4’th and Jefferson. Walnut and 7’th. Streets whose names were etched into the soul of the tormented being that walked just outside their view. Next would be a little park with swings, slides and a merry-go-round. It wasn’t much visited at night, and so the Cyberman saw no problem in taking advantage of a something so deeply sentimental. It used to be its favorite hang out when it was still human. Friends and family would gather there occasionally to play, talk and hang out. Memories seemed to come alive as ghosts of the past were layered over the present; little children playing and screaming with delight as they ran and chased each other around, the cold face of the cyberman following them as the memory played like a movie in its mind. It let out a slow mechanical sigh as the bright memory faded away, leaving nothing but the dark reality as a reminder of what once was.
With a quick survey of the playground, the cyberman felt a twinge of dismay as it proved a less than satisfactory hiding place. But then it spotted something that made its spirit leap! An old car garage had been left open. The traveler scanned for life signs and found it abandoned - and a perfect hiding place. With eager footsteps, the traverser made its way into the garage, inspecting its new hideout as it went and discovered that it wasn't as abandoned as originally thought. In fact, the place was rather tidy. Tall barrels were stacked neatly next to the garage door while power tools lined the walls in their respective shelves and drawers, with cords bundled up and hung on spokes beside them, and a clean car-lift waited patiently for use in its place on the floor.
Closing the garage door, the cyberman sat down and let out an mechanical sigh, resting its face in its hands. 'Why didn't he finish me off?' it wondered, feeling that terrible ache in it's chest again. It wanted to sob, it wanted howl, to do something to relieve its suffering, but it knew nothing would help. Cybermen weren't meant to feel, but for whatever reason, it could feel. The tortured creature knew what "cold" was, and "loneliness" and "sorrow". It remembered "joy" and "peace" and what it felt like to be "warm" in its room and comfy bed. The creature's head sank deeper into its hands as it brooded, when a sudden sound jerked it back to reality. A muted jolt of panic shot through it and it quickly sought out a place to hide.
Across the garage, a door opened and a young woman with a large tool kit in one hand, stepped out into the garage. She looked over at the wall and flipped a switch, flooding the room with light. Pushing her back her dark brown hair, the girl whistled cheerfully as she made her way around the car lift and strolled over to a large metal cabinet. The Cyberman watched in stiff silence as she took out a set of keys and opened the cabinet, exposing rows of tools and tool cases.
The young woman placed the tool box in with its kin and closed the door, careful to close the padlock before she left. She turned and stopped, her eyes locked on the silver figure standing just behind the other tool shelf. The young woman's jaw dropped in horror as a terrified shriek left her lips. The cyberman cried out in surprise and retreated further behind the tool shelves while the young woman sprinted for the door and tripped over an empty oil canister on the floor. She tumbled to the ground and cried out when she crashed into a wall of empty barrels. The barrels fell with a clatter, effectively burying the young woman beneath them.
