Title: The Thing.
Character(s): Turbo, Turbo Twins.
Word Count: 385.
His life blood had been sapped from him and given to an unworthy shell of a machine. He was tricked into thinking that he was loved and adored, that he meant the world to them as they did to he! Now he was left without immunity against the conservative world, attracting disease and feral thought to his crumbling conscience.
He felt his brain being boiled and churned, civilised façade melting, clotting, turning into a pulpous stinking mass of hate. His rationality had a swift death, his ability to maintain an outward appearance was dying slowly causing him to exhibit inconsistencies in his behaviour to others outside of his personal realm.
They watched, the twins, watched him give way to his embedded instinct, just as they had done since the beginning of time. The two had tried to encourage it out of him, aggravate their companion so that he’d respond violently, maliciously and give them something to enjoy. Nothing came out of it until now. They were spiteful of the thing across the room as well. Hated it with every fibre of their beings, shivering, shuddering, convulsing with animal loathing. This was their chance to engorge themselves with the blood of their enemy, an actual enemy – the two were certain that their actions would be justified with this label.
Jet and Set’s violent tendencies had been ignored in the past and they had suffered from malnutrition. But now, now they would suffer together with Turbo and now they would establish their roles as rulers, as dictators of the arcade.
The last of their rationality was used to contain themselves inside their own game. They left it not.
They had to remain its superiors for if they did not they would be wiped from the face of the planet and in that would be wiped from the memories of others. Their charisma, their impressions on others could not be relied on; secrecy had taken its toll in their time of need. Their presence, Turbo’s presence, Jet’s presence, Set’s presence was needed for words were not enough.
The thing across the room, the thing brought this paroxysm of madness, the thing made him, made them, nothing but dust; the thing had brought this plague!
It had to be cut out from their lives like the malignant cancer it was.
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