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.”