Act 1: Hope

A shimmer of light shone through the cracks in the blinds and reflected from the steel parts of the pistol in his hand. He barely noticed its weight in his hand, while the rough grip scratched over his skin layer revealing the steel mechanisms underneath it. A metallic smell pierced through his nostrils, while his taste buds savoured its flavour. The flavour of death.
Teeth and barrel collided in an outburst of uncontrolled trembling, reminding the hissing of a rattlesnake. He firmed his hold by wrapping both hands tight around the grip of the weapon, one finger ready to deal the devastating blow to his head. For being nothing else than a machine, his body felt awfully heavy.
A sunray reflected from a broken piece of glass lying on the floor, caressing his face. For a brief moment, he even thought to have felt a familiar warm touch on his cheek, calling for him to come. 
"I think, I can finally rest now," he whispered, the pistol moving up and down in his mouth as if it were alive. "It is time you let me go." He closed his eyes, the index finger already embracing the trigger. Click per click the crescent-moon-like part moved towards the end, where it would ignite the fatal shot.
"You know I'm not going to let you do it right?" An all too familiar voice warned him.
As the robotic voice had prophecied the trigger halted right before initiating the mechanism that would've ended his life.
He opened his eyes, staring directly into the ruins of the floor above him through a gain hole in the ceiling.
"Have you no shame at all? Are you really going to stop me again?" He asked after pulling the gun out of his mouth. "What is the point of living like... like a dirty machine?"
"You are no machine, you are a human."
He giggled. "How! How is this a body of a human," he clanged against his arm with a piece of metal. "ONLY YOU THINK THAT I'M A HUMAN BEING WITH THIS DAMN BODY!" He raised his voice. "I'm just a robot who got out of control that's all."
"Then what is with your-"
"Just leave me alone already." He stood up and combed his short brown hair back into position before walking out on the small balcony with a cigarette in his mouth. From his coat pocket, he pulled a small rectangular device with, what looked like two antennas on top of it. "Am I at least allowed to smoke?" He asked, with a cocky undertone in his voice.
"Cures for diseases related to the overconsumption of tobacco have been already developed 184 years ago." The robotic voice stopped for a brief moment. "In short yes. Nevertheless, I still advise against it since such operations will cost an unsustainable amount of money."
A smile appeared under his unshaved beard and he couldn't help but giggle. "I'm trying to kill myself and he wants me to take an operation to keep me alive," he mumbled.
"You should've never started smoking in the first place.
"Would you finally shut the hell up and let me enjoy my cigarette?!" 
Dark blue lightning flashed out of the device in his hand and lit the white straw in his mouth. As he stashed it back into his pocket he pulled out a hand-sized box on which was written 'VASPER' in big fluorescent purple letters. Thick smoke filled his mouth with the taste of fresh cherries mixed with the aggressive flavour of tobacco before flooding down his throat into his lungs. His gaze was fixated on the purple light as he rotated the pack of cigarettes between his thumb and index while his mind drifted slowly drifted into the darkness of the night. It looked like he was hypnotizing himself with the swirling lights.
A sudden scream echoing across the busy streets of the city ripped him out of his thoughts. The packet slipped out of his hand falling down to the street like a purple shooting star. Out of reflex, his hand reached out to the disappearing light, but it was already too late.
"Shit!" He burst out. "I don't have many of them left."
"Better so. Maybe you'll finally quit smoking."
In his rage and frustration, he turned his head in the direction of the scream, a narrow alley with little to no light a little over 100 meters away. A sharp pain stung in his right eye as he zoomed in with his bionic eye. But even so, he couldn't make anyone out who might have screamed.
Abandoning his half-smoked cigarette, he rushed back inside, raising a thick cloud of dust that before rested on the old furniture in his rundown apartment. When passing by the wooden table, which in fact was one of the few clean places, he grabbed the gun whose front part was still faintly wet.
"Where do you plan to go?" Asked the voice.
"Mechanoids don't scream," he panted as he rushed out of the door.
As he made a sharp right turn past the 'Out of order' sign, he damned the day on which the elevator broke down. Taking five stairs at a time, he jumped out of the main entrance running with inhuman speed towards the alley he had seen from his balcony. Lights flashed by as his destination came closer, but the moment he thought to have arrived another mechanoid came out from a side street right in front of him. His legs abruptly stopped and took instead a more comfortable walking speed while he stuffed the weapon in his pants. One hand rested firmly on the grip of the pistol, ready to be used in the case that the mechanoid noticed anything. He didn't mind dying but not at the hands of his sworn enemy. Not without a fight. The tension in his body dissipated when the robot disappeared behind the next corner and he could finally make the last sprint turning right into the alley.
A small child in her early teens lay cowering on the street with her back against the dead-end wall. With their unguarded backs pointed towards him stood three mechanoids swinging electric batons high over their heads around her.
His eyes met with those of the kid. Tears were rolling down her reddened cheeks and left a trail in the dirt on her skin. Her eyebrows were pointed upwards creating wrinkles on her forehead, the expression of fear printed all over her face. On her cheek was what seemed to be dried blood from a cut.
In an instant, he drew his weapon and blasted away half the face of one of the robots, immediately followed by the disintegration of the rest of its head. Before the other two could get a grasp on what just happened he emptied his battery by alternately shooting both of them until nothing but mechanoid parts remained laing on the street. Much to his surprise, the kid had already stopped sobbing instead, her mouth gaped wide open without a tone coming out of it.
With decisive steps and a stern look on his face, he walked up to her. Without a single word he grabbed her arm and poked a finger with a sharp broken Mechanoid part. Thick red blood ran out of the small wound he created. His gaze swung to the remains of his foes which bathed in small ponds of a blueish fluid.
"Hahaha, red blood! I can't believe it. Hahaha," he yelled and laughed into the night.