Welcome To The Machine
Everyone knows this: THE MICE AREN'T MINE. Also, thank Pink Floyd for the inspiration; and the following authors for being so kind as to beta read this for me: Whipblade, Wolfie Steel and Inuficcrzy. This is for you three; who keep me going with your sound advice.
The constant sounds in his head were driving him crazy. He crashed to the floor, wondering if anyone else could hear what he could. He was seeing fantastic, other worldly shapes; which horrified and entranced him at the same time. He knew he was part of it: A colossal machine, that crushed and maimed everyone in its path; that tore families apart; that was fuelled on the countless lives that had been sacrificed to it; their blood oiling the mechanisms.
He whimpered and yelled as the machine came closer; for if he could name the machine; he thought he could stop it. It was hideous; it towered over himself, his family, and everything around it; sand and dust being stirred up in it's wake. He watched as his dreams; ideas he'd cherished since he was a kit, shattered like fragile glass in front of his eyes. Finally, it came to him: The Machine was War.
War, which destroyed families, innocent lives, the minds of the most resilient people; it degraded everyone down to their most basic and terrible components. He knew why he was fighting, but it had been going for so long; he was ready to crumble. He just wanted the pain; the suffering; the torture and death to just end. Was that so much of an ask? To stop the massacre of millions of lives?
He screamed out the name, but the machine didn't stop. He tried to flee from it; but the machine was always going to catch him sooner or later. All he could hope was that he could stop it. Eventually; he had no choice. He was going to be killed by it. The brave mouse then climbed to the highest point he could. The machine towered over him; it's intricate gear systems in plain sight. He took one last look around the barren desert he'd called his home for so long; then threw himself into it with all his might.
He landed on a giant conveyor belt; which pulled him away from the sun, and into the darkness within. He looked around, and he saw the mutilated sections of mice before him. His eyes went wider then he thought possible; but then he noticed it: a giant cog, nearly 20 feet wide; with teeth every 6 inches. He tried doing the sums in his head; but he couldn't figure the total out. The conveyor belt drew him closer and closer. He could now see deeper into the bowels of the machine; the blood of the mice before him was oozing in between the teeth of gigantic cogs; dripping onto the large shafts above him and was the liquid in the see-through hydraulic rams.
He took one last look up at the massive cog; before the teeth began to rip him apart. He roared and thrashed around in pain as he felt his legs disintegrate; his body slowly being crushed by the gigantic machine. He knew he was destined to end up as a part of it; but damnit, he was going to go out fighting. He thrashed around; eventually getting free. He managed to crawl off the conveyor belt; his useless and crushed legs hanging behind him; like two cuts of meat. He kept crawling, then slipped off the edge as a deluge of blood cascaded down the slippery metal.
He couldn't get a grip anywhere, no matter how much he tried. As he fell through the air; the last thought he had was of his two friends; the best he'd had in his entire life. When he finally landed; he landed in the worst place possible: a pit of rotating cogs, with teeth as sharp as razor blades. With a howl of pain; he watched as nearly his whole body disintegrated before his eyes; his blood lubricating the cogs below him...
Throttle woke with a scream in the empty scoreboard; before cradling his head in his hands. "What in the name of the gods did I just see?" He shouted as he rushed out of his hammock. The feel of the cool wood floor against his feet helped to drive away the pounding headache that was forming as he went down the stairs and into the modest kitchen Charley had helped them install a few weeks back. On the table was a note.
Hey bro,
We've gone for a late night patrol.
You looked in too deep a sleep to be disturbed.
See you soon,
Vinnie and Modo.
PS. Charley thought you might like it.
Throttle stared confusedly at the note; then noticed a cassette tape on the floor. When he picked it up; the skin beneath his fur went white as a sheet, and he rode out of the board as though his life depended on it.
The tape was labelled: Welcome To The Machine