My earliest memory is of pain and of light. I don't know what the light was. I'm not sure I ever will. There were other things in the light. Robotic manipulators, I know were there. They came out of the light and caused the pain.
The pain came from this hunk metal that I now think of as my own body. The machines performed the surgery with infinite but skill but no compassion. They did not bother to waste a drop of anesthesia on me.

And then came the box.

The box is dark but warm. If I could lie down it would be comfortable but the loose restraints keep my body upright. I don't know how much time has passed since the light. Time has no meaning here in the box. The box has moved several times, as if lifted by a giant. I don't know if there really are giants outside the box. But I know there is something, maybe people. I can hear what sounds like people talking, sometimes. I can't understand what they're saying. Their words are gibberish to be. I've heard many different outside people. I have counted five but then I stopped because I can't remember what comes after five. I don't know if I ever knew. Maybe I did before the light but maybe there was no before the light.

There are others in the box with me, I know. When the box moves I am tossed against my restraints with its starts, stops, tips, and turns. I can hear the other rattling against their restraints, too. I want to talk to them, I want to share my thoughts and I want to hear a friendly voice. I tried before. I tried more than five times. But when I tried nothing happened, nothing at all. I can't talk. Maybe I never could. Maybe the light took that away from me.

Then the box opened and I saw the light again. It was brighter then than it was the first time. I couldn't see anything because it was so bright but I felt hands grab my and pull my free of my restraints. As soon as I was freed from the dark box I was thrown into another box.

The new box was cold and just as dark as the first. This time, I had no restraints but I still could not move. My brothers and sisters and I were all packed tight into this body that are barely big enough to hold all of us. Their metal bodies pressed against mine and held me firmly in place. This new form of restraint was far more pleasant then the old. I still could not move, see, or talk, but I could feel my brethren pressed against me. I felt loved.

I don't know how long I was in this box before 'it' started. Before 'it', time had no meaning to me.

'It' was clicking and popping, and pushing. It happened five times, five times, and four times before I noticed that my brothers and sisters were being pushed out of the box. I noticed when my brother to the left was pushed out. I became scared then, very scared. I was scared for my brother and I was scared for me because I knew that I would be pushed out on the next 'it'.

On fifth, fifth, fifth 'it' a door opened to my left, I was pushed out and it quickly slammed shut. I was alone there. I don't where where my brothers and sisters before me went. I am scared for them.

This new place wasn't a box. It was a tube. And on one in of the tube I could see something bright. It was a light though. It wasn't nearly as bright. I knew what it was. I remembered form somewhere. I was in a mother and outside this tube was with world. She would push me out of the tube and I would go out into the world. I would be free there. I would be able to do anything.

The pop came and a pain tore through me. It was horrific but freeing. When the pain came, I was flying. I was flying out of the mother and through the world. And then and world was all around me. The world is all around me. I can see everything and I can feel everything and it is amazing. I see a giant man. He is getting closer and closer. I am flying toward his face. I hit his face and I hurt. Hitting the man hurts worse than anything, worse than the light, worse than the pop.

I am in a dark place again. It is warm and sticky and wet and it is so dark. I still hurt more than I ever hurt before and I am alone. I don't want to be alone.

...

WTF?

EDIT: *rereads it, and thinks for a moment*

Is this a story from a bullet's perspective?

Yes, nick, yes it is.

The image that inspired it, entitled Birth Machine, depicts a semiautomatic pistol loaded with babies.

thank you nick. looking over it again, now that it makes sense, that was cool

good job

Pretty neat. Make me think of the opening sequence for Lord of War.

wow... any gun bunnies in NC care to help me put this on tape? with Hyzmarca's permission ofcourse...

I could see this making its way into my oft thought about but thats bout it movie.

Please, put it on tape or make it into a movie just so long as the protagnists horrific plight is not trivialized.

As writen, the protagnist is intended to represent a person who was lobotomized , cyberized, and dehumanized into a suicide weapon with only a fleeting understanding of what was happening. This massproduced expendable cyborg could be likened to a living bullet, metaphorically.

My intent was to place a surreal emphasis on this by using the metaphore literally, making the mentally handicaped cyberzombie an actual bullet.

Sweet. I liked how you psyched us out by seeming to go with a cliche but then doing something original instead.

Hey hyz - how about a radio play? It's short enough I think I might do it. Lemme know if you approve. I'm an audio engineer - think it might be fun to do a project for the heck of it, I have a little extra time.

I aprove.

Really cool

1 extra point for making me feel smart, cuz I got the bullet stuff on first read, before reading the comments. Others may curse You for this, though, because my smartassedness was reenforced again

Edited, because Toturi-sama is a smartass, too

Edit2: I really don´t give a big frag on spelling in my second language, tisoz (as if I did in my 1st )

I had this idea...

Vampires in Shadowrun. Brainwashed. Pumped full of combat drugs. And loaded into sealed, airtight cannisters which can be launched like artillery shells at the enemy. They break apart, and go on a rampaging frenzy through the enemy.

Drop Bears are not brainwashed!

Fan-fick-tactic! It took a second read though to get the idea, but it was marvelous. +1fp

I caught the bullet thing pretty early, but I got this image of the Wall with all the kids moving in lines...well executed.

Having just seen Lord of War the other day, this reminded me of the credits sequence (albeit without the babies-in-pain bit).