Work Text:
It must’ve had someone it loved, once upon a time. Someone they hadn’t made it kill. Or maybe it loved its handlers in a twisted way. Because every once in a while it started coughing.
The flowers, the files showed, were always the same. Carnations. The asset had been a faggot.
The first times, before the chair worked to its full potential, they’d surgically removed the flowers. Now they just stuck it back into the chair, or did something else to break it, that at least made them feel good
It worked every time.
It worked every time but once.