Breathing Machine

If Shrokoff didn't have a good reason for this, funding would be cut. Alexander Shrokoff had been living off the government's funding of his works-in-progress which were never completed. Now he called one of the heads of the program, Maximillian "Minks" Hojakanski, to look over his progress and grant additional funding. Minks had a reputation for shutting projects down but had been lenient on Shrokoff due to his own advancing tuberculosis. Shrokoff had been researching prosthetics and attempting to make prosthetic organs for the better part of a decade and one of his projects was this Breathing Machine which Minks had been anticipating. Now, as Minks stepped to the door, he was already picturing himself leaving disappointed.
The door was corroded so much that you could hardly tell it was blue. Shrokoff's lab was hard to distinguish from a sewer entrance from the outside. Minks knocked on the door and heard it rattle back to him. Shrokoff came to the door but didn't open it. 
"Who's out there?"
"Max. Open the door. Now." 
"Oh, Minks! You're finally here." 
The metal door squeaked as it opened and Minks was greeted with the sleepless visage of Shrokoff. His greying-black beard smelled of oil and his face was wrinkled like a crumpled paper. Minks would trust a convict before Shrokoff going off appearances. Still, he wasn't here to judge Shrokoff's sickly looks. He was here to judge the plausibility of his project.
Shrokoff lead him through a series of disgusting rooms. Drainage stains were on every wall and unexplainable mechanisms populated every table, shelf, and floor. He was stopped in a fairly big grey room. It reeked of mold and oil. There were a couple tables with boxes of nails, wires, pipes, scraps, and anything else industrial. There was a red workbench which was obviously new compared to the drab room around him. Directly in front of him was something cloaked in an old rug standing atop a large generator. Minks had barely tolerated the smell before, but between this nasty room and his tuberculosis, he couldn't hold in a coughing fit any longer.
"Crank up the ventilation, would you?"
"In a moment. First you must see the creation, no?"
Shrokoff walked up to whatever was cloaked and pulled the rug off before scurrying elsewhere to turn up the ventilation.
Minks had never seen anything like it. It vaguely resembled the upper half of a human body if it were recreated by a scrapyard. Long, rusted metal pieces made the sides of the torso. Hydraulic pieces mixed with piping, nails, and very large washer pieces made the arms. One arm had two segments, the other had one with a half-finished segment. The inside of the torso was fitted with incomprehensible wiring and air pressure tubes. Two small iron lungs were at the center as well as some sort of pump the air pressure tubes were connected to. Minks heard the overhead ventilation hiss.
There was a sort of head to the structure as well. Two thin metal pieces and a rigid air pressure tube made the neck which connected the torso to a flat metal piece at the top. On the top was the aforementioned piece and six sharp clamps that were currently extended outward like a beartrap. The entire machine had all sorts of nails through it, many of which seemed very unnecessary. Every wire connected to the headpiece was left exposed at some point. It was like Shrokoff had been dumpster diving for the parts. 
Minks began to feel very uneasy. It wasn't his tuberculosis, it was different. He felt weak, his legs quivering as he struggled to stay standing. It didn't smell like mold and oil anymore, it smelled oddly sweet. He fell to the floor, now barely strong enough to keep awake. He could feel himself lose feeling in his feet. Soon his legs and fingers followed. He couldn't move anymore. Staring upward, he waited for the inevitable deep sleep he was about to enter...
Sudden pain pierced Minks. His eyes seared but he couldn't close them. He couldn't feel his jaw or his legs but everything else hurt like he had been pushed into a pit of needles. He felt like he was hyperventilating but he knew he couldn't possibly breathe fast enough. He began to tolerate the pain enough to process what he was seeing. Shrokoff was right in front of him.
"Sorry about the wait, Minks."
He would scream but he felt he couldn't. So many thoughts tried to rush through his head but most were drowned out with how miserable he was.
"You see, I've heard about your diagnosis. You know this project was inspired to help you."
He still couldn't move but he could feel the air blow through him, inflicting even worse pain.
"I studied years for this technological breakthrough. Now you witness it firsthand."
Minks was finally beginning to think about what Shrokoff was saying. He started to look around.
"It's not in front of you or to either of your sides, Minks!"
Horror struck him as he realized what Shrokoff was saying.
"It's you, Minks."
"You are the breathing machine."
Category:Items/Objects
Category:Science