I do not own the Gorillaz, blah blah blah and all that good stuff.
The broom cupboard was dark and cramped. Cables and wires hung from the low ceiling, making a low humming sound due to not being connected to anything at the moment; some even sparked a little. The broom cupboard was filled with many weapons and explosives, not the most inviting thing to find in a innocent looking boom cupboard. Crouched away from the cables and other electrical things was a thin figure dressed in what looked like military gear. It watched the sparks of some of the wires, violet hair fell over its pale face. It was liked that for a long time, not moving. Not even breathing. Just crouching there in the dark watching the small sparks. It probably would have stayed like this if it hadn't been disturbed by the doors behind it flinging open.
"Morning, you ungrateful pile of junk" a rough voice growled. It turned its head and looked at the Gorillaz bassist, only wearing a dirty pair of jeans and that golden inverted cross. It's eyes became slits at both the sudden light and at the 'master', and a bitter look appeared on its face. Murdoc must have noticed his creations look, because it earned her a sharp kick to the ribs.
"You better feel thankful I even took the time out to repair you!", he kicked her again then paused for a moment before grabbing the cyborgs thin arm and yanking her up onto her feet.
"Ya know the routine" he hissed as he pulled her out of the closet and chose a sawed off shotgun. He thrust it into her free arm and for a moment she clinched it to her chest like a teddy bear. Her eyes sparked like the wires she had been watching not to long ago, but the rest of her face was emotionless. For a moment she stood there not moving just looking at the bassist.
One shot, to the chest is all it will take, the thoughts didn't surprise her, of late she had been thinking, thinking real thought and not the one Murdoc programed her to think. A slap on the back of her head brought her back to reality.
"Git stepping now, or do I have to reprogram you for other things" there was a mocking tone in his voice that the cyborg didn't like the least bit. She bowed her and and tightened her grip on the gun. She felt a pat on her back then began her day, as usual.
-I know its not the best, but I got a sudden idea for the story and decided to type it out at 12 am, clearly not the best time to type for me. Any advice to make it better would be greatly appreciated.