Legs bent and wires twisting, he was of obscure genesis a demon built in the form of pegasus.
Wings slowly stretch out to strange extents, copper veins pumping ichor, with intentions desolate.
A single eye, of a dark hue, almost lack but still blue, staring at hand full of bloody, white feathers.
The demon was still, dark stains and the red wetter, titanium razors of wings ruffling in the weather.
"I wear desperation as a rope, and have by no mean any wishes to hang myself with it.
I can't be allowed life on this plain, slowly rusted by all the rain and feasting on chickens."
The grinning man remained seated on the worn wood chair, leaning back, legs crossed without a care.
A screwdiver rest lightly in a palm, used for repairs. It was used for times like this, when he was aware.
"And it's been a while...since I've been able to claim to be versatile, was I always so hostile?
Am I nothing but an assassin? Augmented and enhanced so I'm worthwhile and perfectly guile?"
"Child, don't be silly. You're breaking down, that's why I wear this smile. I'll be done soon, stop your riddles."
The man only shook his hand, the demon's metallic mouth surrounded by what could be presumed as spittle.
"How can I really try and express myself when nothing but wires and circuits resting in my chest?
Why can I experience no emotions, but feel this stress...am I nothing but the product of progress?"
"Silence your blasphemy, my child born within me. You must realize that you're not just strewn debris."
"The gears turning inside cause me cause alarm, it's a sound like the screech of a banshee."
The man lunged forward, curly blonde locks shining, before the creature could reply.
"This is what happens when I'm defied. You're nothing but my machine, born of lies."
The screwdriver twisted, expertly sliding into a slot, and the robot watched its boss.
His voice slowly change and grew soft, usually stoic face contorted with its loss.
"My vision is nothing but fiction...I seem to shrink... I think that all I can see is some red and pink.
Stab my stained, sorry soul with a knife, sever links...all would happen is that I'd go and bleed ink."
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