{ John e Normal }
pseudo intellectual
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The Machine 26 日 02 月 2010 年
The machine was no longer moving. It lay on its side, with its belly exposed, wires and components hanging out.

I looked across the debris field at the dismembered alien torsos and I listened for signs of life. The air was still and quiet, and the stink of fresh blood filled my nostrils

I took several steps toward the machine and crouched again. Its mandibles had been retracted back into the cavities around its rim. I could hear it faintly humming. Soft lights blinked behind its translucent shell.

I stepped toward it and reached for the exposed cables in one of its wounds. The air was pierced by a deafening hiss of hydraulics as it lurched upward. I skated sideways, but one of its talons caught my shoulder and lacerated me. The talon squirted toxins into the wound as I jumped backward. The white heat of pain radiated through my body, I had only minutes before paralysis would grip me.

I lunged forward and plunged my hand into the wound in its abdomen. I ripped at every component I could grab.

It threw me from side to side, and staggered in circles. My body throbbed and my hand was being cut and burnt by every device I dislodged.

I was thrown sideways in the air as I broke a tube filled with gas and oil. The machine flailed and then fell forward into the dirt. Its talons dug into the soil and dragged the torso toward me. The lights dimmed and the hum diminished, and then it fell limply to the ground.

All around me the black opaque walls dissolved revealing row upon row of alien faces. All of them writhed and mouthed silent screams behind the inches of glass.

I could hear nothing but my own heart pounding.

I had survived another match with their machine.