Bad Endings from a Deleted Interactive Fanfic

"Almost" - Astro Boy x Reader (A scrapped ending from years ago)

* * Warning: This chapter contains disturbing themes.

Please read the description before reading this. Thank you. * *

"Stop it. You're hurting it. It's suffering." The way you spoke down to him was no better than a mother scolding a child, an innocent and terribly disturbed one at that.

Astro dropped his fist and stared blankly at the unrecognizable mass that lay before him. The blood and guts had strewn so far out into the snow that you might not have known it used to be a fluffy brown dog with curled-in teddy bear ears. Thankfully, the noises faded away long before it became unrecognizable. You didn't know what you would do if it had continued to utter another whine when it turned into a pile of matted fur and blood and bones; to say that, however, was a weak excuse. It was like fleeing. Just because it didn't look like a dog, did not mean it didn't used to be one.

"He's not going to bother you anymore (Name)," Astro said to you when you clung onto his arm. Desperate as you were, you knew his strength far surpassed your own. He was a monster with a child's face. His inability to comprehend the significance of what he had done frightened you. In a way, you supposed it was your fault this had happened.

Astro was, as some may have put it, "broken." He, like many others who had returned from the war, had seen things that no one wanted to witness.

You heard tales of the soldiers' return. For one thing, having your legs blown off didn't immediately put you into shock; a man could still lie there breathing and fully cognizant long before the panic and adrenaline kicked in. Another thing learned was that shooting a bullet through the head resulted in pink matter flying out; the color was comparable to crude pork but with the coagulated consistency of cold chicken blood. Astounding how something like that could keep a human being going.

You were well aware of the consequences that going to the war might bring. You knew he would come back different, and no matter how little or big that alter was, you knew he wouldn't be the same again.

Still, you let him go. It was on that cold winter day three years ago, when the stations turned on the electricity for another hour to light the paths to the trucks, you bid Astro goodbye. Looking back on it, you should have kept him back. There was plenty of room in the basement to hide him from authorities and if you needed to, you two could have always tried running away. Alas, the last thing he said when you parted with him was a single-worded "Farewell."

Maybe, you told yourself, he wanted to keep it simple to minimize the impact of leaving you. After all, it might have been the last time you would see him. But the worst part of all was that, deep down in your heart, part of you also feared him actually returning.

The blood was beginning to smell in spite of the cold. The flesh was steaming. Had it not been for the putrid iron aroma, one could have easily scooped up the ruddy ice and sold it off as strawberry snow cones as a cruel joke.

"Astro, let's go home." You extended your arm and snatched ahold of his sleeve. Then, something unexpected happened. He whipped around and tugged away harshly, his usually calm brown eyes frozen and rigid with an unspeakable fear.

Startled, you let out a gasp. He never acted out against at your touch before. Not even after he returned. Was it due to the sight of blood? Or maybe it was thrill of slaughtering something once again.

Again.

You felt sick. Here was someone who had come back from three long years of war. In that time, he had to be bound to kill somebody. Why else might he return to you like this?