It's eyes reflected sheer horror, as it's body writhed as if in utter agony. The baby mouse that had trapped its torso between the grate and the heater moved its delicate limbs frantically as I watched it's plight.
The creature continued to scream, unrelenting in his struggle to free himself. In his violent thrashing, he managed to get a leg stuck in one of the small holes in the grating. Unrelenting, he thrust his body forward. The sort of hollow, wet, popping sound the limb tearing from the mouse?s shoulder made seemed to echo; seeping into every corner of the small room, and crawling over every inch of my skin. Bright crimson liquid spilled out, encasing the sheer, shiny grey fur in the thick, black coating. The stench of it immediately hit my nostrils. The creature continued to thrash about unaffected, concerned more about his own life than the loss of limb.
But it's struggle was in vain. Its movement alone could not free it from its prison. It would take much more to unlock its binds, otherwise it would be dead within a few hours.
I walked away.
I walked away, and I felt no pain. No sorrow, no remorse. The only dissent in my head was bitterness for the fact that I'd be the one cleaning it up in the morning. So what I'm really trying to say is...you were right all along. You all were. I am just the little emotionless robot boy. No feelings, nothing exists anymore in this aluminium casing. You asked me why my eyes had no reflection, why they looked like puddle of oil. Could it be that my soul is gone? Maybe the last part of me that was human died two months ago when my world fell apart. Maybe it was never there, and we were all kidding ourselves all along.
My clockwork heart pumps dust though glass veins. If you could bring me back to life, would it even be worth your effort to try? Does the soul any kind of creature reside here anymore, or am I just a heart-shaped hole?