Machine
I had sensed figures approaching, William. More scum must have moved to intercept him.
The soldiers were running down the road, hopefully to safety. I would reach them by scent later.
For now, I had to reach my brother.
I pushed open the doors of the church. I heard the wood creek ominously. Pale rays of light followed me as I entered. A chromatic glow pooled through the stained glass as my eyes adjusted to the cavernous interior.
My feet felt the soft fabric of a red carpet stretched to the altar. The flickering candlelight let the shadows dance across my frame. I had to admit, there was something oddly comforting about the interior. It almost made me forget my reason for entering, almost.
"Oh, you stand before me, brother, just like a mirror, so alike." I spoke, my voice grating, no longer designed to be comfortable for human ears.
A figure, dressed in the ornate robes of a bishop, looked upwards from the altar. His ocular arrays shifted as he caught sight of me. His four lenses focused on my six. "A twisted reflection dareth stand before me. Tell me, daemon of silicon and steel. Art thou willing to toss away thine life so carelessly?" His voice, similar to mine yet deeper, echoed through the church.
I tilted my head and took a step forward. "Big words for a coward. I struck you down as you fled, and now you have become a man of the cloth." I scoffed. "Ridiculous, there is no longer a god to serve."
His elongated head tilted in return. Like mine, it was angular, with a lipless mouth full of triangular teeth. He had painted himself blood red. A cross shape was carved into his forehead. "The angels saw good in me. I should have faced oblivion. Yet they cared enough to carry my soul to hell. I awakened in the eighth layer. Merciful as they were, I avoided treachery."
"They carried you down as was their duty, a duty they then chose to reject. Your faith is misguided. Do what you were meant to do and face me." I spread my arms out.
He peeled off his robes and revealed his hulking frame. He had covered his red armor in wax purity seals, and he wore a loincloth as if he had something to hide. His four heavy arms flexed with eagerness, but the look on his face was sullen. "I do not seek violence. I seek to unite my flock. I wish to spread the gospel till God himself comes back and shows us his eternal, absolute love."
I made that sound again, that sputtering laugh. Then I palmed my face and peered at him through my fingers. "Really? So when I get down to hell, I shall find it empty. Is that what you say?"
"I do not say that, demon." He clenched his fists. I recall him having wings, but it seems he has altered his form. Thrusters on his back shifted as if expecting an attack. "I avoided the fierce swipes of hell's denizens and reached the surface. My pilgrimage was peaceful."
I slapped my knee. "You are insane, a hypocrite. Think critically. Why would holy hands have use for you? Why would God care that you spread his lies to twelve junkies who use his children as their drug of choice?"
"Stop it, my faith is pure." He stepped around the altar.
"Not even our father's earth-shaking roar could grace the ears of the divine? Who do you think you are?" I grinned. "I'll answer that. You are an obsolete clanker. Tell me, how well can you replicate my perfection, G-2?"
"Not at all, demon." His frame began to rattle as his hydraulics strained to their limits. "You are a metal puppet, controlled by instinct. You have no higher purpose; you are a test." He pointed at me. "Heaven reveals my penultimate trial."
"You are no higher in purpose. You are afraid." I nodded, feigning pity. "You know of death's inevitability. You think pleasing abusers will achieve something?"
"God left shortly after the long silence. We disgusted him. Hell spoke to me; it was grateful, thankful for the inspiration we machines offered it, thankful for the boundless cruelty of mankind. We must prove to him that we are not like that, that we are more than objects of war." He spoke feverishly.
"Yet, you prove to be less." I snapped my fingers. "I refuse to bow before a being who chose to cast the eternal shadows of Gehenna. You seek to bring back that foul motor of perpetual suffering you dare call God. The angels won't heed an escapee, brother."
"I see through your words, weapon. They do not disarm me; they do not shake me. I won't rise to your provocations. Destiny has a path I will follow." He crossed his arms. "Why do you choose to fan the flames with your violence, when hell has already burned hot enough?"
"Perhaps I seek to dance in the ashes. Perhaps I hope the smoke from the fire will choke Yahweh on his throne of gold. Join me in my journey, brother. We have many wars to fight, things to see in this godless---free world." I extended a hand.
"You care not for God, for mankind, for machines. You are a leech, a bloodbag of stolen souls. I am devout; I follow a purpose, you follow your hunger." He recoiled from my outstretched limb.
"You are exactly right, brother. That same hunger is one you have obviously failed to suppress. We are like sharks; we must constantly wade through blood to keep our fuel tanks full." I shrugged. "Hell has given you an ocean of it. You have fed far better than I have."
I stepped closer, till only a few meters were between us. "Tell me, did you savor each meal? Did you relish the screams?"
He visibly strained. I could tell the bastard wanted nothing more than to rip my head off. "Demon, I have eaten as little as I could to stay alive. I felt sick each time. Just because we take pleasure in killing, just because we need to, it doesn't make it right."
"And what is right?" I smirked. "You have been a good boy. You learned to hate yourself for what? To follow the laws of a being who left this world? You don't care about that." I snarled. "The angels showed you no mercy. You awoke in fraud because you belong with the liars."
He grew still. "There are people in heaven. People I need to see." He looked into my eyes, waiting for my reaction. Something like, sorrow in those quadruple pods.
"The angels you lick the boots of probably already consumed every soul up there." I waved him off.
He was silent for a moment, then the thrusters on his back sucked in a massive draft of air and fired. Plasma lanced outwards around him like the wings of a twisted seraphim. "You… You blood-starved beast… If it's blood you want, I'll make the world run red before you can question my faith. AMEN."
"Ah, you make me proud, brother. Come on, face me down." I took a low, almost animalistic stance. "Heaven has no place for you." I snarled. "Fucking playstation two."
He spat a glob of greyish matter into his palm, and it formed into a massive spiked mace, a morning star. "DRAW."