[And perhaps it is hell, or something close to it, so far below the city's surface that even those who dwell in the Underground are largely unaware of its existence, know it only through legends and horror stories, the monsters that creep from the depths and snatch up the Underground's denizens, never to be seen again. That facility at the city's rotten core, where beasts are made and creatures created only to fight and die and be taken apart and used to create something new, or worse, become fodder for the next generation of genetically engineered abominations.
His dreams are always whiteredblack, the screams that echo in his ears the floors and walls coated with blood as his 'siblings' tore each other apart, forced to, at Mother's command. It haunts him down to his very bones, probably always will. Literally hell-- it's not a bad discription.
But he gives no outward sign of it. Observes her with a detached kind of coolness as she makes her incorrect pronouncement. That she can mistake him for human only serves to confound him, to irritate in some minor way because surely it's clear that he's nothing of the sort, just a thing created in human shape. But he chooses not to belabour the point, knows himself even if she cannot, and when her final response comes he barks out a rapidfire laugh, seems at least genuinely amused by it.]
Suit yourself.
[He shrugs, loose-shouldered. Dismissive.]
But look, I'm quite all right. I hope you've satisfied yourself of that, now.
[Quite all right, he says. As if he's ever been any such thing.]
no subject
His dreams are always whiteredblack, the screams that echo in his ears the floors and walls coated with blood as his 'siblings' tore each other apart, forced to, at Mother's command. It haunts him down to his very bones, probably always will. Literally hell-- it's not a bad discription.
But he gives no outward sign of it. Observes her with a detached kind of coolness as she makes her incorrect pronouncement. That she can mistake him for human only serves to confound him, to irritate in some minor way because surely it's clear that he's nothing of the sort, just a thing created in human shape. But he chooses not to belabour the point, knows himself even if she cannot, and when her final response comes he barks out a rapidfire laugh, seems at least genuinely amused by it.]
Suit yourself.
[He shrugs, loose-shouldered. Dismissive.]
But look, I'm quite all right. I hope you've satisfied yourself of that, now.
[Quite all right, he says. As if he's ever been any such thing.]