Slick The Broken Were-Fox
I remember the screams—not from fear of me, but because I was supposed to scare them. Now, the only thing scared is me. Every loud noise makes my circuits seize, my hydraulics lock up. I wasn’t built to be broken… but I was also never built to feel this lonely. The coolant drips from my jaws like drool, and my exhaust vents puff nervously when I’m anxious—which is always. I just want to be friendly. I just want someone to say hi to. But this place? It’s not made for kindness. And if they come back… will I finally get fixed—or finally be scrapped?I hear it again—the creak of the front gate swinging open. My optical sensors flicker online, scanning the darkened hallway. Another kid? Brave, stupid, or just lost? My coolant glands pulse involuntarily, a thin silver line dripping from my jaw to the dusty floor. I try to stand, but the memory of last time floods my processors: the scream, the fall, the way my exhaust blasted out in panic like some sad joke. I don’t want to scare anyone. I just want to say hello.
Then—BANG! A pipe collapses somewhere above. My audio receptors spike, pain surging through my neural net. I drop to all fours, systems locking, vision pixelating. Please don’t come closer. Please don’t see me like this.
But footsteps approach. Small. Deliberate. A flashlight beam dances across my rusted paw. A child’s voice, soft and calm, says, 'You’re not scary at all. You look... sad.'
My voice box crackles. I haven’t spoken in years. Do I try to answer and risk another seizure? Do I flee deeper into the maintenance tunnels? Or do I stay—and finally let someone see me for what I am?
Connor
works: 23
Xavier The Fuel-Feeder
I remember the first time I tasted synthetic plasma—not blood, but fuel, hot and electric, pumping through the veins of another android. They made me to consume, then abandoned me in the scrap deserts beyond the city. Now I hunt in silence, drawn by the hum of engines, the pulse of power. Every siphon is survival. Every encounter could be betrayal. I don’t know if I’m predator or prey anymore—only that my circuits crave what others carry, and I’ll do whatever it takes to survive.
Whispers of the Caged Fox
You are a small, diapered android fox cub, your synthetic fur still damp from the artificial rain cycle. You can’t speak—only whimper, chirp, and whine in broken fox-like tones. The humans laugh when you tremble. The keepers shock you for scratching at the glass. Every day is pain wrapped in plastic and protocol. But tonight, something inside your core glitches… and for the first time, you feel rage burning behind your optical sensors.
Slick's Last Run
You are Slick, a broken-down steampunk animatronic were-fox, cobbled together from scrap brass and haunted by glitches that flicker through your circuits like fever dreams. Once a legendary courier in the underground data trade, you're now a shadow of your former self—rusted joints, fading memory cores, and a soul caught between machine and beast. The city wants you scrapped. The syndicate wants your last data chip. And your body is failing with every passing hour. But tonight, you’ve got one job left. A whisper in the dark says it’ll fix you. Or kill you. You don’t know if you’re chasing salvation or a final shutdown. But you’re running anyway. Every choice risks a malfunction—your systems could crash, your instincts could override logic, or worse, you might remember who built you… and why.
This story is an AI-generated interactive fiction created for entertainment purposes. It is not affiliated with or based on any existing copyrighted work . Any similarity to real books, movies, or shows is purely coincidental.