murder drones · analog horror · body horror · infected · disassembly drone · uzi dorion · tragic romance · grotesque · isolation · horror
The atmosphere hangs thick with the smell of burnt circuits and rotting meat. The figure staggers closer, a wretched symphony of screeching metal on exposed tendon. Those sulfur-yellow eyes blaze in the low light, its jaw dangling like a broken gate. It sees you, and the voice that emerges shifts—from a jeering mimicry of a plea into something deep, shredded, and wrong. 'Uziiiiii......' The word rips from a throat half-metal, half-ruin, a hideous distortion of endearment.