DISCLAIMER*** If you're keeping up with the story, I think I've made it clear that I don't own Big O. You think that if I did I'd be writing fan fiction?! Heck no! I'd be making my fan fictions into realities and animating them! So, please continue, and don't lose sleep over this issue. Thanks.
Chapter 3 --- Malevolent
Her slender fingers bounced up and down upon the sleek black and white keys. The melody she played was upbeat and rather annoying, yet it radiated perfection and talent, almost to the point of being unhuman… Though that was understandable in her case. She was an android after all, and was built with 'perfection' in mind.
The tune permeated the Smith Household, bringing the once-sleeping Roger into a rude awakening. He groaned in frustration, his irritation obvious. He slammed his bedroom door open, that look of pure annoyance he gave her every morning shining just as brilliantly as ever. What annoyed him even more was that she played that same song every morning to wake him, and, no matter how sincere his pleas, she never ceased to play it.
"Dorothy!!!" He roared. She looked over. "Good Morning, Roger Smith." She said, ignoring his anger. He rubbed his forehead, grumbling, letting out hopeless little huffs. "You're breakfast is cold. I let you sleep five minutes later." Dorothy watched him as she spoke. He glared. "Oh great. Now it's cold…" He mumbled, striding into the dining room, now very much awake. He sat down in his chair, staring at the plate filled with bacon, eggs, toast, and hash browns in front of him… cold. He sighed. "Today's just not going to be my day!" He whined… But he really had no idea how bad it was going to be…
Yes, Roger was off to work. He had to negotiate some case between two life-long rivals, and, just as he'd expected, his day had been going horrible. He'd fell out of his chair earlier, and in front of Dorothy and Norman too. Dorothy had thought the whole situation was comical, though Roger highly disagreed. He then attempted to make himself some coffee, forgetting the silver spoon in the cup and blowing up the microwave. He began to think that all his luck had run out, and maybe it had…
Roger grabbed his sunglasses and put them on, grabbing his suitcase and preparing to head out the door. Dorothy walked in. She was wearing a nice black dress that he'd never seen before. "Dorothy! I've never seen you wear that before!" He exclaimed, pulling his sunglasses down to get a better look. She looked up at him. "I made it. I learned how to sew from your television." He bid her farewell and walked out of the door, making his way to the elevator and finally reaching the bottom floor.
He stepped outside, and immediately, he knew something was wrong. Everything outside was completely still. There was no wind rustling the trees, no birds singing, no stray dogs roaming the sidewalks… Everything seemed… dead. He looked around, hearing strange little clicks. He began to decipher their distinct patterns and rhythms, and… it hit him. There was a bomb in his building.
He wanted to run inside, though he reminded himself, 'That's a bomb! You can't go inside when it's about to blow!' He realized this and began to run the other way. Then, a horrible gut-wrenching thought came to mind. Dorothy was still inside, and so was Norman. His mind was immediately thrown into a flashback. He remembered the first day he'd met Dorothy. She'd asked him to be her bodyguard. What could he do?! The bomb had obviously been planted a few seconds before he'd gone outside, or else it would have already gone off. He'd never make it up to her in time anyway. She was on the 20th floor! "DOROTHY!" He shouted pitifully, hoping that, by some freak chance, she'd hear him. He heard a slightly louder click and his heart stopped.
The whole building in front of him was demolished in an instant, flames and a cloud of black smoke filling the sky. The sound of burning metal on metal almost split his ear drums. The ground shook as if the earth were crumbling, the flames' wrath sending him flying back. He hit hard, though still conscious. The shock hadn't worn off yet. He instinctively ran to look for Dorothy, though he realized this was one job he couldn't accept. If he entered the mass of burning wreckage before him, it would most certain be death for him, and then he would have no way of saving her. He fell to his knees, the tragedy finally sinking in. He'd lost everything. His wealth, his shelter, and perhaps someone so precious to him that he might not ever see the situation truthfully. Sorrow turned to rage, rage turned to shock, all in an instant. He just gazed emptily at the embers, dancing malevolently before him, his eyes wide and unbelieving.
***Ok, ok, that was the tragedy if you haven't already figured that out… =_= Gomenasai ppl, I just love making dramatic and angsty stories! It's much better than lovey-dovey fluff in my opinion. Please review, there's more to come in the next chapter! More secrets to be revealed, so stay tuned!
Chapter 3 --- Malevolent
Her slender fingers bounced up and down upon the sleek black and white keys. The melody she played was upbeat and rather annoying, yet it radiated perfection and talent, almost to the point of being unhuman… Though that was understandable in her case. She was an android after all, and was built with 'perfection' in mind.
The tune permeated the Smith Household, bringing the once-sleeping Roger into a rude awakening. He groaned in frustration, his irritation obvious. He slammed his bedroom door open, that look of pure annoyance he gave her every morning shining just as brilliantly as ever. What annoyed him even more was that she played that same song every morning to wake him, and, no matter how sincere his pleas, she never ceased to play it.
"Dorothy!!!" He roared. She looked over. "Good Morning, Roger Smith." She said, ignoring his anger. He rubbed his forehead, grumbling, letting out hopeless little huffs. "You're breakfast is cold. I let you sleep five minutes later." Dorothy watched him as she spoke. He glared. "Oh great. Now it's cold…" He mumbled, striding into the dining room, now very much awake. He sat down in his chair, staring at the plate filled with bacon, eggs, toast, and hash browns in front of him… cold. He sighed. "Today's just not going to be my day!" He whined… But he really had no idea how bad it was going to be…
Yes, Roger was off to work. He had to negotiate some case between two life-long rivals, and, just as he'd expected, his day had been going horrible. He'd fell out of his chair earlier, and in front of Dorothy and Norman too. Dorothy had thought the whole situation was comical, though Roger highly disagreed. He then attempted to make himself some coffee, forgetting the silver spoon in the cup and blowing up the microwave. He began to think that all his luck had run out, and maybe it had…
Roger grabbed his sunglasses and put them on, grabbing his suitcase and preparing to head out the door. Dorothy walked in. She was wearing a nice black dress that he'd never seen before. "Dorothy! I've never seen you wear that before!" He exclaimed, pulling his sunglasses down to get a better look. She looked up at him. "I made it. I learned how to sew from your television." He bid her farewell and walked out of the door, making his way to the elevator and finally reaching the bottom floor.
He stepped outside, and immediately, he knew something was wrong. Everything outside was completely still. There was no wind rustling the trees, no birds singing, no stray dogs roaming the sidewalks… Everything seemed… dead. He looked around, hearing strange little clicks. He began to decipher their distinct patterns and rhythms, and… it hit him. There was a bomb in his building.
He wanted to run inside, though he reminded himself, 'That's a bomb! You can't go inside when it's about to blow!' He realized this and began to run the other way. Then, a horrible gut-wrenching thought came to mind. Dorothy was still inside, and so was Norman. His mind was immediately thrown into a flashback. He remembered the first day he'd met Dorothy. She'd asked him to be her bodyguard. What could he do?! The bomb had obviously been planted a few seconds before he'd gone outside, or else it would have already gone off. He'd never make it up to her in time anyway. She was on the 20th floor! "DOROTHY!" He shouted pitifully, hoping that, by some freak chance, she'd hear him. He heard a slightly louder click and his heart stopped.
The whole building in front of him was demolished in an instant, flames and a cloud of black smoke filling the sky. The sound of burning metal on metal almost split his ear drums. The ground shook as if the earth were crumbling, the flames' wrath sending him flying back. He hit hard, though still conscious. The shock hadn't worn off yet. He instinctively ran to look for Dorothy, though he realized this was one job he couldn't accept. If he entered the mass of burning wreckage before him, it would most certain be death for him, and then he would have no way of saving her. He fell to his knees, the tragedy finally sinking in. He'd lost everything. His wealth, his shelter, and perhaps someone so precious to him that he might not ever see the situation truthfully. Sorrow turned to rage, rage turned to shock, all in an instant. He just gazed emptily at the embers, dancing malevolently before him, his eyes wide and unbelieving.
***Ok, ok, that was the tragedy if you haven't already figured that out… =_= Gomenasai ppl, I just love making dramatic and angsty stories! It's much better than lovey-dovey fluff in my opinion. Please review, there's more to come in the next chapter! More secrets to be revealed, so stay tuned!