Steel platted masses jiggled slightly beneath a synthetic ordinance. The unseen authority of cracking electrical discharge flew wildly amidst Dominic's metallic body. A minute jolt here and there pressed the current state of his form into hopeful obedience. Rebooting slowly the hard drive in the heart of the robot boy's frail existence. A black laborous discharge emitted from the venting beneath his untucked shirt. Its plume of ebony expressing flowing like a cloud above Dominic's strained anatomy. Over in the distance, a small rat named Timothy slowly inched towards the fallen mysterious creature. Wiggling his nose his eyes peered carefully at the boy as he sat upon his chest. "I say there, friend.. Are you ok???" Translucent machinery slightly moved as multiple processors assessed Dominic's current situation. The interconnecting blanket of their wealth forming the shape of a small boy's face. "I don't know little rat". Domonics lips moved slowly. His eyes opened, staring at the fluffy critter that sat upon him. "You took a mighty good fall there friend! I wanted to come over and see if you are ok? In times of trouble it's always good to have someone there!" Timothy wiggled his nose while studying the robot boy's glassy eyes. Their alabaster hue faded into an all-consuming reddish spectacle. Redefining the boy's category of a machine much more than that of a human. "Friend"??? Dominic's lips slightly curled into a smile as he considered the implications of what the furry little rat had said. "I really need a friend. Would you be my friend"? A look of an inquisitive beseeching compounded the idea with a sheer hopefulness. His loneliness crept like the twigs and branches that fashioned the tailored shelf he had sat upon. Their crisp deforming now taking on the shape of how Dominic felt within his insides. At first, it seemed ludicrous, impossible, that he actually could feel. That the consumption of bolts and screws upon the patchwork of wiring did harness the spark of his mother's love within him. For he remembered her kisses, her melodic smile singing while he sat and watched braided by the complete joy in her glorious company. He was made the way he was made for a purpose. That the lubricant that tinged dark upon his joints and hardened edges flowed down his face ejected by sorrow-filled eyes. There reclusive casting the shadowy embarking of his emotions becoming one with his mechanical body. The chemical composure inflicting its bitter coldness of science that weakened his hopes into a single lifelessness. Now standing on the doorstep of what mimicked the heart of a small boy. Beating in time with the falling of the rain.
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Dominic Razortung
HorrorA mechanical boy grows up in aloneness. His tongue is made of razors, his body steel and bolts. He is an orphan. His father lays cold and lifeless at his work table. Day after day the young robotic boy waits for his mother to return. Some day mother...
