was a sad thought. It never lasted long though, much like his other ones. It was as if he knew they didn't matter.

The only thing he could remember aside from the white room was when he was taken off to another one that had a chair and screen waiting for him. He'd be restrained in it, forced to watch flashing images as loud headphones blasted in his ears. It only took a matter of time before he felt his mind go numb, succumbing to the attack on his psyche. His body would never be harmed though. 

The only other time he would be led out of the room was for physical care, as far as he could tell. He could never remember the moment he stepped out of his room however, only to find himself waking up back inside the room either smelling of soap, having a shaved head, or with a full stomach. It was disconcerting and oddly comforting at the same time, as if they cared just a little bit about his well-being.

Franklin could tell it was changing something about him however. Physically, he remembered being fit at some point at the start of his time in the room. Now, his body was wrapped in cushiony padding, a soft layer of fat that covered him. It made the room just a little more bearable, a small pillow having grown on the back of his neck that provided a little rest for his head. Habitually, he now stood with his back against the wall, stripped of all clothes. He didn't mind it for some reason. He felt as if he were waiting, but for what he didn't know.

The door opened and he heard footsteps walking in. He kept his eyes closed, not wanting to lose his relief.

"Is this the drone?"

Franklin felt his mind jump to attention. He thought he'd recognized the voice. He'd heard it in his head, phrases played on repeat into his ears, words he could never seem to ignore. The voice commanded his focus.

"Yes sir. Altered according to your specifications. We found them with a pre-existing tattoo, but according to the sheets you stated no preference. Is this correct?

"Yes"

Franklin suddenly felt hands and the brush of leather at his neck. He should have fought back, pushed them away, done anything, but his body wouldn't respond. It felt as though his mind had been locked away from the controls, only able to experience in the backseat. In moments he heard the rattle of a chain attaching to the collar around his neck.

"All his personality has been suppressed. He will respond to your and only your command, unless specified.

"Good" The voice said, before continuing. "In that case, you will respond to drone from now on. Understand, drone?"

"Yes." The drone answered, compelled. It felt panic rise in its throat, suddenly unable to recall any other name for it despite being certain it had another one moments before. The emotion disappeared just as suddenly, just like its thoughts.

"Follow"

The drone was led through hallways it should have remembered, but couldn't, only to emerge back into the world it had once lived in. It knew though, it would never be free again as it was led to its master's car. It would spend the rest of its life standing against a wall at attention, waiting for orders, happy to serve any moment. It knew none of its thoughts mattered, and that it only existed as a display of its owner's power.