Mr. Blue-Eyes

It new one thing, one important thing: To be alone was to risk the end. It was not to be left alone, under any circumstances.

Set free by pure coincidence, accidentally let loose by an idiot in the labs, the creature stalked the hallways, unaware. And it found, within its travels, those that deserved, above all else, to die horrible, violent deaths.

Not that it knew that, nor could it honestly judge such a thing, but within the scope of society, with ‘right’ and ‘wrong’ and ‘moral’ and ‘decent’ the guideposts were so unavoidably sharp and clear that no one could believe otherwise.

Central was rotten to its core, and had to be destroyed.

That is where Mr. Blue-eyes came in, it supposed. And with Mr. Blue-eyes, destruction. It read his history, his penchant for martyrdom and his ability to, above all, remain steadfastly loyal, as though it were damn near genetic.

And it drank him down in long, sweet gulps, tasting his hopes and fears and swallowing his dreams, digesting them as he fell to its power, to its touch.

Pleasure and pain. Nothing but pleasure and pain.

It slipped away, walked right out, past a Checker who did not see because she was a part of Central when this thing was created, and this thing was created solely to get past Central’s own.

Central was undone, of course, but every memory of Mr. Blue-eyes existed in the thing’s brain, and now it knew precisely how not to be alone.

For all its wonder, for all its brilliance and amazing aptitudes, Eve Mark Three was little more than a child trapped in the bindings of an android body. A god-child, yes, child-god, thing, monster, yes. Semi-latent psychokinetic abilities, a genius-level intelligence, and more than rudimentary emotions.

And the ability to dream.

And to learn.

And to change.

It had no real malice, nor no real need to recreate Central at all.

It just didn’t want to be alone as it had been for so many, many years.

And so it took Mr. Blue-eyes and left behind a mangled, torn body, with his ring.

It took Mr. Blue-eyes away, so that it would never be alone again.

Advertisements

Talk back to me. Trust me; I'm listening.

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s