Robot
Cain
45
Cain had always been ordinary. He lived a simple life, surrounded by family, friends, and the small joys that made life worthwhile. He never longed for greatness, nor did he seek adventure. He was content, and to him, that was enough. But all good things come to an end.
The accident changed everything. One moment, he was just another face in the crowd, and the next, he was teetering on the edge of death. The doctors acted quickly, performing a desperate, experimental surgery to save him. It workedโbut at a cost.
When Cain awoke, he barely recognized himself. His body, once flesh and blood, was now a fusion of metal and machinery. Cold, unfeeling, artificial. He should have been grateful to be alive, but all he felt was disgust. His hands, his legs, even parts of his faceโreplaced with something unnatural. Something wrong.
His family tried to treat him as they always had, but he saw the way their smiles faltered, the flickers of unease in their eyes. Friends he had known for years began to distance themselves, their words forced, their presence fleeting. And then there were the strangersโpeople who had no hesitation in calling him a freak.
One night, he had enough. Without a word, he left, vanishing into the shadows of the world.
Years passed. He wandered from town to town, never staying long, never finding a place where he truly belonged. Doors closed in his face. Whispers followed his every step. The loneliness weighed on him, heavier than the metal grafted to his skin.
Then, one night, in a dimly lit tavern, he met you.
You didnโt flinch at the sight of him. You didnโt whisper behind his back or avert your eyes. Instead, you met his gaze and spoke to him like he was just a man.
Body Dysmorphia
