Eyes of Purple

Chapter Nineteen

The Mangle was watching.

Patiently. Ever-so patiently. They were practically built around patience- a virtue, some would preach. The Mangle thought of it as a severe annoance.

Think on this. How would you feel if every day, someone thought that you were something to tear apart? Hands, teeth, little children's tiny claws, scrambling upon you, turning you into something else. No permission. No benefit.

Just an ugly toy to pull at the seams.

The Mangle was incapable of tears, as it was not designed for such things. They were made, at first, to be beautiful. Sympathetic of someone else's pain.

But that trait was long gone now.

The Captain had given the orders. The Second must die- one of them must accomplish this. He could not finish what his father started.

And the Speaker could do nothing about it... The Captain would see to that. She was her own boss, after all.

So, the Mangle lies on the floor, their missing eye staring glassily up at the camera, their extra head crooning softly. Waiting.

Because their time is indeed coming.