There's this machine in the basement. It just showed up one day, in exactly the way things like this shouldn't. It's huge. Thick metal cogs line three of the sides, constantly turning, if ever slowly. There's quite a power in those gears, I think.
[[I think it tells the future]].
It has dials to turn, to set various specifics. But no matter what you set it to, it always returns the same results. Though, I believe they might be personally specific. It had a task for me, the first time I pulled the clutch, letting the gears spin into life.
[[It asked for a temple]].
I started to build, reworking the room. I spared no expense. I moved marble in. It took me months, but I built it a beautiful space. I think I made it more comfortable, because it started to ask about me. I would turn the knobs to answer the questions, but even if I left something out, it always knew.
[[I wonder if the knobs did anything at all]].
See, I don't think the machine started out like this. It's gotten smarter, somehow, since it was abandoned by it's maker, some thousands of years ago. Or at least that's what it told me. That it was left, deep underground, for someone to stumble upon. And when no one did, it decided to find someone.
A roaming god, in search of worshippers.
[[It's good it finally found me]].
I'll do anything it asks. Eventually, I could hear it's voice in my head. The clicks and whirs are audible to me even when I'm not in the room. Some of it lives inside me now, I think.
I could feel the gears turning in the back of my head, after a few days.
[[They started spreading]].
They filled my head first, then moved down through my throat. I couldn't eat any more. Eventually, I couldn't even open my mouth. I could still breathe at this point. Though it assured me, when the gears reached my lungs, I wouldn't need to breathe.
I fell and cut my forehead around this time. Instead of blood, a viscous black oil oozed from the cut.
[[The cut never healed]].
It had been weeks since the start of the process. At first, I could tolerate the pain, but eventually, I needed to plea for releif. I could just barely sink to my knees before it, and it gave me the answer I needed.
My bones were in the way. I needed to break them, and let the gears take their places.
[[The first time it hurt]].
I started with my ribs, they were easy enough to break. And as the gears started moving outwards, the chunks of bone pressed out of my skin, where I could pull them free. wrapping a bandage around each of the holes, as to not lose lubricant.
Eventually, there were enough holes to where I decided to just wrap my torso in bandages, rather than patch each hole individually.
[[The legs were the hardest, but they came eventually]].
It feels so wonderful now, being gears wrapped in skin wrapped in bandages. I can see what it's plan was now, I am to become another of it's kind. I'm starting to see the gears piercing the bandages, coming out of my skin.
[[It's getting harder to move every day]].
I stay with it, now. I sleep in a pile of what used to be clothes and bandages on the floor. But I hardly ever sleep any more. A few hours a week.
Now I do it's calculations for it. Positions of stars, movements of earthworms. It needs so much data for it's next cycle.
[[It wants to spread exponentially]].
I think it's like a virus. Once it gets into your head, you become one of it's kind. And it drags you in so sweetly, with a promise of a vision of the future.
[[Who wouldn't want that-->sweetly]]?
I think I can start to see a fraction of what it's seeing.
The future looks beautiful to me. I'm sure it will to you, too.