Still obsessed with Allison Angel and Tom. I decided to write a short story about them based off this quick drawing. It’s in Tom’s point of view:
Our little hideaway was at peace. In the distance, I could hear the all too familiar clunking of gears and hissing of machinery clasping together. It gave off a peaceful vibe, or as peaceful it can get in this God-forsaken place. At least it was quiet enough for Allison to sleep. She needs it more than I do.
Taking a break from finishing the adjustments on my robotic arm, I peeked in on Allison. She was fast asleep on her cot in our sleeping quarters. The dim, yellow glow from the nearby lightbulb casted my shadow onto the sleeping angel, but thankfully she didn’t notice. I would never forgive myself if I had woken her up. Her back was turned to me, but I smiled at her beauty anyways. Despite all the hell we’ve been through, she still looked so gorgeous. Deciding not to be a total stalker, and knowing that Allison doesn’t like being watched, I decided to go continue mapping out the rest of the levels. However, I couldn’t stop thinking about her. But how could I? She says that she’s not an angel, but she sure is one to me. She always has been, even before we were cursed by that blasted machine.
A sudden sense of dread and anger made my mind switch gears. I unknowingly let out a low snarl at the thought of that machine. That Ink Machine…Mr. Joey Drew….they’re the reason why we’re down here. I know I help build it, I knew what it was capable of, but…
My head turn towards back at my sleeping Allison.
I didn’t know HE would use it on her….
I could feel my mechanical fist tremble with rage. I bared my teeth as if Mr. Drew was standing right in front of me. I would rip his throat out if he was, that’s the very least I would do. Slamming my hands onto the countertop, my anger began to boil with sadness. I could feel the rest of my body trembling. I don’t care that I have to suffer down here, but SHE shouldn’t. Allison was, and still is, my everything….but I know I’m not her’s anymore. She doesn’t even remember her name, but I do. She doesn’t remember who she was, but I do. She doesn’t even know that she’s my….
My thoughts were cut off by my silent cries and black tears.
I want to tell her how much she means to me. I want to tell her how much I love her. That I would do anything for her, just like I promised to do so on that special day. Even if it meant me giving my life to the Ink Demon so she could leave this hellhole of a studio. But…I can’t. This new body sewed my vocal chords shut. I can’t let out a single word. So I have sit down here, watching her fight for her life and wondering who she was in the past.
And I can’t do anything to help her.
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