RIP
Send âRIPâ and Iâll write a drabble of my Muse dying. (CLOSED)
Ted had wanted to make it perfectly clear that Ai was always welcome in his lab⌠on the off chance that heâd let the scientist tinker with his electronic brain. Maybe heâd needed maintenance when he arrived, or maybe heâd actually wanted to see the scientist, but he was met by silence.Â
The labs smelt vaguely rotten, but then they often didâ Tedâs particular room, was dark, the lights off until the AI entered, his motion causing the strip lights to flicker on one by one, preceded by little hums and clicks. It was still.Â
Sitting at his desk, face down on his laptop keyboard, Ted lay perfectly still. Maybe heâd finally succumbed to exhaustion and fallen asleep. Next to him sat an empty coffee cup, mould beginning to grow on the residue heâd left at the very bottom. The closer to Ted one got, the stronger the smell of rot grew⌠his white uniform looked grubbier than usual⌠dusty, rather than bloody.
Then it became clear. His face was sunken, eyes wide open⌠his lips were dry, blue, his skin beginning to peel away. His emaciated body was even skinnier than ever, his skin so white it was almost yellow. He had fallen asleep⌠and never woken up. As his laptop was woken up, Ai would see the words âYOU DIEDâ printed in red on the screen.











