Quoted By:
๑:
>Snap pictures of the place with a camera or phone. Make a note of how I broke in.
The inside of the factory is so dark that it's the flash from the camera that reveals the truth. Couples and families save up for months or even years on end to go on trips, to make happy memories. Well; Marie-A Desire is doing exactly that right now, each time she presses the screen of her cellphone with a thumb. Cheap, isn't it?
When things get dark inside, Marie will look at these pictures again.
>Look around the area, try to figure out what was being made in this factory before it was in this state.
Having already written the details of she broke into this facility, by sending a message to herself in LINE, Marie turns her cellphone into a flashlight and begins her wandering. A cockroach hides. There's litter on the ground. Her friends would often describe such a scenario in nightmares, or in horror movies they went to see with whoever the fuck they'll be breaking up with next week. As she takes a turn in a dark corner, as the lantern that is her cellphone shows her heavy machines, Marie realizes that she's different. She'd take someone here on a date. She'd show her special someone a hidden world that is only for them.
Going into the big room, the heart (or the stomach) of the place, Marie takes her time bathing every single piece of machinery in light. There's an assembly line of sorts. There are terminals, scattered computers, and some of those super precise robotic arms looming above like overseers. There are no products. No failed results. And even after some serious googling, Marie is still at a loss as to what this system of steel is meant for.
???: Perfection.
๑ Marie: AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA MOTHERFUCKER
She must have said something aloud- because someone heard. Because of her trembling hand, her cellphone fails to illuminate the dark figure that spawned from the depths of the underworld- until her hand remains fixed in place as the very tall, shirtless man holds her wrist. A goatee. A ponytail. The eyes of a man that still rage at people telling him he can't change the world. He flings Marie's arm aside, not too harshly, but not too slowly either, and before she catches him again with the light, the man is gone.
Marie freezes like a lamb under a spotlight.
A few seconds in, every cell in Marie's body, neurons included, had decided that it's high time to clock it the fuck out of there. But then, as if to answer her, the machinery starts, the screens shine, the thick lights overhead turn on- and the shirtless man is staring at her from across that living, breathing, metal goliath of a room.
???: Perfection, dear miss; that is what we produce.
๑ Marie: J-Jesus Christ, who the FUCK are you, I'm sorry, I was just lost, please don't shoot me.
???: Stay.
Marie does; even if it's her life at stake. A deep part inside of her feels like she owes it to this man- who isn't even looking at her as his stabs a screen over and over at lightspeed.
