003: Tears | Purgatory

This short story follows the backstory of Oswin Markoras, a character in the Boards RP Welcome to Purgatory. I highly recommend joining if you like to write.


“Thirty five seconds left, Oswin.”

It was undeniably difficult beyond anything else he had ever done. But, he also knew very well that this task would be utterly insurmountable for anyone else on the planet. He had to accomplish it, if for no other reason than to prove he could.

“What on earth-?!” The voice of the head professor of mechanical engineering had a shrill whine to it, no matter what volume he was speaking at, but Oswin could practically hear him adjust his glasses as he spoke in spite of the distracting nature of his vocal chords. “Cease this immediately! That’s school property you’re messing with!”

“Why, sir,” The vulture-faced dean of the college turned, his calm and demure behavior capable of commanding just about anyone to oblige. “Is there something amiss with the test we are performing?”

“Th-That’s my car!” The professor pointed at the pitifully tiny vehicle held aloft by the finest technical marvel the college had ever produced. “You have no right to perform these experiments on a piece of private property!”

“It is the facility car, and part of the college property, not your own.” The dean rested his chin on his hand as he turned his gaze back towards Oswin. “Besides, I would not gamble any part of the facility’s resources on this test if I was unsure the proper precautions could be taken to ensure its safety.” Both men’s eyes traveled upwards, eyeing the safety cables and heavy chains drawn almost taut between the vehicle and the ceiling.

“And that’s time!”

The student body erupted into applause at Oswin’s stunt, the diminutive mechanical boy removing the blindfold over his eyes with a sheepish smile. Never before had any of those studying at the college managed to balance a smart car with their feet while doing a headstand and chopping fifteen onions blindfolded, nor was that feat likely to be repeated ever again.

“I must say,” The dean motioned for the chains to tighten, finally lifting the vehicle off of Oswin’s body. “That was beyond impressive what you did there, boy. However, Professor Meyer’s remonstrance is well taken. While Oswin’s design is superb, the tests performed as classroom examples were perfectly permissible as reasonable demonstrations of the principles of design in application with the college’s own work as example.”

“However,” He turned to make it even clearer he was addressing the student body as Oswin struggled back into his t-shirt. “The amount of technical info that can be gleamed from this presentation is minimal at best. There are already tests to demonstrate the impressive force the frame can withstand, the delicate balance it can achieve, and even the compensation factor for when visual sensory deprivation occurs. So this will be the first and last time a test such as this, which serves for little more than entertainment, will occur.”

“However, for this one-of-a-kind feat, I think Oswin deserves a round of applause.” He gestured to the lad, and the somewhat disappointed crowd forgot their having lost this rather unique form of entertainment and clapped their hands to honor the peculiar boy and his artificial body, which did nothing to hide how awkwardly he accepted it.

“Was the chopping onions really necessary?” Professor Meyer groaned as the crowd slowly dispersed, some of the students hanging around Oswin to collect information on the test as well as for good old reassuring conversation. “All those will have to get thrown out now.”

“Oswin can’t cry.” The dean smirked down at his shorter coworker. “The cost of a few onions was worth it to reinforce just how efficiently his body operates - nothing wasted, nothing expelled.”

“Won’t he need to cry sometimes, for his psyche’s sake?” The professor argued, gesturing at Oswin as he spoke. “He’s still a kid for crying out loud, and given his history that’s something that might never change.”

“If you expel water, you need to refill water.” The dean’s face grew more tired in sync with the amount of counterarguments he had to endure. “He would need to cry on a regular basis to exchange the water before it boils against the less temperature-controlled components of his system, and there’s nowhere for it to go without sacrificing something else for space.”

“So what if he has to refill it?” The professor jumped slightly as the car was gently returned to the ground. “Those servos and stability systems are going to wear down eventually. He’ll need to get everything replaced before too long.”

“Not for the next two hundred years.” The dean smiled, crossing his arms as Oswin was escorted away by the chattier of the students. “He’s built better than anything else the college has made, better than anyone could have ever dreamed. As for his psyche, I don’t-”

“Yes?” He held two fingers up to his earpiece for a moment. “Oh, fantastic. Tell them I will be waiting in my office to explain things further.”

“Please tell me that’s not the attorneys again.” The professor groaned, cradling his cheek in one hand for a moment. “The poor kid’s got enough to deal with without those insensitive legal buzzards implying he doesn’t exist, directly to his face.”

“No, thankfully not.” The dean laid a long, withered hand on the shoulder of his colleague. “Two people that haven’t seen Oswin in almost three months… And who I think he’ll greatly appreciate seeing again.”


“Does it feel weird?”

Oswin’s happy smile fell into a flat glare as he turned his completely straight browline towards the student who inquired so impolitely. “No. It’s like taking your arm off and reattaching it, it’s not weird at all.”

“Okay so,” Oswin leaned back, trying not to smile while he held his hands up in a disarming gesture as the entire cluster of students huddled around the monitor gave him suspicious glances. “You plug a controller into the computer, right? Or a keyboard? That tells the computer that there’s an extended peripheral that can send and receive inputs from the CPU. It’s like that.”

“Your arm’s like a keyboard?” One of the students smirked.

“Game’s loaded.” The group of students turned back to the monitor as the title screen appears. “Alright Oswin, you’ve looked at videos of this being pulled off by a machine. It’s said this run can’t be performed by a human, but now’s your chance to prove everyone wrong.”

“Start the timer when you’re ready.”

“Excuse my intrusion.” The door suddenly swung open, and several students rolled their eyes while others threw up their hands in disappointment. “Having fun racking up the school’s electric bill, Oswin?”

“Sure?” Oswin sheepishly scratched the back of his head, bumping the USB cable plugged in at the base of his skull. “I mean, uhh…”

“Mister Meyer, Oswin’s not doing anything wrong.” The student who had addressed Oswin regarding the run he was to perform stood up, addressing the professor directly. “If there’s some issue with what Oswin is trying to perform, I’d be happy to explain the-”

“Goodness gracious, not everything is a battle ground.” The professor wiped his forehead drearily. “You kids can have fun with your video games as long as it doesn’t get in the way of studies. But I do need to deprive you of Oswin’s company for a moment or two.”

“What do you need me to GGJK-” Oswin felt the back of his neck contract as the USB cable was suddenly removed from his head. “‘Safely remove hardware and eject media’ exists for a reason, guys.”

“The Dean wants to see you for a moment, that’s all.” The professor was getting tired of leaning on the doorframe to peek into the room and kept shifting his feet to redistribute his weight displacement. “And the sooner the better, too.”

“I’ll catch back up with you guys later,” Oswin hurriedly hopped out of his seat and strode to the door, following the professor down the hall. “I hope there’s not been any complications with the balancing act I was doing.”

“Hardly.” The professor’s voice had just enough disdain with the aforementioned act that Oswin’s guilty reaction in response was perceivable. Seeing it, he altered his bearing slightly as they walked.

“The Dean said he had a surprise for you.” He folded his hands behind his back, trying not to give Oswin any hints as to what it was. “Unfortunately communication issues made it impossible to arrange this any sooner.”

“Arrange what?” Oswin inquired as the pair entered one of the many elevators in the building. The professor adjusted his glasses in silence, hoping to avoid addressing the question, but to no avail, as Oswin’s glowing blue eyes refused to back down from their inquiry.

“There’s someone he wants you to meet.” The professor sighed, taking his glasses off and cleaning them on his shirt. “I’d like for you to try and restrain yourself, if possible. There’s no telling how the two of them will react to seeing you, especially after such a long time.”

“Seeing me?” The glowing blue eyes blinked in confusion, as Oswin could not comprehend exactly what Professor Meyer was talking about. However, as the elevator doors opened, it became evident that no further elaboration was needed.

Several paces from the elevator stood a man and a woman, quietly dressed, their manner decidedly apprehensive. The man was in his mid thirties, and the woman appeared to be ever so slightly younger than him, both carrying the sort of air expected from those living just between city and countryside. At the sight of them Oswin’s eyes glowed brightly, but he quickly reigned them in, recalling the professor’s words.

“Here you are, Mr. and Mrs. Markoras.” Professor Meyer smiled, stepping forward with Oswin slowly outpacing his stride. His mechanical eyes took in every detail that they could - their faces, the emotion behind their eyes, and as he neared the broad smile which had begun to appear on his face slowly started disappearing when he realized the enthusiasm and joy shining in his eyes was not reflected in theirs.

“Just a moment.” The man said, holding out his hand to halt Oswin’s approach. “You said you had taken several months to verify the identity of Oswin, to ensure it was really him?”

“You can test him, to see if there is anything that he lacks.” The dean folded his arms, his calming manner trying to disarm the pair. “Our experience with young Oswin has left no doubt in my mind as to who he says he is.”

“You did a good job compiling everything you could find, I suppose.” Mr. Markoras mused, fixing his gaze on Oswin again. “Tell me, what was the name of the dog who died when you were five?”

“Francis.” Oswin dutifully replied, trying to hide the emotion he had towards this scrutiny from his own parents. “He lived to be fourteen.”

“And what about the toy you received on your third birthday?”

“The, uh… The red train!” Oswin’s eyes lit up further, and he could not hold back a slight smile. “That thing used to run for eight hours at a time! I remember when uncle Ellis was over, and he tripped on it and tore his rotator cuff, and we had to eat beans for close to six months to cover the bills.”

“I can’t-” The woman choked, turning away abruptly and resting her hand on the man’s shoulder. “Tell me, mister Meyer, how long did it take for you to develop and program this AI so thoroughly?”

“I do resent that, sir.” The professor snorted, stepping forwards with clear offense visible on his fat facial features. “Even if such an AI could be developed, it would be irrelevant to make a copy of Oswin when the real one is standing right here.”

"The real Oswin is dead!" Mrs. Markoras shouted, turning her face back towards the professor, now stained with tears. “I was there, professor! I was here at the college when they declared him dead, I was at the morgue where he was cremated, and I attended his funeral! My son is dead, and you bring up this- this cheap joke months later, all to, what, gaslight me into thinking he is still alive?”

“Mom-” Oswin tried to interject.

“Be quiet!” She hissed, too overwhelmed with emotion to remain calm. “We’ve moved out of Purgatory, out of the entire state, and only accepted your invitation to tell you to your faces that we won’t be accepting any kind of substitute for Oswin!”

“Sirs,” Mr. Markoras placed a hand atop his wife’s. “My wife and I are very much done with this whole ordeal. We have obliged your invitation, and the cheap imitation you tried to pass off as our son. Do not contact us again.” With a hushed word to his wife, the pair departed, walking down the long hallway towards the stairs at the opposite end.

Oswin,” The dean whispered, catching the boy by the arm as he had begun to run after them. “They need time. You cannot force them to change their minds now, not so soon.”

There was a strange click, one that the dean couldn’t immediately place. It was the sound of Oswin’s eyes taking a picture of the departing pair, unwilling to simply let the sight of them disappear from his memory. For all he knew, he would never see either of them again.

“…I wish I could cry.”


003: Tears

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