By Purveyor 11 Comments
Designed to be useful or practical rather than attractive.
The Dark Room
Iron works, a secretive factory sat 93 meters underneath brutus enterprises ground floor, a pissant manufacturing pitt about as abandoned as any neighborhoods old haunted house, but two new company were there, one a betrayer of loyalty and disbelief that sat at a lone computer accessing data files he knows he should not be doing. His eyes shot wide open, reading the systematic mind of the one who he tried to go against, typing progressively, watching the programs, plans and classified information get captured into his mind. He thought he was alone. Thinking he was safe, but the common sound of machinery coming closer in the cruel silence begged to cease his plans.
Coming closer in slow and steady steps that filled the blank eerie volume with his arrival.
A laconic statue made itself known in the shadows of the corridor. Addressing the doddering prey with his immortal creed. "I was thinking about a story from the bible, more of a curiosity than a faith." his slight mechanized timbre resonated passed the ocean of black metal and latched into the attention of the single dweller, fidgeting in the presidents sudden wake. It was the eerie frame that produced a scantly inhuman and injured voice, coming from the empty crevasse of his chest. Something that mortal men could never tolerate without was missing. No heart beat, no hint of life. The heart was replaced, taken away by the fear of those who couldn't comprehend his monumental quiddity, forcing him to sacrifice his very flesh for the lives of others.
Recycled and repurposed into an inorganic machine. It disturbed him.
Yet his affection still remained even with the lost of his bodies prime essence. Even without the feeling of his own life and warmth, the purveyor still yearned the fervor that created him.This room was no different than the victims sepulcher that motivated the mourning father. A broken-hearted kennel and soon-to-be another product of the past."But this one story.. about a man, traveling from city to city when he was set upon by men of ill intent."
Covered in the abyss of the environment, however the listening man could feel something off putting. Knowing the statue that spoke sustained eye contact in the silence of color, a predator hiding behind the disguise of night. Without even seeing the face of the figure standing before him, he knew his purpose. It was clear that the morality of his sweet meat was being taken away. Leaving nothing behind but bitterness as he once demonstrated before to the cyclops of the equalizers. He compared the black ugly crust as a fence and the soft and weak gore of the cake as the innocent sheep we needed to protect. "Stripping the traveler of his clothes, they beat him, and they left him bleeding in the dirt." He spoke of the worlds status and the people that he tried to protect
The prey shot at him with technology advanced enough to penetrate Brutus enterprises highest level of shielding but the statue was unmoved and continued on his story.
"A priest happened by, saw the traveler, but he moved to the other side of the road and continued on." Without the fence to keep the sheep in, it allowed the wolves to get through, mawing and taking what he had tried to protect, all the shepherd would have left is the bitterness, turned into fear and unwillingness to do what was right. "Then a Levite, came to the scene, saw the dying traveler. But he too moved to the other side of the road, passed him by."Everyday Brutus tried to proved he would do anything to prevent that, to keep the worlds heroes from turning into the pitiful priest and levite that only sought for themselves.
Trembling of the anxious prey was the result of the purveyor's classified durability, keeping his intentions in protecting his people no matter what it had to take, Sacrificing more of his humanity, the inventor took the inhumane path and turned the nuclear blood that spilled from his victims, into a haunting level of shielding for himself.
"But then came a Samaritan, a good man. He saw the traveler bleeding in the road and he stopped to aid him without thinking of the circumstance or the difficulty it might bring him"
"That even staring into the abyss - I am not afraid of the consequences that it shows me"
He thought of himself as the Samaritan, explaining to the grim reaper that tried to claim his soul, the ambitious man told he wasn't afraid, he wouldn't stop, he convinced the embodiment of punishment that what he was doing was for the greater good. A small necessary evil to get rid of the bigger ones, that his ambitions was greater than the justified concern of those who feared him.
"I'm doing this simply because the traveler is my neighbor."
"I'm trying to help this world and all the people in it."
"And by undressing you."
"A wolf who threatens the shepherds fence."
"That dares quarrel my sheep."
"Will awaken the demon inside of me. "