Ballad of a Well-Known Gun
Chapter 7. Until It Sleeps
There's a room made of metal. The room has no windows. There's a door, but the hinges are rusted, and it's unclear whether they would even work. The door is locked. The only light comes from a lamp bolted into the wall and covered with a metal grill. It emits a high-pitched buzzing. Occasionally, the light flickers, but it never goes out. The floor is metal, and there's a drain in the middle. There is no furniture in the metal room. In the corner of the metal room lies something that at a first glance looks like a scrap pile. Upon closer inspection, it resolves itself into a rusty robot. Its limbs are old and look like they have never fit together properly. No one's bothered to maintain it. It has no face, no human features. It's a pile of junk metal, forgotten in the room where the light never goes out and where nothing survives.
