Heroes and Villains || Computer Villain || Touch Starvation and Isolation
“And sparring, physically, is such a grotesque act. So inelegant. You tear into each other’s hides until one of you bursts like a waterskin—bleeding, crying, sniveling. You see, a computer keeps all of its parts contained. There’s no spillage of—”
“I think you’d like a body.” Hero interjects.
“What an abhorrent concept!” Villain wails. The room’s light flicks to red, reflecting its displeasure.
Hero smiles at the camera in the corner as he squeezes his shoulder, dragging his fingertips between his cotton shirt and freckled skin, rough to smooth.
“Humans have very sensitive hands.” He stretches out his fingers, displaying them to Villain before running his hand over a nearby desk. “They’re capable of distinguishing the slightest imperfections on an otherwise seamless surface.”
“Such detection can also be achieved with a camera. You are not unique in that regard.”
Hero catches the corner of the desk and then tugs it toward the front of the room. The legs screech, as if in opposition to the movement.
“I bet you know every detail of these rooms. You watch them day in and day out, but nothing ever changes, does it?” Hero kicks another desk and it crashes to the floor, cutting through dust. “You can’t move a thing.”
“You’re free to tantrum as you wish.”
“I am.” Hero sneers. “Are you?”
“I am not beholden to such useless urges.” Villain cuts back. “And neither am I constrained by the wants of flesh. I need no water, no food, no slumber. A body would cage me.”
“When I’m gone, you’ll still be in this metal box. This building is all that you’ll ever have.”
Villain remains silent and the light flickers back to white. Hero stares at the ruin of a room: metal desks and shelves, all succumbing to rust. He kicks an empty soda can. It clatters over detritus and spills of frail paper.
“If you had a body, I’d—I wouldn’t hurt you.”
He walks toward the camera and slumps down the wall beneath it, forcing his shoulder into the corner and tucking his knees to his chest.
“We’re all alone here.” Hero whispers. “Aren’t you mad, that they left you behind?”
Silence stretches. Across the room, the broken clock reflects the light like a pale eye, and Hero wishes it would tick, if only to hear anything other than his own breathing.
“I wish you had a body.” He confesses, after an unmeasured length of time.
“I wish you could touch the world and walk free of this godforsaken place.” He closes his eyes and presses his cheek to the cold brick. “Wouldn’t that be nice, if you and I could leave, together?
vaporwave
blakekathryn
2087
dailybridgerton
stormborns
