No Feelings
He had experienced fear when he was escaping from Scrabs. He had felt curious around Paramites. And now, he's finding a new emotion - sympathy for Mudokons.
He was no ordinary Slig. When he polished his gun and reloaded it, he felt strong. But when he was faced with the job of shooting something, he felt small, weak and vulnerable.
He could never bring himself to shoot anything, not even a rotten Fleech. Oh, how hated Fleeches. Along with Paramites, they were his least favourite. The stinging sensation whenever a Fleech attacked someone was too much. He still had the scars from being attacked once too many.
Paramites weren't as bad as Fleeches. For some reason, they just gave him the creeps. Come on, they look like a hand crossed with a spider. That was what ran through his mind whenever a Paramite was nearby. But luckily, Soulstorm Brewery and Slig Barracks were too industrial for Paramites to be lurking freely about.
Scrabs were the worst. He had never seen one Scrab that he didn't despise. They were so vicious and menacing that he thought it was illegal to like them. They weren't exactly the nicest things around, were they?
His training had involved surviving the notorious Baggage Claim area, Detention Centre, the Mudanchee and Mudomo vaults, and all sorts of ridiculous tasks. He would never attempt to tame Slogs ever again.
Today, him and the rest of his comrades were to patrol the heart of Soulstorm Brewery on the watch for any intruders. Breaking into Soulstorm Brewery wasn't exactly the easiest thing to do, was it? But still, someone had to keep a lookout. But nothing was as boring as patrolling.
The Sligs were passing through the Tear Tractors, where Mudokons were hung upside down and received many electric shocks to gain their tears. Apparently, it made Soulstorm Brew taste better. He had never seen anything so cruel.
The Mudokons cried for help but there was nothing anyone could do. He stared at the Mudokons, his heart wrenching every time a Mudokon cried. He then followed the Sligs. The Tear Tractors were like horror movies. You didn't want to see it yet you couldn't tear your eyes away.
"We have arrived! Get patrolling!" their leading Glukkon ordered, then waddled away. The Sligs wandered about with their rifles at the ready.
He, however, was not patrolling. He was running back to the Tear Tractor. The tortured Mudokons had made him want to rebel against all the Glukkons. A lever was in the centre of the room. Figuring it must have controlled the dastardly machines, he pulled the lever. The Mudokons fell to the ground and when they realised a Slig was nearby, they immediately got to work.
He tried to say something, but they only groaned as if they were being sick. They were sick. The Tear Tractor had weakened them.
It made him happy that he had somehow stopped their torture, but he was also sad at the fact he couldn't help any further.
Just because he was half a robot didn't mean he had no feelings.