DEATH DRESSES IN WHITE (part 1)
List of things to look out for: Attempts to be funny, (transfem) egg V1, off mention of the existence of smoking, the real horror is the fact that everything is a liminal space now :)
Once more, the machine woke up.
It sat up right. Its limbs were intact. Nothing seemed out of place. It ran a quick diagnosis.
Running diagnosticâŠ
Arm core module #1 responding
Arm core module #2 responding
Leg core module #1 responding
Leg core module #2 responding
Limbic function responding
Visual cortex responding
Audio processor responding
Wing blades responding
External damage: 0,2%
Internal damage: 0%
Time passed after reboot: 5 mins 11 secs
Fuel gauge: âŸïž
A peculiar sensation filled the machineâs chassis. How powerful was this new source of fuel? The machine slowly, yet shakily stood up. Just a few minutes ago, it felt as if Death herself wouldâve given V1 a visit in person. It observed its surroundings with a quick scan. The building hadnât suffered any major damage. Still, it was in rather poor shape. The outside of it made it look worse than it actually was. Verdure had begun to infiltrate itself through small cracks in the walls. The machine took one last glance at the illuminated door before leaving the building. It would check on this strange infrastructure on a later date.
ââââ
The streets were much more barren than V1 originally saw. There werenât any cars anywhere. Once what would be bustling shops were nothing but empty. What was left strewn about were pieces of trash, cigarette butts, thoroughly disgusting chewed up gum glued to the sidewalk, and a small coin or two. Nothing that was substantial, to be honest. While the machine spent most of its life in a facility, it was given information about what the world was meant to be like. Groups of individuals were supposed to run along to wherever they were going. Shopping districts were meant to be crowded beyond belief. Cars had to fill the streets, sometimes honking at each other due to road rage. There was nothing. There was no one. It was quiet, so quiet.
A previously ignored question came back in the forefront of the machineâs mind. Where had everyone gone to? What was perhaps the strangest phenomenon had to be the lack of others like V1. It still hadnât seen a single machine yet. They couldnât have just disappeared without a trace, especially the machines. They wouldâve been looking for their creators, it assumed. Yet, it brought them back to the original question. Where would they have went?
The red doors were the biggest thing that stood out to V1. They were wide open. They looked to be leading into somewhere deep, somewhere that hadnât been included into its database. It could look there as a starting point, but something felt off. Those doors, whatever they were made of or wherever they led to, felt threatening. It was almost comparable to a fly landing into the maw of a venus flytrap, waiting for its prey to place itself in its mouth and then swallowing it whole. V1âs wing blades shivered.
The machine stopped itself in its tracks. A clothing shop it didnât pay attention to before made it curious. It had a select few memories of its creator speaking about fashion to their colleagues. It didnât interest them much at first. It couldnât get interested with fashion. It was a war machine, made with special plating so it could soak up blood from whichever robot had the bad luck of being in its path. Clothes would be counterproductive, as it would shielding and soaking up the blood instead of feeding it to V1âs system. There was no point to it. Now, it had an infinite fuel tank and nothing to stop it from shoplifting if it liked the clothes. Who would be there to judge it? God? Oh please, as if the guy actually existed!
Without a care in the world, V1 entered the store and browsed the several aisles. Some articles of clothing made it raise a metaphorical eyebrow. Certain pairs of pants seemed way too tight to be comfortable. Some shirts looked too constricting, if not outright uncomfortable. V1 was certain that the menâs section was not worth the headache. If the clothes werenât too tight, then theyâd too loose. Some of the designs, in its rightful opinion, looked plain boring. The worst part of it all had to be the lack of backless options. How could it ever wear a shirt if its wing blades couldnât have enough room to breathe?
The womenâs section was more passable. It wasnât the biggest upgrade, but at least the designs looked good. It did see a few backless options in the dresses, but they hadnât struck interest into the machine. It then landed on a knee length dress. It was white, backless and decorated with candy red embroidery at the hem of the skirt. V1 couldnât make out the specifics, but they seemed to be flowers. Which ones were they? It didnât know. Nobody had spoken about plants near it for it to learn anything on the subject. The skirt was the thing that excited V1 the most. It appeared to give a lot of leg room for movement. Plus, it had pockets. Who wouldnât want pockets?
Finding an available changing room was rather easy. Trying the dress on was easier said than done though. V1 had to be careful not to rip something because of its plating. Thankfully, this dress had what the machine believed to be called a haltertop with red strings to tie the top part around its neck. It wouldnât need to worry much more about tearing the dress by accident. Finally, the machine took a good look at itself. It posed once or twice. It turned around to get a good view of the back. It even twirled around to see how the skirt part would spin.
After much consideration, V1 declared to itself that this was the perfect dress, but it needed more flair. The middle part of the dress felt like something was missing and the machineâs wrist felt oddly naked. The counter had a few different sets of jewelry. The necklaces and earrings didnât particularly interest V1. It didnât have ears in physical sense and thought the necklaces would get in the way. A set of bracelets did seem to be taking its attention. A few seemed to be made of brown leather and some others were red and gold drawstrings. It took a mixed pack of them. A little further into the shop were belts, all with something unique about them. The one that V1 liked the most was a similar red to the red drawstring bracelets and flower detailing on the dress. The drawstring bracelets were a little difficult to adjust. Itâd be infinitely easier if it had a mouth. The belt and leather bracelets were quickly added shortly after the eternal suffering that was drawstring jewelry. It took a few steps back.
Holy fuck.
It was even more perfect. Those people who said you couldnât improve perfection were full of shit. The belt was adjusted so well. It wasnât too tight nor too loose. It hugged and shaped the dress to V1âs body phenomenally. The bracelets were super cute. V1 whirred at the word âcuteâ. Why did it sound so nice? Itâd figure it out later. For now, they were going to skip away and find something else to do.
There was a lot of time it could afford to spend, now that it wasnât afraid of Death looming around the corner.
ââââ
Strolling about showed that there wasnât much to do.
V1 could pick up a few books in the library and read, but it didnât feel up for it. The parks were really nice to look at, but there werenât any people to chat with. The bowling alley was very fun, but it got boring after a while of trying to beat every new high score. V1 couldnât eat like a normal person, so there wasnât a point in visiting any restaurants. Additionally, there was this off putting sentiment that resided everywhere the machine went. The lack of human beings existing in these spaces was very apparent. At this point, V1 couldnât stall any longer.
It had to go into the lionâs den, as much as it dreaded the idea.
The walk back to the red doors felt like it lasted 50 years. Fear came back to rear its ugly head. V1 didnât miss the feeling. It wasnât that the machine couldnât defend itself. The venus flytrap analogy came in mind again. V1âs wing blades shivered. Would it even be able to get out when it would go in?
It almost tripped as it stepped onto a slippery object. Cursing whatever it was seemed rather appropriate, but V1 didnât once it saw what it was. It was a similar vial to the one it shoved into its chest. The machine picked up the accursed object and pocketed it for future use. Who knew if itâd get to meet its successor? It had heard of one up and running while it was stuck in the facility. If it was as similar to it as its creator would claim, then surely it would have a similar emergency vial of blood in its chassis that ran out too.
As the building that housed the red doors came into view, V1 stood and stared at the damned things. Before it could start second guessing itself, it ran into the building and through the red doors. It couldnât afford to think. A hole was in middle of room the infernal doors lead to. V1 didnât hesitate before jumped right into it.
Wherever this pit would lead, the machine hoped it wouldnât be to this thingâs stomach.







