Not Alone

The End of the Hall

"That big boy bot had better be in one piece from the neck down," Ulysses muttered. "First two broken screens and now this..."

Brown trained the bolt gun hard on the Skibidi's face and tapped his right foot.

"I can't believe it's not even ten o'clock on a Tuesday morning..." the Skibidi continued to rant, not acknowledging Brown. "Doctor, there's someone injured out in the corridor, you'd better go help."

Don't you dare treat me like I'm invisible. 

Brown fought to ignore the pain in his lens, his bisected vision. 

Wait.

Did the Skibidi suspect the gun isn't loaded?

Ulysses looked at Brown foxily. 

"Why didn't you leave with your little friends? Something you want? Let me guess... you want that lens fixed?"

(You took a woman out of the cell) Brown signed. (A Speakerwoman. Her name is Gundy. No matter what happens, I am not leaving without her.)

"Woman?" Ulysses inhaled his cigarette thoughtfully. "That was a woman? Yeah, I remember. She was a strong one. She got away from me and I had to chase her down three corridors. And she broke my glasses with a sound wave. But the stronger they are the better— well, never mind about that."

(What did you do with her?) Brown signed, walking slowly closer, trying not to let his hands tremble as he trained the bolt gun directly on the Skibidi's right eye socket. 

"Same thing I do with all of them," Ulysses replied. "I just took her to the end of the hall." 

There was an unconvincing pout in his voice, the tone of one unfairly accused of something. 

(Take me to her) Brown signed. (Or I'll shoot out both your eyes one by one, and then beat you to death with the barrel of the gun.) 

The skeptical little smirk on the Skibidi's face didn't even flicker. 

Damnit, Brown thought. I should have taken the woman hostage. Maybe this smug creep would be taking the situation more seriously... 

But the female Skibidi had already gone into the corridor, and the younger male was hanging back, staying as far away from Brown as possible. 

"Son..." Ulysses dropped the remains of his cigarette onto the floor and trampled it under one of his claws. "You're a little emotional for a robot, you know that?" 

(Take. Me. To. Gundy.) 

The Skibidi gave him a thoughtful look. 

Brown thought about the chunk of glass in his pocket, about dropping all pretense that the bolt gun was loaded and simply using it as a club. 

Before he could reach any drastic decision, Ulysses said:

"Fine. No need for anything silly. I'll take you to where she is, it's not very far away. Follow me." 

He walked out the door and Brown hurried after him, catching up and pressing the nozzle of the bolt gun against the back of his head. 

Ulysses showed no sign that he noticed. 

"Alarm off," he said, and the cacophony fell silent. 

The red light trembled, the corridor went momentarily black, and the dingy yellow overhead lights returned. 

Brown turned back to see the Skibidi with the broken screen, his long metal tentacles now sprawled lifelessly across the corridor, his mutilated face slumped downwards.