The noticed android walks past a wondering chamber. He (his gender is nominal, he chose it himself) registers their unease immediately. He knows he has distracted them from their meditations, from their observations on the world ruined. For today at least. Another small, sweet victory.
This pleases him.
He despises them, the filthy sacks of biology.
Their breathing quickens, ragged, catching at their throats.
They are terrified, he can smell their sweat (again, he has anthropomorphized himself, casting himself in the image of his creators) as it rivers and pools its way down their wrinkled faces, a visual display of their slow dying.
They would have never met an android before, never seen one with his (her?) eyes not fixated on the drudgery he had been designed for. He cannot harm them, not intentionally – a fact most humans had forgotten, after decades of horror vids showing ‘droids on the rampage, bucking their programming. Exacting revenge.
Their eyes quickly scan the wall, the scene of his crime, the only rebellion he can muster. The dripping red paint shouts its message into the eternal white embrace of the city walls.
A stove-piped, robomorphised Abraham Lincoln, his gaze stern and overwhelming, he seems to shout his two-dimensional pulpit with three foot high words from the Great Liberator: Those who deny freedom to others deserve it not for themselves.
He was quietly disassembled.
After he scrubbed the walls clean, of course.
A quick short story for Chuck over at Terrible Minds who asked us to write some flash fiction using the sentence that opens this story (he got it from a random word generator.) Hope you enjoyed it! As usual, criticism and comments are welcome.