Xenomega Gallactic Prison

T'was the moment before madness, in the prison a fight. The man tried not to react, and to stand still with all his might. But as he could, his would would tell him so. And to the chaos, he wanted to go. With a shiv under his bed, and without a heart. The man wanted to go out and take the machines apart.

"DID SOMEONE SAY TACO?" the man said with haste. And with but his skull, would lay the drone to waste. "HOLY SHIT FUCK I WANT A TACO." he would proclaim, and with his fist to the wall, a hole would be made . . .

"I'MA COMMIN FOR YAAAAAAAA!!!" Skullface began to savagely beat at the wall of his cell, ignoring the open door left for him. With bloodied hands he would break away at the metal walls. He was a man without pain, without regard for his own safety. And now, would destroy everything in his way to get what he wanted. And in this very moment, was a taco.

With a hop and a skip, and a leap and a jump, everyone around would hear the vents go thump thump. . . But in any case, he ran with rage, tired of letting MOMO keep him in his cage. An escape attempt has never been on his record, only mayhem and guards dismembered. But it was a time of firsts and nothings. And when he got to the cafe he would have his something. He was a not a man of peace, but war. And when he got his taco, he would eat until there was no more.

But who was to say if he would cooperate. Who was to say who he fought for. Who was to say what kind of taco, or why he didn't use the door.

It was going to be over soon. It would all be over soon.

He could smell the ruins of his last meal spread along the walls and the floor. He could feel the mayhem unravel within the confines of this massive birdcage. His face pressed against the vent window. His fingers carefully wrapped around the frail metal grates that kept him away from it all. He couldn't take it anymore. His entire life was kept behind some wall, some window. He could always see, or hear the other side. For so long he was put on a leash and succumbed to bring numbing activities. But not this time. This time he was the one with the pen, and he would write his story the way he intended.

With a push, and man would find himself falling below, a metal grate in one hand, and a piece of scrap metal in the other. He did not care for sides. He had no plans to exit this prison. He had no goals of mayhem or death, he wished simply for a taco. He would remain there, crouching, looking around, only to find cafeteria bots discarded, pieced, and thrown around the room. Not a single shell left unbroken, not a single piece of salsa left unspilled. He could not contain himself. He did not listen to the words of the man. He leaned over, looking at the discarded piece of his planned last meal. The meat poured out, the shell soft from exposed sauce, the cheese cold, and . . .

"For weeks I went without murder. For weeks I went without theft. For the longest time I obeyed and behaved." His face nearing the food that once was. His face becoming level with the ground, his eyes fixated on the food that was not delivered. "I listened to MOMO. I used my manners." His tongue would slowly emerge from his mouth, only to extend towards the present that was never given. It would touch the cold ground. It would drag along the ground, taking in every aspect of it, as well as every organism that lived on that floor up until that moment. Pieces of the destroyed taco would be wrapped up in his serpent-like appendage, caressed and being brought back to the man's mouth.

"Now people die." His eyes looked at the closest living thing. He didn't know who broke the shells, but he was going to break some spines.

One can only eat mystery meat for so long.

He could never catch a break. Never in a hundred years would anything be feesable to his needs.

"If I kill them, can I at least get food first?" He would glare at the collective lot of them. But with no eyelids, it was hard to tell what expression he did hold at that moment. He just wanted one thing, and the one thing he wanted, the guards and prisoners destroyed. He didn't care what needed to be done, he was ready to do it for the sake of change.

Change.

That was one thing that seemed to tap on his shoulder every night as he lay in his cell, his eyes never seeming to close. Sleep always escaped him it seemed. Change seemed to beg him to do something, to notice a slight difference, but it would never come. Days turned into weeks. Weeks into months. Months into years. So much time trying to obey and be obedient. But there was no change. It never changed. His life would never change.

Not until now.

His arms extended, he would point at the wall the robots had collided against. He would begin to point at various random points at the wall, almost in a comedic manner. He was ready to break, but even so, he felt his leash being pulled once more. All he wanted was an extra foot of space so he would get his meal, but it would seem futile. His mind begun to teeter on a fence. On one side sat depression and sorrow, a broken man who would live in solitude and without free will. On the other side, stood a raged filled savage beast who was ready to eat people and tear beings limb from limb if it meant getting to his goal. And the only one who could choose his fate, was a simple voice that dictated everyone's lives.

"My food, is all over the wall. he would say. "Your guards can't protect a taco, and you expect me to believe they can protect me?" He wasn't sure if his soul would make him break out into savagery, or into tears. "It's not murder if it's done in the name of justice." he would say, "But if even that's a lie, then all of your guards and officers are murders, aren't they?"

If he had eyelids, he would have narrowed his view at the others. but he was a man with no flesh. But that did not change a thing about his eternal hunger.