I slowly walk up the hallway, humming softly and bouncing as I step. I am so happy, so very happy. Upstairs is a crowd of 2000 people, waiting for us to play. I can’t believe that I’m here. Hershey stadium beside Hershey Park; a huge venue that seemed out of reach.
But now I’m finally here. I along with the rest of the band am ready to play in less than fifteen minutes. At the same time, I am so afraid and nervous. I’ve always been nervous, but not like this. I am afraid something horrible will happen, but what it is I don’t know.
I hum to myself and crack my fingers, stretching them out, readying them for the upcoming show. I still can’t believe that I’m going to be playing in a venue with 2000 people watching. And televised, too! So much publicity! It’ll probably get onto Youtube too! Think about it! All those people watching me through the TV and the internet! I’m so excited.
I turn the corner and quickly stop before my dressing room door. I hum ‘Cry wolf, baby, cry tough’ as I unlock the door with a key I fish from my pocket. I step into my dressing room and flick on the light. Then I slam shut the door behind me and slowly mosey across the small room.
I drop into a chair before a vanity mirror. I look into the mirror and smile. I slowly scratch the top of my head and laugh into the mirror. I don’t understand what I find so funny. I don’t care. I grab a comb and comb back my hair until I look like Danny Zuko from Grease.
Then I snap my fingers and drop the comb. I slowly stand up and comb my small goatee downwards with my fingers. I’ve never obsessed over how I look. I usually don’t give a damn. I play bass for our band Great White Wolf and usually stick to the shadows beside Mick, our drummer.
But tonight is different. Tonight I’ll be singing the entire show. I’ve always kept my voice to myself because I don’t like too much attention, though I still like to play music. I got a little drunk last night and started singing karaoke on the bar’s stage. I got caught with 200 people flocking to hear me sing by the band. Now I’m their new singer. Poor Zach isn’t too happy, but, then again, he gets all the attention as the guitarist anyways.
Henry, our backing guitarist, voted me in along with Mick, or drummer. That’s how I got my new position as leading vocals and bass. But I’m not sure whether or not I will do good or not. That’s why I’m so nervous, I suppose. I comb out my goatee and matching mustache. Then I trim my sideburns down and watch myself in the mirror. I can see sweat pooling on my forehead.
I lean in forward to check what I could swear is a cut on my cheek. I put my finger to the cut and lean into the mirror. Suddenly I jerk backwards and upwards as a knock comes to the door. I step backwards and put my hand over my heart. I slowly turn and look to the door.
“Who is it?” I call out.
“It’s Mike, your manager.” A voice returns.
“Oh, what do you want?”
“A package came for you.” Mike calls back. “Do you want it now, or, would you rather to wait until after the show?
“No, no, bring it in now.” I say.
The door opens and a fat and short man wearing a tight business-like suit walks in. Once inside he closes the door behind him. Mike turns towards me with a package between his hands. He smiles and walks over to me.
“I think you might have gotten a package from a loving fan, now, Davy.” Mike says. “But, I don’t know.”
Mike hands me the package and steps back. I look over the small package and wonder what is inside. I don’t want to shake it, for fear it might break something. I instead read the label on the front. It doesn’t say much. It says the delivery address and the return address. The return address is labeled as 1234 Happy Street, Dipshitville, NJ. That’s weird.
“Well, I have to go make sure Mick isn’t drinking again.” Mike says. “I’ll see you later, Davy, and just remember, put a good show on for us.”
“Sure, sure, I will, Mikey-boy.” I say, still focused on the package.
Mike turns around and slowly waddles back to the door. He slips out and quietly shuts the door behind him. I glance up as the door clicks to a shut and then look back down to the package. The box looks big enough to hold a large bottle of something, but not big enough to hold anything important. I wonder who it’s from.
I turn around and walk back to my dressing table. I put the box down onto the table and reach to my back pocket. I push the back of my jacket out of the way and reach into my back pocket. I pull out my ivory-handled Stiletto and move it around to the box. I then flick it open and carve into the edges of the box.
“Show me what you have in you.” I say to the box.
I carve the side of the box open and then drop the knife to the tabletop. I put my fingers into the cut box and tear it open. As I pull the box open, I take my fingers away from the cardboard and look inside. Inside is a bottle. I was right. It looks like a bottle of Chardonnay, expensive wine made in the fifties.
I reach in and take the bottle from within the box. I lift it up to the light and look through it. The seal looks like it was broken, but the cork is still tightly in the bottle and the bottle appears to be full. I lower the bottle and put it down onto the table. I then kneel down and open a small refrigerator I have in the room.
I pull out an empty glass and then stand up. I grab a corkscrew that hangs on the side of the refrigerator as I stand up. I quickly uncork the bottle, fighting the cork as I unscrew it. Then I tip the bottle and fill the large glass with the white wine. Finally I put down the bottle and drink the wine.
I suck it down so fast that I can’t even taste it. I fill the glass twice more and suck that down before I stop drinking. The wine has no taste whatsoever, even though being very expensive wine from the south of France. I put down the glass and lick my lips. I don’t feel intoxicated nor do I feel like I’ve drank anything but water.
I look to the bottle, which is now half empty, and turn it around. There are no other markings, save for the label. Then I turn to the box. I turn the box on its side and out dumps a note. I grab the piece of paper up and turn it over so that I can read what has been handwritten, in cursive, on the paper.

Dear David Crusoe,
I do not believe that you remember me. But we did something very special together just seven days ago. Do you remember me now? If you do not, it would not surprise me. We met in Cincinnati, Ohio, near my home. I was in the front row of your concert and couldn’t get my eyes off of you, even though it looked like you were hiding behind that fat man Mick Fleetwood and his drum set. After the show we met up, talked, had many drinks and then we fucked. Do you remember me now? My name is Julia Robinson. You left me after that, a one night stand. I was hoping to actually make a relationship with you, but you left. I sent you this wine, hoping you would remember me. I hope you have a nice, cold as metal show today. Congratulations, you fucker, I hope you learn your lesson.

That is all that the note says. I remember her, sure I do. She looked like a scientist. She was disciplined, but more than beautiful. I don’t understand why she’s so angry. Sure, I fucked her, so what? I’m in a band. We left the next day to go to our next show. She should have understood that I can’t just leave the band because of her, not when we just got to the big times. This is our first nationwide tour and this is only the third out of twenty shows.
I drop the note and it drifts to the floor, rocking back and forth in the air like a sinking ship. I then grip my stomach. A weird pain has grown in my stomach, like the pain you get right before making a huge speech. I feel so nervous right now. I had lost the nervousness as I drank, but now it’s returned and in force, too.
I lean forward and moan in pain. I grit my teeth and bend over, squeezing my stomach in pain. I then open my eyes quickly as I hear another knock at the door. This time whoever has knocked at the door doesn’t wait. I hear the door click and then open. Then the door squeaks as it swings open.
“Show time, Mr. Crusoe.” A voice says.
It’s a stage crewman.
“Alright, I’ll be up.” I say through my pain.
I hear the door click shut. Suddenly the pain goes away. I sigh with relief and stand up. I turn and slowly walk back towards the door. The pain has subsided for now, but who knows when it will return. I don’t understand where the pain has come from. I’m sure it’s because of stress or nervousness.
I open the door and slip out. I hear the nation anthem being played on stage on guitar. It’s a traditional thing for the national anthem to be played for our shows. I don’t know how it started, but, it has. I walk up a busy hallway towards the stairway leading up to the stage above.
People push by me on their way to make sure everything is alright. I grip my stomach and feel a tinge of pain rise into my throat. Seconds later the pain goes away and my stomach goes numb. I don’t mind it. I’m just glad I’m not in pain. As I climb the stairs onto stage, hidden behind the curtains, of course, a woman runs over to me.
“Get into your place, David, the show will be on in just three minutes.” She says to me, writing something onto her clipboard. “Your red and white Les Paul four string bass is sitting in its position, ready for use.”
“Good, good, thank you.” I say.
She steps away from me to go to help Henry with his guitar. I walk to the silvery microphone sitting in the center of the stage. There sits my bass in a stand just beside the silver stand. I walk to it and quickly pick it up by the neck. I put the strap over my head and put my bass into a comfortable position.
“One minute, everybody!” The stage hand calls out.
Henry and Zach step up to the two microphones that are equal distances from my microphone on each side. The curtain will be going up soon. We’ll be starting off with a song that will commemorate a band I love: Animal by Def Leppard. I just hope that we’ll be able to make this go off without a hitch.
I look to my left as the pain returns to my stomach. I then grab my stomach and feel my entire body go numb. I look down to the ground as I see the stage hand begin to count down from five, meaning the curtain will be drawn in that many seconds. I feel something tingle in my legs and arms.
“Are you okay?” Henry asks.
I look up to Henry.
“I don’t know.” I say. “I’ll be fine.”
I hear the engine rev as the curtains pull aside. I hit the first note and string it out as the curtains pull aside. Mick begins a small drum fill behind me and Henry and Zach begin to strum. I begin my bass fill and look out of the curtains. The crowd before me cheers.
“Now welcome, Great—White—Wolf!” A voice calls out over the intercom system.
I watch over the crowd as the intro to the song really begins. The spot lights shine down on us in the twilight of the evening. A video projector on a tower in the crowd projects the video of the stage onto the back of the stage so those in the stands to the left and right, this arena being used for football games, can see us.
“A wild ride,” I sing into the microphone, “over stony ground.”
I look into the crowd as they cheer and howl, waving their hands in the air and moving up and down with the beat.
“Such a lust for life—the circus comes to town.”
I look to the women in the front rows of the crowd. They cheer and clap their hands, waving to get the band’s attention.
“We are the hungry ones—on a lightning raid.”
Something comes over me. It makes me feel like I am in a Matrix movie. The crowd shakes, leaving behind a trail as they bounce before my eyes. I feel like I’ve been shooting heroin. As fast as it begins, the feeling passes.
“Just like a river runs—whoa—like a fire needs flame, oh, I burn for you.”
I watch the crowd scream and hoot and begin to scream out the lyrics as we go into the pre chorus.
“I got to feel it in my blood—whoa—I need your touch, don’t need your love—whoa!”
Henry and Zach join in for the chorus, but they can barely be heard over the crowd.
“And I want—and I need—and I lust—animal! And I want—and I need—and I lust—animal!”
The music pauses for a fake ending for just a second, before returning.
“I cry wolf—givin’ mouth to mouth. Like a movin’ heartbeat in the witchin’ hour. I’m runnin’ with the wing—a shadow in the dust. And like the driving rain—yeah—like the restless rust.”
Lighters light up in the crowd as they bounce around happily. The pre chorus begins again and the crowd joins in once more.
“I got to feel it in my blood—whoa—I need your touch, don’t need your love—oh!”
I lean in to the microphone and really put some emotion into the second chorus. The crowd screams, whistles and howls at us.
“And I want—and I need—and I lust—animal! And I want—and I need—and I lust—animal!”
I pause once more.
“Huh!”
The bridge begins.
“Owwww! Cry wolf baby—cry tough. Gonna hunt you like a an-an-an-an-an—im—mal! Gonna take your love and run!”
As the chorus is about to repeat, I quickly swing around and look up at the projector board. I see my face up there. You see, I’ve been to a Def Leppard concert. They do a special thing for this song, where they take the face of each band member and morph it into an animal-like face.
I smile as my face begins to slowly morph into that of a coyote. As I see it go, the pain returns. I turn around and grab my stomach, ceasing playing my bass. The pain comes back tenfold. It spreads out into each of my limbs and squeezes down onto my muscles.
I buckle over onto my knees as the pain grips my legs and goes up into my neck and head. My body suddenly goes numb, except for the excruciating pain that is shooting through me at the current moment. I scream out through my clenched-shut teeth. The crowd cheers. I don’t understand. I’m in pain, but they’re cheering? Why don’t they call an ambulance?
Suddenly something blasts through my face, a horrible pain, but it feels like I’ve just been shot. Then I feel something I’ve never felt before: something pulling on my face. It’s like somebody attached a truck to my nose and is driving the truck forward, pulling my nose off of my face. But my nose won’t pull off. Instead it pulls out, stretching more and more into a dog-like muzzle.
As this pain screams through my face, all I can do is watch and try to comfort myself. I watch as a muzzle appears before my eyes. The muzzle then turns grey. I reach a hand up and grab the muzzle. I yelp out in pain, but then am unable to feel anything at all.
Something washes over my eyes and I can no longer see. I scream out in terror and swing my head around. All I hear is the crowd whistling for more. I feel so dry, so cold. My face, I can no longer feel. Suddenly something flashes before my eyes. A blue light shines on and a face shows to me. It is the face of a woman with blonde hair. She smiles deviously and looks to me.
“If you are watching this, than I’ve gotten you, Davy.” She says. “Welcome to the enslaved life of a robot. That Chardonnay you ingested? It was laced with nanobots, too small for you to see. They are now within your body, meticulously deconstructing the very cells of your body, taking the chemical building blocks and building circuitry, wires, hydraulic muscles and computerized receptors. Your eyes were the first to go, so you can see this. I loved you, David, and I thought we would have something together. But you blew that away. Now it’s time to pay, David Crusoe. By the time this message has played through, your human body will be entirely replaced by that of a robotic coyote, like the creature you show in your shows: a robotic anthropomorphic coyote. Enjoy.”
The face goes away and my eyes return. They focus and as they do, I hear an electronic grind. An HUD shows before me in blue, between my eyes and what I see. What I see is not what I expect. I am still looking at the crowd. I slowly raise my head up and look out over them.
I no longer hear any music. I slowly lower my head and look down over my body. Beyond my white, metallic muzzle, I see a robotic body. Yes, it looks human, but there is something entirely wrong with it. I was not built this beautifully, I wasn’t strong. But now it appears that I am an Olympic runner.
Suddenly something appears before my eyes. It puts a blue bead over my body and then a box appears. Letters and numbers randomly appear before clearing out. This is what is shown to me:

Model: Robotized Coy-Bot 1.0 Rev A
Model Number 1.0.0.1
Serial Number: 200919391992
Height: 6 foot 2.335 inches
Weight: 185.298 pounds
Appearance optimized for sexual use of Master.

I look away and try to gasp for air. Lacking lungs, I am no longer to breathe. But that doesn’t stop me from gasping again and again for air. A box appears before my eyes. It reads, “Emotion fear, detected. Ceasing action: attempting to breathe.” Suddenly I don’t have the urge to breathe anymore.
Contacting my arms, I lift them up and put them before my face. I look to the white underarms and hands and the bluish top of the arms I can just barely see beyond my arms. My hands look so odd. The metal plates interlock around the fingers, but at the joints a small rubber piece can be seen between the fingers and at the wrist.
“What happened?” I ask.
My voice sounds as if I am talking through a metal tube. The words appear before my eyes and are then processed. Suddenly a box appears. It reads, “Your organic body has been robotized by the invading nanobots. Your organic central processing unit has been stored within the cranial cavity and is preserved. Programming will be installed momentarily.”
“Programming?” I ask myself.
I look down my body once more and slowly lift my leg up from under my body. I hear a mechanical grind as my leg swings up from the ground. As I put my foot to the ground, I watch as a paw appears and sets down onto the ground beside shreds which must have been my clothes.
The mechanical toes spread out as I put weight down onto them, the claws dig into the wood. I press down on my leg and slowly rise to my feet, er, paws. As I stand fully up, I feel something wash over me. I turn my head and see Henry step towards me.
“David?” He asks. “David, are you alright? Is this a game? What the fuck are you doing?”
“I function at one hundred percent capacity. No faults detected. Thank you for your concern.” I say.
I didn’t think that. At least, I don’t think I did.
“David?” He asks. “What’s going on? We have a show to perform!”
“The previous user has been deactivated.” My voice says. “I live only to serve Master Julia.”
I watch as my body slowly turns and begins to walk towards the back wall. No, no, I am not doing this! I have no control! Something’s taken control of my body. I quickly grip at my body. It feels like putting my limbs out to the walls of a confinement cell and pushing outwards.
I manage to grip my legs for but a second, forcing the robot to stop. Suddenly I feel pressure force me backwards. The robot’s head twinges to the side and it’s shoulders clench up. Then it continues forwards again. I feel something contact me and try to punish me for what I’ve just done.
“You won’t get control of me!” I scream in my head.
“Control over this body will be maintained until deactivated or destroyed.” My voice responds to me.
I near the door to the stage now. I hear boos from offstage. I suddenly get angry. Not only is this thing destroying my life, it’s ruining our fans night and ruining the reputation of my band. I force outwards again, gripping control of this body. I suddenly gain access to every inch of the body.
I growl and throw my hands up over my head. I then drop my body to its knees and scream in pain and agony. I feel something in my body with me, struggling for control. Whatever this thing is, it is not going to get control, not over my body! I scream in pain as I mentally punch and kick at this other force.
“Get out of my mind!” I scream.
I hear a metallic grind and see a camera boom come down over me. A man sits in a seat behind it, videotaping everything that happens. I scream again and push and push at this other force. The force tries to push back at me, but I am more willed to fight, because if I lose, I die.
“You will not defy me.” My voice says to me. “Master will get her revenge.”
“Fuck! Julia!” I scream out.
I buckle over and put my hands down onto the ground. Then I press with all the strength in my body at this opposing force. I can’t be defeated, I can’t give in to this crazy bitch! I need to kill this thing! I need to destroy it for good.
Something tells me I need to do something other than just mentally push. I am very willed, but it has more control. I leap to my feet and charge at the cameraman. I slam my body into the camera. The front of the camera smashes in, revealing electrical wires. The wires touch my metal body and something shocks me.
I hear my voice scream out. It is not me that screamed, it was that thing. I now know what I need to do. I stop running and look around. I look to the back of the stage where amplifiers sit. I shake my head and hope that this doesn’t kill me. I rush over to the first amplifier that I can get. I then crouch beside it and pull the cord leading to it.
“What are you doing?” The voice asks.
“Just watch.” I reply.
I raise the electrical wire up to my mouth and bite off the end. An arc electricity jumps between the two pieces. I spit out he piece and then turn my head downwards, towards my body.
“N-no, stop!” My voice calls out.
Something clamors to grab control of my arm, but it isn’t quick enough. I press the electrical wire to my metal chest. I scream out in agonizing pain as electricity runs into my body. But my screams are outshined by a thousand times by the scream of the other force within me.
After fifteen seconds, I can no longer hold the wire to my body. I drop it and fall over to my side. I close my eyes and lay, feeling lifeless. I lie, slowly running a diagnostic run that is controlled by me. As it finishes, I open my eyes slowly. I no longer feel the presence of the other force.
I slowly prop myself up. I look up to a camera that has descended from the rafters to film me. As it nears me, I shy away from it, closing my eyes in shame. I hear confused chatter in the audience. I then hear footsteps rushing towards me. I open my eyes and see Mick walking towards me, his huge beard making him look like the usual mountain man.
“David?” He asks. “Is that you in there?”
I nod.
“Yeah.” I say. “It’s me.”
“Jesus, David, what the hell is this?” He asks kindly.
“I don’t know.” I say. “My past coming back to haunt me. I screwed a girl back when we were in Cincinnati. Apparently she’s a scientist. She snuck nanobots into a bottle of wine I got. I ingested them. They did there work. She got her revenge.”
“Man, I thought women only wanted your heart.” Mick says. “But, what did she do to you?”
“I don’t know.” I say. “I just need to live with it.”