it wishes it could feel, wishes it could sense that squeeze against it’s metallic, newfound ‘body’ —— but even it could not find itself nerves.
but the hate . .
“ you are —— a freak. a pathetic, fucking freak! ”
hands, unable numb to the scales, attempted to grip at flesh.
long coils of serpentine muscle curl around the machine .. slowly.. almost seductively .
“you will never be worthy of anything… you are a glorified toaster oven.”