Work Text:
Centuries. That’s how long you’ve been trapped. Not only physically, but mentally. If only you could die. Let this life end, and live in peace…
But you can’t.
No matter what you do, every time you die, you’re put back in a shell. A metal form. With silicone features, metal claws, and bright glowing eyes you sure look human. Somewhat human, anyways.
But it isn’t you, It will never be you.
You are not this shell. You’re just trapped in it. And even if you’re more resilient, more agile, and more resistant than a human, you still are one. You know this isn’t you, and yet it is. The only thing that you can do now is kill. There’s no point in enjoying the world.
You’re not human.
And in a sad irony, you give your victims what you long for the most. The release of death. It must be so nice for them to die, to finally be free.
Something you’ll never have.