I am Silver and Exact
I have no preconceptions
Whatever you see, I swallow immediately
Just as it is, unmisted by love or dislike
Edward shuffled across the chamber silently in the dim of the Castle. A blue beam of pale moonlight was shining in through a tall window. Soft gusts of air blew through the curtains gently, giving faint whispers of memory to the unfinished man.
With dark, nearly black eyes he quietly examined the old, silent machines in the main chamber. They had become still and motionless, just like their now deceased creator.
Edward was not quite sure how the idea had come to be in his mind, but it occurred to him that he had never attempted to try and bring these old contraptions back to life.
Starting from one end of the assembly line to the other, Edward slowly walked along beside it while scanning the metal works for any kind of button, trigger or switch. Thus far, there were none to be found.
It was also most inopportune that he had chosen to search for this during the late hours of the night. He could barely see any of the inner workings of these machines in the dark.
However, on the very start of the line, right underneath the piece of track where a large silver bowl sat empty, there was a very dusty yet discernible red button. It took a bit of time for Edward to properly manipulate his sharp, metal talons into just the right position, but eventually, he was able to push one down onto the button.
At first, nothing happened. Only a cold and disquieting silence followed Edward's efforts to bring his creator's machines back to life.
His chin slowly dropped down to his chest as he stared at the floor, becoming nearly motionless himself.
Then, all at once…there was a loud, clanking sound like one thousand metal pins all clashing around inside a deep steel can.
With a slow, stuttering start the assembly line began to move again, along with all of the rusty and red-eyed robots that were attached to it. The larger, sphere-like machines shook and whirred with activity. Large puffs of steam and smoke blew out underneath from their exhausts.
Edward took a few steps back in awe as he beheld the majesty and technical excellence of his father's machines. Every working metal piece moving in harmony with the rest to achieve perfect unison.
He allowed himself a small smile of accomplishment.
Soon enough, several rows of perfectly cut pastries began rolling off the end of the line once again. Edward had to work very fast to snip the ties on the bags at the end to make sure the cookies did not begin to spill onto the floor. Thankfully, his efforts were rewarded in time and the confections began to plop down into the bags.
Out of curiosity, Edward stuck one of his metal shears into the bag and skewered one of the star-shaped pastries. Lifting it up to his mouth, he took a bite but found that it didn't taste quite as he had imagined. It had lost so much of its flavour due to the flour within it having sat un-used somewhere for many decades.
With some difficulty, Edward gently forced the half-eaten cookie off of his metal shear and back into the bag.
He clicked his tongue a few times with a small frown, trying to rid the flavor of spoiled flour from his mouth.
Approaching the worn and dusty old chair by his creator's desk, Edward sat down and watched contently as the machines began to buzz and whirr with life once more.
The sounds of it were familiar and comforting. They eased him back to better days.
Edward was watching with great interest as the Inventor began to fasten his arm to his torso. Strapping belts and buckles over top of one another until they were bound to his leather flesh perfectly. Suturing the final bit to his shoulder with some simple sewing thread, the old man finished his work. Removing his glasses and setting them down beside him, he leaned back and smiled at his handiwork.
"There. Now that's much better, isn't it?"
Edward looked down at his new limb and nodded in agreement. He slowly lifted it up, examining every stitch and patchwork that had been lovingly given to him. He was becoming less of a machine and more of a man with each passing day.
Save for one crucial thing, of course.
At the end of the new appendage were five silver blades where a hand and fingers were supposed to be. He could not do much with it yet. In fact, only one of them seemed to snip properly. But it was better than the absence of a limb, which Edward had grown accustomed to.
"I know it's crude, my boy…. but hands are such…. tricky things." The old man admitted with a faint sigh.
"But these will suffice, hm? After all, you'll only have to wait until Christmas." He promised with a smile.
Edward did not know what Christmas was, but he simply stared back at his creator with an inoffensive gaze.
"It won't be long now, Edward. Your legs are almost done. And then we'll have you up and running around the place in no time. You'll see." The old man chirped with a grin.
Edward affectionately copied it.
Feeling himself slipping back into the present again, Edward began to realize how different he really was from the rest of his father's creations. They smiled but they did not talk. They moved but they were not alive.
There was one machine towards the back corner of the room which Edward thought bore some resemblance to himself. However, it was vague and faceless. It was hard to see a soul within such cold and vacant metal.
All of them seemed to be missing the one thing which Edward knew made him stand apart from them, though he did not quite understand what that something was. Nor could he identify it.
The rustling of paper caught his attention and he looked to his right to find a large book propped up against an easel.
Edward stood up and walked towards it to examine it more closely. He exhaled, blowing a layer of dust off of it and into the air. As the particles floated through the beam of moonlight from the window, Edward struggled to see what the book entailed.
Slowly but surely, he eventually recognized the drawings in the book as himself, down to the most intricate details. Every buckle, every strap, every piece of leather and every stitch had been meticulously conceived through paper and pencil, long before this drawing had manifested itself into a living, tangible form.
As Edward began (with some difficulty) to turn the pages back, he found that the image of himself was becoming harder to recognize until he failed to see himself within it at all. The first drawing was just a metal husk with some leather limbs attached. Edward felt a bit uneasy at its appearance, unable to conceive that it was the skeleton which supported his body.
He flipped the page forward again, this time coming to a page which was much more detailed. Layers of synthetic skin had been added on top of the husk, along with metal gears and other small, various working parts within his chest cavity.
Edward's dark eyes landed upon the most mysterious part of the drawing, which was the slightly circular, red object lodged in the upper left of his body and fastened down with a strap.
Quirking a brow, Edward looked down at himself with curiosity.
He wanted to see what this object looked like.
Slowly raising a metal shear, Edward placed one of the blades under one of the belts that were bound across his chest. But before he could snip it off, a sudden loud sound startled and forced him to look at the machines in alarm.
The cookie assembly had juttered to an unexpected halt. It was likely broken forever, now. Having been suddenly forced back into use after so many years of lying dormant had apparently killed whatever power it still had within its innards.
Edward gave a small sad look towards it. Finding that once again, he was the only one of his father's creations that still worked.