The "A.I.: Artificial Intelligence" Fanfiction Online Anthology

"Fire and Ice", Or "Blush, Blaze Burn"
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Title: Blush, Blaze, Burn  
Author: Sapphire Rose

Disclaimer: Nothing in this story belongs to me except the character I made up. And I used some lyrics to a song by Linkin Park song ('One Step Closer'); I don't own them either.
Rating: R (some sexual content, some language, and strong thematic elements)
Summary: A mysterious client uses Joe's services to her advantage, and makes his life a living hell.

Every rose has its thorns.
So true in this world, yes.
Whenever you think someone is perfect, or too beautiful to be true, it turns out they're not. There are many roses in this world, but the more beautiful the rose, the more thorns.
The rose's name was Aimee. She was a beautiful rose, and she had many, many thorns.
Chapter 1: Blush
Rouge City was a not a place for the faint of heart. It's for people looking for a good time. And there was no better place to find it than in a man, usually standing outside Our Lady of the Immaculate Heart church.
A handsome man, tall, dark hair, and beautiful jade eyes.
When Aimee walked past him, she could tell it was the one everyone wanted. She thought he was very handsome, and she knew who he was. And she knew he was artificial. Features such as his could only be artificial. She directed her steps more towards him, until she was very close to him.
 'Hey, Joe, whadaya know?' she said as she ran her finger under his chin.
She almost felt his jade eyes scanning up and down her beautiful body. And she knew he thought it was beautiful from the look in his eyes.
'Hello, miss. And how can I help you?' he asked with a smirk.
'Nothing, really. I've heard a lot about you," said Aimee. She started to walk away. I'll toy with him first, she thought.
As she suspected, he followed her.
'Have you heard that women ask for me by name?' he said.
Aimee laughed. 'No.,,'
'Well, maybe you'd like to find out.'
Aimee turned towards him and looked into his eyes. ' I'd like that,' she said seductively.
Joe smiled and looked content.
 How about my apartment?' she said.
'Works for me.'
'It's at 432 Harlot St., Apartment B. I'm thinking, maybe, 7:00?'
 'What do you think about tomorrow?"
'Alright then. See you then. And my name is Aimee Carter.' Aimee walked off into the crowd, her skirt swaying behind her.
Evening turned into night and into the next day. Morning turned to afternoon, which turned into evening, which turned into night. At exactly 7:00 PM, Joe stepped into Aimee's apartment.
Joe could always tell a virgin when he saw one. They were always clinging to their boyfriends and not wearing all that much. And when they came to him, they paid a lot of money. This woman was not a virgin. But she looked eager. And she was damn beautiful.
Joe softly knocked on Aimee's door. He listened for anything, and knocked again. 'Excuse me? Miss?' No answer.
Joe turned the knob and surprisingly, it was open. He walked inside.
The only light in the room was coming from blood red candies that smelled lovely. The bedsheets were silk, Joe could tell, and white. But what was more important was what was on top of the bedsheets.
Aimee was laying there, dressed in only a satin, ruby red bra and a matching thong. She was wearing red lipstick. Her black eyeshadow made her look like a woman in a porn movie.
She rose from the bed and strode over to Joe. She suddenly quickened and pinned him against the wall.
'Um, miss?' he stuttered.
She said nothing.
She then drew towards him and her lips fell upon his.
Her kisses were slow, hot, and passionate. Joe led her over to the bed, but she switched him around, tore off his jacket, and pushed him onto the bed. She then got on top of him, and began their night of wild abandon. 
The morning came swiftly. Joe left early to avoid any more pain that might've been coming to him.
As Joe walked out onto the street, he thought about what that woman's problem was. She was like a wild animal. She had clawed his back and it left scratch marks. But the sex had been amazing, and Joe was willing to risk the pain for another night like that.
She was different, all right. Joe knew that much. But what he didn't know was what she had in store for him.
The next few days were some of the most physically painful days Joe had experienced. Aimee wanted to have him every night. Less wild women asked for him many times, but he was too wrapped up in Aimee to give them what they wanted. Soon he was with Aimee every night, every painful night, but his damn honor prevented him from saying no to her. Soon, he realized he was becoming Aimee's own personal sex slave.
It was going to get worse.
* * * * *
Part 2: Blaze

Poor little Tim. He had no money. He was completely broke. Unfortunately, Tim had some very important loans to pay off.
See, 2 months ago, Tim was just a normal collage freshman, failing every class, studying until he fell asleep, getting high on caffeine every morning. But poor Tim shared a dorm with the 4 toughest seniors on campus or anywhere for that matter.
There was a girl named Sandy that Tim liked and was trying to impress. One day he said he'd take her to the most expensive restaurant in town. But Tim was poor. And he needed money.
Tim might've been broke, but he was also lovesick and stupid, so, being the dope he is, asked the 4 tough guys that shared his dorm for $500. They gave it to him, just because they're so generous, but they wanted to be repaid quickly.
And Tim had no money.
And if he didn't repay them soon, he'd not only be kicked out of the dorm, but beaten to a pulp as well.
So Tim got a job at 432 Harlot St., at Freemont Apartments, as a bellboy.
One day, Tim was waiting patiently in the elevator, when a beautiful woman came in. Tim recognized her. Her name was Aimee. And she was a lying slut. She couldn't be trusted. Tim found that out the hard way.
When Tim had just started out at Freemont Apartments, Aimee had told him that she would give him $50 if he cleaned her apartment; he never got the money from her. When he asked about it, she slapped him, and it hurt too. So Tim decided never to bring up that subject again.
Anyway, when she came into the elevator, she looked in his eye with a stone-cold glare.
As the elevator went down, she bent down and whispered in his ear,' I got raped last night.'
Tim almost threw up lunch. 'What?'
'I, um, got raped last night, by the love mecha who comes here every night.'
Tim knew she was lying. 'I don't believe you.'
'Why not?'
'Because you're a liar."
Aimee looked at the elevator door, and sighed. The she started rummaging through her purse and pulled out a bunch of bills.
'I got raped last night, didn't 1?' she said coyly.
She started laying down bills in Tim's hand. One was a $100, and the rest were $50s.
Tim could hardly believe it. With this money, he could pay off his loans and buy the girl he liked something nice. The mecha Aimee was talking about would get in trouble, but hey, it's a mecha. It doesn't have feelings.
'Um, yes ma'am.'
'Good. The mecha's name is Gigolo Joe.' The elevator door slid open. 'See ya later,' she said as she stepped out.
When Joe walked across the street to Freemont apartments for another painful night with Aimee, he thought nothing of the sirens coming closer and closer. He didn't know they were meant for him.
 Someone's yell came across the street. Joe looked up from the ground and towards the person who had yelled.
It was Aimee. With a bellboy.
She was pointing at him and talking to the police. She looked confused and scared.
Joe ran over. "Miss, are you airight?' he asked.
'AHH! GET IT AWAY!!' she yelled, and hid behind the policemen she was talking to.
'It's true! I saw him do it!' the bellboy cried.
Joe looked around at all the police cars. Were they meant for him? What had he done? 'What's going on?' he asked.
The policeman twisted Joe's hands behind his back and slapped some handcuffs on them. ' Gigolo Joe, you are under arrest for the rape of Aimee Carter.'
And with that, the policeman dragged Joe to the car, and drove off towards the special mecha prison. As they drove away, Joe could see a smile playing across her lips.

* * * * *
Part 3: Burn
Adam Tare sat with his feet propped up on his desk, a mug of coffee sitting ignored, the sounds of a television show floating around the small room. A wastebasket sat overflowing with paper. On the desk was a sandwich sitting on it's wrapper, half-eaten. Linkin Park's, 'One Step Closer', blasted in his earphones. A calendar on the wall said, 'The Sexiest Playboy Models of All Time', sat on the wall, showing a curvy woman in the Playboy bunny outfit.
Adam reached down and took a bite of his sandwich. 'Mmm, yummy', he said.
Suddenly, he heard the click-click of high-heels on the floor ahead. A woman strutted towards him, dressed in a pink spagetthi-strap top with a denim jacket, and a dark pink skirt.
'I'm here to see one,' she said. Adam pushed the headphones off his ears and took another bite of his sandwich.
'What ID number?' he said in a monotone.
The woman looked a small piece of paper she held in her slender hand. '37528488,' she said.
Adam yanked a little microphone out of a concealed compartment and spoke into it. 'Hey, Marty, get 37528488 to the front of the pit.' Adam put the microphone back and pressed a button. A barred door clanged open on the left.
'It's the Ist door on the right after you turn left after you go down this hall,' he said.
'Thanks,' the woman said, and she started walking towards the end of the hall.
Adam put his earphones back on.
'Everything you say to me,
Takes me one step closer to edge,
And I'm about to break,
I need a little room to breathe,
'Cause I'm one step closer to the edge,
I'm about to break."
*  *  *  *  *  *

Joe sat against the wall, his body crushed up against it. The other hundreds of mecha in the pit were all ruthless. The taunted him, they hit each other and him occasionally. They all had committed awful crimes, crimes Joe was surprised a mecha was capable of. Mecha's who stole, mecha's who kidnapped, mecha's who blackmailed, mecha's who raped, mecha's who killed.
And there was no way out.
In this prison, there was no trial for the presumed guilty. Not even a trial for those presumed innocent. Even if they had not committed a crime, like Joe, there was no appeal, no chance for freedom. All the mecha just stayed in this smelly, dark, depressing pit, where all stayed under a sky of dust.
Joe now knew why he was here. Aimee had set him up. She had said he raped her, after everything he did for her.
Damn her, he thought. Damn her to hell.
Suddenly, there was a strong tug on his arms. He looked up to see two officers grabbing his arms. They started to haul him to the front of the pit, where there was a platform for people who actually wanted to talk to the mecha. Wait, no one wanted to talk to him. He was being hauled to death. Soon it would all end, in a cloud of darkness. Death by electrocution.
When they reached the platform, Joe found himself looking up into the smiling face of Aimee, leaning over the rail. The officers let go of his arms.
'Hey, Joe, whaddya know?' she said cheerfully.
Joe's expression didn't change. 'Damn you,' he said. Aimee laughed.
'Oh, Joe, you honestly didn't think about the consequences of raping me?"
Joe glared at her. 'I didn't do a thing to you."
Aimee said nothing, but she looked around the pit. 'Nice place they stuck you in,' she said.
Joe looked behind him, and then back at Aimee. 'You did this to me,' he hissed.
Aimee laughed again. 'Yes, you're right.' Aimee turned to go, but she then turned around. 'Your destruction is next Tuesday. I'll be there.'
Aimee then turned around and strutted out.
Joe lowered his eyes and went to his spot near the wall. He was feeling something he had never felt before. Something strange and different. Something Joe was not fond of. And then he realized it.
He was feeling emotional pain.
Tuesday came. Joe had been led to a post, where a wire in his ankle was connected to another wire, which was hooked up to a machine, which delivered 30,000 volts.
His hands hand been handcuffed to the back the back of the post. There was only one other person in the room, a short man with a big Moustache.
'Do you enjoy your job?' Joe asked him.
 'It's pret-ty oh-kay,' the man said in a nasal voice.
Joe lifted his eyes when he heard footsteps coming towards him.
It was Aimee.
"Hello Joe,' she said.
Joe smiled sarcastically. "Hello Aimee."
Aimee walked towards him and smiled.
'Why are you doing this to me?' he asked.
Aimee started walking around the post. 'Joe, do you think anybody gives a damn if you explode into millions of tiny pieces? No, no one gives a damn. Warina know why? Because you have one sole purpose in life, and that is to please women. This is your life. Now, that you'll be gone, another one will just replace you,' she explained as she came right in front of him.
'You killed me,' he said tersely.
'I didn't kill you Joe', she whispered as she leaned close to him. 'People who get killed are people who matter.' Amy leaned forward and passionately kissed him. 'I destroyed you.'
Joe tried to turn his head the other way.
'And people who get destroyed are the people who are rejects.'
She took one last look at him and walked away.

Minutes and hours passed. Joe waited patiently his time to cease, but it never came.
'Why isn't anything happening? Why aren't you doing anything?' he asked.
'I tried, but I think it's broken.", said the guard.
'That's not it,' came a voice from the doorway. Both Joe and the guard turned towards the voice.
A man walked casually inside. He had black, slicked back hair, a nice business suit on, and a cigar in his mouth. 'Warren, how many years have you worked here?' he asked.
'8,' said the guard.
'And in your 8 years of experience, you didn't even think to check if the damn thing was plugged in?' The man held up a cord.
The guard turned a nice shade of red and lowered his head. 'Oops,' he said quietly.
'No matter,' the man said. He walked over to Joe and blew cigar smoke in his face. Joe coughed.
'Joe, I'm Mr.Cipriani. The owner of Palasade Enterprises.' Joe looked at him.
'Are you going to help me, Mr. Kipriani?' he said.
Mr. Cipriani leaned forward. 'Sipriani, Joe. It's pronounced Sipriani.'
'Oh, right. But are you going to help me?' Joe already knew he wasn't going to help him. He knew he shouldn't be asking for help; he wasn't supposed to feel emotional pain. But regardless of that, Joe didn't want to die.
'Joe, I'm not here to help you. I'm here to watch you die.'
'Why? I'm one of your best. You know that.'
Mr. Cipriani chuckled and took another whiff of his cigar. 'Joe, the reason is because you have disappointed me. Love mechas are not supposed to rape their clients,' he said icily.
 'I didn't rape her!'
 'Yes you did. And also, someone better will replace you. Someone better at his or her job. Someone reliable. Someone who won't embarrass Palasade.'
Joe looked down again. The guard plugged the machine backed in. 'Fine. Watch me die. Watch your best employee explode into millions of tiny pieces. Watch and regret,' Joe said coldly.
Mr. Cipriani said nothing. The guard shoved the plug back in.
'Al-right-y then,' he said. Mr. Cipriani stepped away from Joe.
Joe took a deep breath. This was it. His demise. The inevitable. What more was there to do than just stand here and wait for destruction to come? He realized Mr. Cipriani was right. He would never amount to anything in life. He was all alone. No one gave a damn about him. He was on the outside. He always would be. If he was given a chance. But no. He was a mecha. He was nothing.
Joe looked up. A woman with blonde hair and a brown shirt with a black skirt was running down the hall, waving a piece of paper in the air. Her hand was clasped to another man's arm.
'Stop everything!' she said as she ran towards them.
Joe looked at her. She seemed kind of familiar, but he didn't recognize her in particular.
'Joe!' she cried.
'Do I know you?' he asked.
'Yes, Joe! I was one of your clients!'
'What's your name?'
'Patricia Archer. And this is my boyfriend Craig Dray.'
Patricia? The name didn't ring a bell.
 'Joe, Craig is a lawyer. He was researching on some rape cases, and he came across a woman called Angelina Marsters. She's a woman who would seduce all kinds of men and then frame them for rape. It seems a lot like your case. She has many aliases,' Ms. Archer explained. She then shuffled some papers.
'Wait a minute. How'd you know I was here?' asked Joe.
'Craig studies every case, and this just happened to be one of them. Even though you're a mecha, you're still innocent. 'Do you recognize any of these names?' she asked. She held up a piece of paper and read off of it. 'Jodie Welling, Casey Jackman, Laura Martin, Tara Lowe, Julianna Walker, Aimee Carter, Rose Maguire-'
'Wait!' Joe cried out.
Ms. Archer looked up from the sheet.
'Aimee Carter. That's her. That's the bitch who framed me,' Joe said proudly.
Ms. Archer smiled. 'Well, then. Mr. Cipriani, I think you should let him go.'
Mr. Cipriani spit out cigar smoke in Ms. Archer's face. 'I think I shouldn't. I still think he's lying.'
'I THINK YOU SHOULD!' Ms. Archer screamed in his face. Her boyfriend grabbed her and swung her around so she faced the back wall.
'Sorry, she's going through an anger management program,' he said apologetically. He then handed some files to Mr. Cipriani. 'The proof's all here, Mr. Cipriani. I've been doing research on this for a long time. Let him go.'
Mr. Cipriani took a couple more puffs on his cigar. As he read over the papers, a somber expression formed on his face. He then looked at Warren the Guard, then to Ms. Archer, to Mr. Dray, then to Joe. Then he looked at his feet and took some more puffs on his cigar.
'Tell you what,' Mr. Cipriani said coolly to Mr. Dray. 'I'll delay his execution until I've gone over all these papers. If the proofs states that he's innocent, I'll let him go. If not, then, well, you know.'
"What do I do until then?' Joe asked.
'You stay there.'
 Ms. Archer nodded. 'All right, but if you don't let him go...'
 'What will you do?' asked Mr. Cipriani.
 'File a lawsuit.'
'Why is he so important to you?'
'Because he's a good worker and deserves to be out there working. Good day, Mr. Cipriani.'

A day passed.
Joe was tired of waiting. If they were going to kill him, either do it now or let him go, he thought.
That afternoon Mr. Cipriani, Warren the guard, Ms. Archer, and Mr. Dray came to see him. Mr. Cipriani was looking at him coldly. Joe didn't know why. Maybe he was just that kind of person. Mr. Cipriani was the kind of person who always looked at people coldly.
Everyone stared at each other for a while. Mr. Cipriani was the first to speak, and when he did, it was to Warren the Guard.
'Let him go."
Warren the Guard nodded and went over to Joe to untie him.
 He was free. Free to go. No longer guilty. He wasn't going to explode into millions of tiny pieces.
'Thank you, Ms. Archer, Mr. Dray,' said Joe.
 'Well, you did give me the greatest night of my life,' Ms. Archer stated, at which Mr. Dray punched her in the arm.
'Anytime you want to experience that again, ask for me,' said Joe with a smirk.
As he strode out with a new sense of self, Joe suddenly remembered something very important. He rushed back inside and called the police. He gave them an'address and then started his walk towards 432 Harlot St., Apartment B.
*  *  *  *  *  *

'Hello, Aimee."
Aimee looked up from her paperwork and looked towards the voice. Her mouth dropped open when she saw the person whom the voice belonged to.
'Or should I say, Angelina.'
Aimee shook her head. 'Joe! No, you were supposed to be executed yesterday!'
Joe strode into the apartment and looked around. 'I came back from the dead.' He sat down next to her.

'How ... how did you get free?' she stuttered.
Joe smiled and waved a photograph in front of her face. It showed a picture of her with her hair all tangly and rings under her eyes. Her hair was very long and dark. It showed her with an ID tag around her neck that said, "#38249729'. In one picture, she faced the camera. In the other, she faced the left. Underneath, it said, ' Angelina Marsters a.k.a. Aimee Carter a.k.a. Rose Maguire, a.k.a. Casey Jackman a.k.a. Jodie Welling a.k.a. Tara Lowe a.k.a. Laura Martin a.k.a. Julianna Walker a.k.a. Michelle Cruz a.k.a. Rachel Hayes a.k.a. Jessie Hyde.'
Aimee grabbed it from Joe's hand. 'Where'd you get this?' she asked in horror.
'Oh, I have my sources. Seems like you spent some time in jail before, Aimee, or Angelina, or Casey, or Michelle, or Laura or whoever you are. An old client cleared me with your extensive criminal record. I brought some friends to see you,' Joe said with evident satisfaction.
Four policemen walked in to the room as if on cue.
Aimee did her best to look innocent. 'Can I help you, officers?' she asked sweetly.
'Yeah, you can help by not putting up a fight', one said. The others rushed over to handcuff her.
She sighed. 'Is there any way we could settle this by fucking?' she asked.
'No. Take her away boys!' The policemen led her out the door.
'I've always wanted to say that', the first policeman muttered as he walked out the door.
Joe followed them out the apartment and out onto the streets of Rouge City. It would be wonderful to be back in the main part of town again. Not here, with all the single people living alone in apartments. Back into the prostitution ring he would go. And go please other woman that weren't Aimee.
Joe started to walk towards the red light district.

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