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“AI writer” yeah no. Fuck AI. You’re not a “writer” if you use AI. AI is actively killing ecosystems, using drinkable water, affecting poor neighborhoods with AI data centers, and ruining artists and artistic spaces. If you use generative AI in any way, please don’t interact with my account 🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍 thank you all
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Heisenberg fucked up. He doesn't like to admit it but it happaned. But maybe, just maybe it wasn't even that bad.
⚠️TW: This chapter contains canon-based gore and death. If you're not comfortable with it don't read.
English isn't my first language so I apologize for all gramatical mistakes. Have fun reading))
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3rd pov.
Fucking thing. One error and it immediately acts out. Heisenberg grips his hammer tightly as the creature in front of him struggles to get off the ground.
It's not just any creature. It's one of his own Jet Soldaten and a single little mistake was apparently enough for that thing to develop its own mind and will. While yes, in a way that means that his plan did work out, he definitely didn't intend for it to escape his factory and go onto a homicide run in the village.
A violent, mechanical buzzing erupts from the floor as the Soldat's drill hands jump back to life. Time for round two.
The thing lunges but the fourth lord reacts quickly. He whirls his hammer around and a loud clank echoes through the room as metal meets metal. The Soldat flies back but this time Karl doesn't wait and immediately jumps after it. Another swing, another hit.
The gears of the hammer hook themselves with the helmet of the once been man and as Heisenberg retracts his weapon the protective gear gets ripped off, exposing the disfigured and vulnerable head. A disgusting sight and yet so fascinating...
A loud screech snaps him out of his mesmerized stare. He lifts his hammer one more time and lets it crash to the ground, shutting that thing up once and for all. Gosh, next time he has to remember to rip out their vocal cords before doing anything else.
Karl looks down at the failure beneath his feet, its skull crashed under the heavy metal, chunks of the skull, brain, blood, and flesh splattered everywhere, making it look like a brutal murder scene... Which technically, it was. The man sighs:"What a waste."
He had thought so long about how to make his Soldat better. To enhance it or even build something entirely new. Built prototypes, tried it on rats, chickens, God even a pig, calculated everything to the exact outcome and it always worked. So what went wrong this time? Maybe he really did get distracted while playing surgeon? No. Definitely not that. Maybe there was something wrong with the body to begin with? Whatever.
His eyes aimlessly wander around, taking in the damage as his mind is still trying to find the problem. One collapsed house more or less won't make a difference. Blends in with the rest of this garbage Village. Everything here will be nothing but ruins in a few years anyways.
His gaze suddenly stops as he notices something laying on the ground. Not one of the bricks from the wall or wood from the beams. No. It's shaped differently, looks soft and a lot more alive than all that scree.
"Huh." Heisenberg steps away from the soldat, No longer paying it any mind and kneels down besides that thing on the floor. "well, well, well, who do we have here?"
It appears to be a man. Long, dark hair that looks like it hasn't seen a drop of water or soap in ages, pale skin, long unkempt fingernails, deep eye bags that fall into the skull, sunken cheek bones and an overall obviously malnnurished body. But what stands out most is the thick, red liquid that's smeared all over the man's face, slowly sleeping down his neck and forming a deep, wine colored puddle under the head.
The thing that threw Karl off however was that there was no indent, no deep wound that would imply that the person got hit by a rock or literally just any sort of wound that could have happaned as the Soldat had crashed through the wall earlier. There seemed to be nothing.
Heisenberg slowly reaches towards the body, his gloved fingers closing around the man's stubbed chin and turns his head slightly to get a better look at the source of all that blood.
In the middle of it all there's a hole, the skin torn, the vital fluid gushing out of it with every heartbeat, indicating that the person is still alive. Even with all the smeary red stuff in the way it's still visible that the skin around the wound is torn, not sliced, which means that it wasn't caused by anything sharp but rather something dull but with a lot of force. A gunshot wound maybe?
His eyes skim the area around the body and- there. Trapped underneath the Bricks and dust is the murder weapon, laying innocently on the floor just a bit above the victim's hand. It's a simple but old handgun, black metal with a brownish tint from all the dust and dirt, wooden trim on the handle and a round barrel.
"Poor bastard", the German mumbles as he lets go off the other man's face and gets back up, standing tall over the two blood covered bodies on the ground. He could just walk away and be done with it. Lycian attacks happen all the time, people here die of all kinds of reasons. And the way that guy looks nobody would miss him anyways.
He grabs his hammer, the Soldat's head making a squishy and slimy sound as the weight is being lifted, and turns around to leave. Out of sight, out mind or whatever these people say. He takes a step forward, ready to go back to his factory and- he freezes.. Right in front of him, through the crumbled wall he has the perfect view of the Castle Dimitrescu.
Right. If anyone sees a corpse laying next to one of his creations he's fucked. That black winged freak would grill his ass.
Heisenberg sighs and turns back around, eyeing the bleeding out man in front of him. "Guess it's your lucky day. The grim reaper has to wait" Seems like he has something new to experiment on.
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In a small village in Eastern Europe everything goes down. The economic state is the lowest it's been in years, the lord's haven't made themselves heard in a long time, more and more Residents are dying and depression is taking even the ones alive.
⚠️TW: This chapter contains referenced depression and suic!de attempt. If you're struggling PLEASE reach out to someone.
English isn't my first language so I apologize for all gramatical mistakes. Have fun reading))
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I'm gonna fucking end it. Everything's so awful. This year's harvest has been so shitty due to the cold weather, the Villager's health is declining rapidly, the four lords barely make themselves heard and Mother Miranda is just watching.
I look at the gun laying right in front of me, my hands shaking. Aside from the economical and general problems, my own health has been declining more and more too. Both physically and mentally.
I've lost motivation to do literally anything a long time ago. Been in and out of depressive episodes but this time... This time feels different. Worse. Like my time is up, like there's no future planned for me.
My fingers carefully move towards the weapon. I haven't showered in over two weeks. Haven't left the house for three. Haven't eaten anything in the past two days. Have been wearing the same clothes for a week.
The tip of my weak, boney and disgusting fingers touch the cold metal of the slide. I barely have the energy to stand up right, let alone lift anything other than my own body. How pathetic.
My fingers close around the grip of the gun. It's heavy. Heaver than usual. Maybe it's my mind, trying to convince me that it's too heavy and that I should just go back to bed. Or maybe it's the lack of nutrition and usage of my muscles. Whatever it is, It's not like that matters now.
With trembling fingers I lift the the muzzle towards my face, the cold metal stinging against my chin like a sharp, frozen blade. There's nothing left for me here. No use for me. If anything I'm a burden. Just a waste of space, another greedy mouth to feed.
My finger twitches against the trigger, my entire body tense with seemingly the last bit of strength I have left. I'll finally be able to rest. Free this world from my dead weight and let myself forget everything. Let everyone forget me.
I take a deep breath to calm my quivering body down. The longer I wait, the more I'll hesitate. Sigh. I gradually increase force, the bone of my fingertip trapping the thin skin between it and the trigger and-
BOOM! A loud bang, dust swirls up, sudden light fills the room as someone crashed through the wall, splinters and pieces of wood flying everywhere. Wha- I snap back to reality, reflexes kicking in. I jump to the side, all the muscles in my body tensing until- click. Boom.
"AARGH." I drop to the ground, fingers clasping at my jaw as excruciating pain radiated trough my face. FUCK. Blood flows immediately, coating my fingers with thick, slimy red liquid and pouring onto the floor. My breat hitches, teeth gritted, body curled into a ball and fingers clenched around my jaw. It hurts so much.
I lay there frozen on the floor, my senses numbed by the pain as my vision starts to blur. No, no nononono. I apply more pressure, shooting another wave of pain trough my entire body. Black dots start dancing in front of my eyes, taking over more and more of my vision.No I- it can't...
The last thing I see is someone or something stepping in front of me before everything goes black.
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I'm definitely going to rewrite this soon.
Ik the first chapter is pretty short but I'll try to make the next ones longer. If you have any suggestions or critique please comment.
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turnnoffyourmind
origamiaround
yousharknotpass
