Killing the Light
an excerpt

Bright lights stabbed at Joshua Ravenstorm's eyes. Tears softened the glare for a moment. He tried to close his eyes, but he couldn't. He couldn't move his arms to cover his eyes with his hands. He couldn't move any part of his body. He tried to scream. His mouth wouldn't open. His vocal cords wouldn't vibrate. He wondered if he was dead. The last thing he remembered was the explosion.
"Vitals are stable," a woman's voice said. "The procedure may begin."
Shadowy shapes blotted out the lights. Joshua tried to blink away the tears that blurred his vision. He saw the faces only for a second. There were two of them, identical to each other in every way -- in the cold of the synthetic flesh as their fingers pressed against his face, the buzz of machinery in their guts and the stench of the heavy oils that lubricated their joints.
One of the machines raised an instrument that looked something like a cross between a syringe and a small pistol. The end of it was round and pronged. Joshua tried to turn his head as it came at his face, but the machines held him still. The prongs plowed into the bones around his left eye. He waited for it to hurt, but it didn't. Blood tickled his skin. Dread crawled through his chest. He knew what they were about to do to him. He would rather die than become one of their slaves, but there was nothing he could do.
Joshua watched the tiny needle spiral down towards his eye. When the needle made contact, there was an explosion of white hot light in his head. He heard himself screaming, although he knew he could make no sounds. A moment later, there was darkness and silence.