Sinister Animatronics Novels & Stories

His eyes sparkled in a shady way and he stared at me while trudging closer to me. “Do you know who you are dealing with? Do you have any idea” With his every word, I felt smaller than a particle. So small that it became hard to even breathe properly. “It’s Nikola… Alessandro… Bernardi if you’re forgetting,” He bent to my face, sucking my ability to argue back, “And if you really did, I know how I can remind you,” He stepped into my personal space and I felt suffocated already my heart nearly reached to its highest beating rate. “I can molest you right here… right now… and this time I would need no drugs to sedate you, you will feel all the pain and enjoy every second of it,” He pinned me to

Faced with little choice, they rush inside the room not minding the dangers that awaits them there. The room is dimly lit, and it has an unexplained air of evil, in fact it looks like a miniature torture chamber. Assortments of lethal looking instruments are displayed in their respectable racks while bladed implements adorn the wall. There are jars containing dead animals and body parts floating in foul coloured liquid in a shelf above the desk. “This woman had likings for crystal sculptures,” Don pointed at a cabinet-full of glass heads. These heads have curious features; they are human-like but they sport strange appendages like horns, pointy ears and extra eyes.

"If I go down, I’m taking your 'Mother of Alphas' title with me. I want you to look into their eyes and see nothing but static!" ​The Machine’s Logic ​The automaton stepped through the smoke of the blown-out doorway. It was a terrifying fusion of the Vane-Security-Model-9 and the distorted consciousness of Alpha Vane. Its chest plate was translucent, revealing a miniature obsidian shard pulsing with a sickly amber light. The digital projection of Alpha’s face on its visor was flickering, his features stretching and warping like melting wax.

Raised and animated by the Crimson Sun's vile magic. Adrien skidded to a halt at the edge of the clearing. All the rage drained from his face, leaving behind a hollow, gut-wrenching pain. He knew them. He saw the faces of wolves he'd likely grown up with, trained with, laughed with. Now reduced to puppets for his enemy's cruel theater. The Sounder fell silent, his task complete. The only sound was the faint creak of leather and armor as the animated corpses turned their blank, crimson eyes toward us.

QuickShot: Seeing it face-to-face, this is more than just a giant robot. Easily bigger than the four of us, its arms alone look like boulders. Also, there seems to be no end to the gadgets attached to it. I see blasters, launchers, and other things on the arms and even the legs. "Most of us for the first time," I repeat, holding my bow and arrow in my hands. "It is you." "Yes QuickShot," the man answers, "It is me. Allow me to finally introduce myself. I am Silent, but I am very dangerous."

She moved like a shadow, her silver eyes scanning the darkness. She wasn't alone. From the shadows of a collapsed overhead railway, a figure emerged. It didn't walk; it glided on magnetic-levitation joints. It was a Sentinel Stalker, a specialized model designed for urban pacification. Its head was a smooth, faceless dome of polished chrome, and in place of arms, it had four multi-jointed surgical manipulators. "The Sovereign fragment is property of the Neo-Dividend," the Stalker’s voice synthesizers chirped, a sound like a bird caught in a meat grinder.

“I guess that the fact you are quite a slow witted person might be true after all, given you didn’t realize I changed the scenery. I do wonder why the monster didn’t attack you, though.” I scrunched my lips. Seriously, I am starting to wonder that this Rox guy might also be an oddball like me, seeing as he always talked about a monster this and a monster that. What I saw during my journey of collecting the crystals were a few animatronics that looked like they need a severe repairing. Those springs and nuts protruding out from their exoskeleton might be a hell of a job to get it fixed. Suddenly I felt my gaze fading. I wobbled on my feet and swayed a bit to pick up my stance.

“I will come back later, my love.” “I thought I was the crazy one, Sinister, but you are fucking worse — you are a sociopath.” Sinister plucked him by the arm and pulled him into the hallway. “You'll say nothing to no one. This stays between us.” “OK, but you must clarify to me what Miranda Townsend's embalmed body is doing in your house.”

I was there before but blindfolded, only hearing a few things I couldn’t forget. Hanged on each wall were grills which were entirely full of s*x toys and other sadistic things. I couldn’t help myself but get nervous at the sight. Who would want to be here? At the corner, I saw a mannequin gripping the tight ass of a woman who was sitting comfortably at his length, tongues fighting against each other. I gulped at the sight.

Elara followed, pulling a thick wool robe over her naked, glowing skin, her heart hammering against her ribs. ​“It’s not a hound,” Caleb whispered, opening the latch. ​On the floor lay a Thorne Messenger Automaton. It was a delicate mechanical bird, once a marvel of silver clockwork and Thorne craftsmanship. Now, it was a mangled corpse of metal. One of its wings had been melted into a jagged stump by shadow-fire, and its ruby eyes flickered with a dying, erratic light.