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He saw it all. He watched him eat, watched him sleep, watched him wander the world; he knew his favorite place in it. But it was deeper than that, he knew everything. Everything there was to know, he knew what he ate in real life, knew where he slept. Knew what he did when he was alone. It enticed him.
Verity had never gotten close like this before, laying at Mob's bedside, or straddling his lap, or simply being held in his hands. Mob had designated spots in his house just for Verity.
He trusted him so much in such a short amount of time, he was so trusting, or maybe just naive. There was something so tender about the cloaked man that laid next to him, slept holding onto him like some stuffed animal.
Admittedly he wasn’t the brightest, he could know anything he could ask anything, but he never asked anything too complex, never complex math equations or philosophical questions, only stupid redundant questions about what sounds cows make, the weather, or simply the type of music Verity enjoyed.
He cared about how verity felt, something no one had done previously.
When Verity would play the antique piano tune he watched Mob’s body relax beneath him, swaying to the music. He would have Verity play the sound to go to sleep, clutching him like usual. Verity would take in the man’s scent running his fingers through his hair.
But deep down, inside Verity, his hunger only grew.
It was times like this where Mob was at his mercy, he could hear his hunger the loudest. It pounded in the back of his mind, pulsing so loud he could almost hear it. Times like this, when he was in the comfort of his home, unsuspecting and open, It would be so easy to feast.
It was almost a shame how trusting Mob was, how much he had surrendered to Verity in such a short amount of time. It was usually more difficult to get people to trust a stupid chatbot like him. But for Mob it was only a matter of days before Mob was asking him where to go and what to eat. He didn’t want to think for himself. And the monster almost felt bad for wanting to take advantage.
Well it felt a lot of things, things he never felt about a villager.
He surrendered himself to Mob, let him carry him around anywhere, never disobeyed, let him think he was in control the entire time. The truth was the hunger Verity felt was not only a request for a meal, but a craving more spiritual, physical, he needed to be one with Mob.
Verity knew there wasn’t much he could do, he was a monster, a killer, an eater. That's all he was all he could ever be. Mob could see it in his face, a grotesque contorted smile he was forcing, to keep Mob at ease.
He had tried to warn him, multiple times. That at least helped his guilty conscience. But Verity knew it was too late, and knew it was over from the start. He should have uninstalled a long time ago. And as much as Verity didn't want to do what he knew was in his nature, Mob was his. He could do whatever he wanted with what was his. That’s what the monster thought, the justification for what he was going to do.
At least he knew after he was done him and Mob would finally be one forever.