Designs of our Slave Race chapter 11
Chapter 11
He had
walked for a kilometer before finding ourselves outside an abandoned
house in one of the seedier parts of town: fruit of trying to imitate
America and their horrors. There Ben let me down and I followed him
into the house.
It was
very empty with peeling wallpaper and paint, with the smell of mold
in the air as such unkeep, coupled with Toronto winters would cause
perfect growing environments for such things to spawn and thrive.
Ben would lead me forward where I would see a large gathering of HX01
units, standing in waiting.
“Ben,
what is this?” one of them, with a female voice, asked loudly.
The others
took notice. “That's a human, ain't humans suppose to be evil,
uncaring, creatures?” another in a male voice replied.
“She's
different,” Ben said, “She isn't evil, and she does care.”
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