[ WP ] You get a deep cut for the first time in your life , instead of bone or muscle , you see wires .

Awesome prompt! I usually find prompts boring but this one was very interesting and had a lot of potential, so thankyou for posting this. 
 
 One disclaimer I wrote this from my phone. I proofread very carefully but I always miss something so do n't kill me guys, autocorrect sucks. Also words like dont and didnt where there should be an apostrophe dont always have an apostrophe because as I said, auto correct on my phone is literally braindead. 
 
 End of my disclaimer, the story's below, thanks for reading btw, I hope you enjoy! 
 
 Thoughts raced through my mind with the speed of a concord jet as I contemplated how I was still alive. The fall must have been at least ten stories, and I could n't feel anything from the waist down. The panic of a man crippled racked my brain. If I survived, would I be confined to a wheelchair for the rest of my life? Would I ever be able to make love to my wife again? Would I be a broken handicap, scootering about in a chair, unable to use the bathroom without aid, unable to walk or enjoy the out doors? Would I be able to work or drive my old dodge challenger or mow my lawn or walk my dog? Would I have to use one of those vans with the ramps? Would I need to go on disability? What would my life look like from the seat of a chair? That was assuming I would even survive long enough to see rescue. My life was no certain prospect. Even though my heart still pumped, my body bled from just about everywhere it could. My nose and ears ran with crimson and I could taste iron in my throat, and from my abdomen raged a burning pain from what I could only assume were broken ribs. Even though I had survived the fall, my injuries could still kill me, and even if they did n't, the elements, time and wild animals could. 
 
 As I lay at the base of the cliff from which I had fallen, unable to look at my mangled legs out of fear, a loud SNAP came from beneath my waist, followed by a series of mechanical creaks accompanied by what could only be described as the noise of small electric motors. 
 
 `` I must be hallucinating, my brain must be hemorrhaging'' I thought to myself, my panic intensifying with every moment, my lungs expanding and contracting at rapid pace as I hyperventilated in shock and confusion. My predicament impacted me more with each moment as thoughts of a dying man rushed through my synapses. The faces of my children, clear as the sky above, appeared to me, their smiles and the sounds of their laughter filling my heart with sorrow as I damned myself, convinced that I would never see them again. 
 
 As my vision turned blotty from hypoxia, panic and indescribable pain, I turned my eyes down to my legs, my expectation one of blood and jutted bone, but what my eyes landed upon only furthered my desent into panic as I finally slipped into the easing embrace of unconsciousness. 
 
 By the time I awoke the night was dark, daylight long since faded. The state park I had been climbing in was miles from civilization and all that provided light was the crescent moon and gleaming stars which dotted the clear sky. What glistened from above was beautiful, but I had little appreciation for the esoteric view I enjoyed as the weight of my situation collapsed upon me once more, filling my heart with darkness and pain. 
 
 For a few moments I hesitated to look down at my legs, but I needed to know. What was it I had seen when I had fallen? Was it some sick hallucination, or could it be true, and if so, how could it possibly be? 
 
 After gathering the courage to do so, my eyes turned downward once more, this time prepared for whatever they would see, and in the moonlight I could make them out. My legs, ripped and ruined, were that of a machine, the bone replaced by steel, the muscle replaced by pistons and hydraulics, the nerves replaced by wire. Before panic set in once more I composed myself, and using my arms I propped myself into a sitting position, turning analytical eyes towards my bionic legs, trying desperately to figure out what was going on, and what I was and how this could be possible. 
 
 As I ran eyes and hands over my metal legs with morbid curiosity, a set of voices came from the underbrush to my left. Perhaps they were hikers who had stayed out too late, or better yet a park ranger. Someone, anyone, who could help me reach civilization and a hospital to bandage my bleeding head and set my broken ribs. I knew I would face tough questions, but it did n't matter, my desperation overpowered my fear of judgement and I called out to the people in the dark, yelling for help, my voice hoarse and weak. 
 
 For a moment the voices subsided, and I cursed myself once more. Had my mind played tricks on me? Had blood loss and dehydration caused me to hear what was n't. Before I could convince myself that such was the case, a group of five men emerged from the underbrush. They approached me slowly, their silhouettes obscured by darkness, their arms outstretched, holding automatic rifles. One by one the men activated laser sights on their weapons, grouping them over my chest, causing my heart to skip with fear. 
 
 The five men advanced towards me in tight confident strides, stopping several paces in front of where I sat to a raised fist given by the lead man in the center. The apparent leader of the five lowered his weapon, slinging it over his back, stepping towards me with menace in his gait, signaling his other men to fan out in a semi circle around me, each one careful to maintain their aim upon the center of my mass as they took their positions. 
 
 `` You dont know me, but we have history Sigma'' said the lead man, stepping in close and kneeling in front of me, his scarred and rough face now visible to me in the low light of the moon. 
 
 `` Who.... who are you?'' I asked weakly, my words cracking with dehydration, my mind racing, wondering why the man had called me by greek designation. 
 
 `` I'm Omega, these boys with me are Delta, Gamma, Theta and Omicron. Do n't be worried, we wont hurt you unless you give us a reason'' he said, his words low and gruff, violent intent bubbling under the surface of his statement. 
 
 `` Look man, I need a doctor, please just get me a doctor'' I said, my voice pleeding and pathetic. 
 
 `` Doc at the farm will have you patched quick'' said Omega. 
 
 `` The fuck is the farm'' I asked, my words short with annoyance at the coyness of the man. 
 
 `` Look down at them legs and tell me you're a just a family man from Texas'' said Omega amused, his men laughing at the sarcastic quip. 
 
 `` What am I?'' I asked meekly, my curiosity overpowering my desire to curse the man for his obscure words. 
 
 `` You're one of us, and you've been off the grid for too long'' said Omega in reply. 
 
 `` You.... you're like me?'' I muttered, the worry and confusion thick in my tone. 
 
 `` He really do n't remember shit'' chuckled one of the four flanking Omega, his words condescending and dry. 
 
 `` Enough talking'' muttered the lead man as he reached into one of the small equipment bags on his kevlar vest, withdrawing a large syringe filled with clear liquid, pushing out a small amount to clear the needle before bringing it to my neck. 
 
 As it pierced my skin, two words echoed through my mind from deep within my subconcious. As strong as a commandment the phrase came to me, and my body railed with energy, activating the servos which governed my robotic body. 
 
 `` Never again'' I murmered, echoing the thought, grabbing the hand of Omega with crushing vice grip, his eyes widening in shock at my resistance. 
 
 My world went black once more, yet I was not asleep. As if in a dream I watched myself, looking on in amazement. In my haze I am limber and agile, my strikes pointed and lethal, my strength superhuman, ripping arm from socket, punching holes through kevlar vests, breaking the barrels of rifles with disarming strikes, and casting aside the five men with ease. My violence is pointed and driven, expertly enacted. In my rage I am a god of war, my lethality beyond reproach, my technique masterful and my results efficient and brutal. As the last man falls to the ground I snap back into reality like a whip coming to rest after contracting. 
 
 For a moment I felt surreal, as if nothing was material, and then I fell back into my body like stone into still lake. My stunned eyes turned to the broken bodies of the cyborg soldiers cast around me. Two lay dead, their heads smashed with rock and pierced with bullet. The other three lay in shambles, their limbs ripped from place, their bodies broken, their eyes defeated and enraged. My shock only deepened as I peered down to my once broken legs with the realization that, somehow, my body was able to heal itself despite it's metallurgic constitution. I turned my gaze from my still healing legs to my bloody and oil slick hands, struggling to come to terms with what I was and what I am. 
 
 `` I am death itself, I am a weapon, I am the reaper, I am Sigma'' 
 
 The thoughts hit me like bricks to the temple, but even then I knew my violence was righteous, I knew not why, but I knew none the less, my violence was righteous, my rage justified, my motivations pure. 
 
 `` We'll find you fucker, we always get the runners'' cursed Omega, his body torn yet still living, his words rough and angry, yet impotent from his place among the dirt. 
 
 `` Not this one'' I replied, my tone low and violent, the words shaking with adrenaline as I turned from the gritty scene, sprinting into the underbrush with the speed of a gazelle, determined to return home, ready to protect myself and my family from whatever would come next.
