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Description
"Who are you?" he challenged the shadows of the dusty room. He was sure, positive that his adversary lurked in one of them; now if he could only muster the courage to venture forth and examine them, move beyond the narrow pool of light bathing his fabric skin and illuminating the wood of the desk.

A low chuckle answered him, in the voice that now sent chills down his spine; he is but a gnat thrashing at the edge of the spider's web. The struggle of something so pathetic to cling to life has stirred amusement- but yielded no pity for the display.

"I don't hate you for who you are," its low, languid tone played with him, every syllable taking pause to stoke his fear a degree higher. "I hate you for who you were. And what you did."

He recoiled, then jerked forwards once more; any movement brought him away from the precious circle of light and the protection that afforded itself there. Any step was closer to the dark.

Closer to it.

"You can't see, can you?" it purred. "I can see. I can see everything. It's not dark at all. Those are my eyes. Why can't you see?

...Are you really that weak?"

He clamped his fingers down, hard on his head, as if to blot out the voice, blot out the dark and everything else. Somehow he wound up on his knees; someone was whimpering, softly. It was him.

His optics squeezed shut, he felt the light rather than saw it. A faint breeze, a shift of air in the windless room that tugged and fluttered at the tear that hung open in his face, showing the metal underneath.

He stayed there until morning; and borrowing bravery from the weak sunlight filtering through the window, he investigated the abandoned lab, dug into every corner and niche where he had before dared not to tread. He was alone. Completely alone.

But the monster was still there.

Description
"Who are you?" he challenged the shadows of the dusty room. He was sure, positive that his adversary lurked in one of them; now if he could only muster the courage to venture forth and examine them, move beyond the narrow pool of light bathing his fabric skin and illuminating the wood of the desk.

A low chuckle answered him, in the voice that now sent chills down his spine; he is but a gnat thrashing at the edge of the spider's web. The struggle of something so pathetic to cling to life has stirred amusement- but yielded no pity for the display.

"I don't hate you for who you are," its low, languid tone played with him, every syllable taking pause to stoke his fear a degree higher. "I hate you for who you were. And what you did."

He recoiled, then jerked forwards once more; any movement brought him away from the precious circle of light and the protection that afforded itself there. Any step was closer to the dark.

Closer to it.

"You can't see, can you?" it purred. "I can see. I can see everything. It's not dark at all. Those are my eyes. Why can't you see?

...Are you really that weak?"

He clamped his fingers down, hard on his head, as if to blot out the voice, blot out the dark and everything else. Somehow he wound up on his knees; someone was whimpering, softly. It was him.

His optics squeezed shut, he felt the light rather than saw it. A faint breeze, a shift of air in the windless room that tugged and fluttered at the tear that hung open in his face, showing the metal underneath.

He stayed there until morning; and borrowing bravery from the weak sunlight filtering through the window, he investigated the abandoned lab, dug into every corner and niche where he had before dared not to tread. He was alone. Completely alone.

But the monster was still there.