A/N: Unexpected story-one-shot-thing. Let's just say my life got a bit confusing lately.
Summary: It wasn't created as an object, it was made into one.
Listening while writing: Shadows and Nightmares - Two Steps from Hell
CLAIMER: MINE!!! (new word I've been thought in my new confused life)
"Sensitiveness is closely allied to egotism.
Indeed, excessive sensitiveness is only
another name for morbid self-consciousness.
The cure for it is to make more of our objects,
and less of ourselves."
- Christian Nestell Bovée
Once, there was an Object. An Object wasn't created as an object. No, it was shaped into one. It took Them a while, but together They managed to do it without using up too much energy. And that Object was shaped the way They wanted it, and chained to the wall. It did Their bidding, it helped and most importantly, was unnoticeable – no Object should ever stand out when there were so many more wonderful things to look at and gossip about.
For a while Object opposed, it tried to be like others, but others reminded it that it wasn't, that it was an Object – and while telling it that, They put their coat in its hands for it to put away as a good Object should. So, Object learned a very important rule: to stay quiet.
But quiet or not, Object was still not completed as an object, for Object saw and Object remembered. And Object learned how those that weren't like it acted. And it tried to act as Them. But They wouldn't have any of that. They made fun out of Object and Object was horrified because hearing that was worse than being an Object.
So Object returned to its rightful place. It learned to be quiet, it learned to be unnoticeable and it learned to never speak of itself, because it was an object and an object had no personality. Words "we" and "I" were forbidden for Object and Object learned fast that "you" and "them" and "he" and "she" were better words, more pleasing for Their ears and Object was glad he did its job as an object well.
But Object had a little malfunction in its system. Object was thinking and Object was seeing what no one else could. It saw more than there was and in that More, Object wasn't just an object, there Object was in fact useful, one of a kind, and it was respected and talked to like to a real person, like to a close friend, really.
Object didn't understand, and was sometimes annoyed by this More. Because More popped up for talk when it was least necessary – when Object was doing its rightful duty as a good object should. But More didn't want to hear any of those excuses. More wanted to talk. So Object, like it was used to, let others do as they please and it tried to keep up with everything.
And More talked and Object listened.
And They put Object to a task and it had done it.
And More explained his world and Object understood.
And They said work needed to be done and Object did it.
And More asked Object what did it think, and Object didn't reply, because it was doing what They told it to do.
And They noticed. They noticed that Object was being weird, that Object was clearly doing work for someone that wasn't Them. And They put Object to so much work that it wouldn't have any chance but to only work, forever. They also hurt Object in a way that scared Object the most – they showed it what it didn't have. And Object was sad and terrified and it hurt and it cried and They hurt it even more, so Object decided to stop crying where They could hear and instead cried when it was alone.
And in a while Object stopped crying, because it stopped hurting and Object was all right. Object didn't hurt anymore, Object didn't see anymore for Object didn't feel anymore. And Object started forgetting. Object forgot everything before becoming an object, Object even forgot trying to not be an object and Object stopped caring. And worst of all, Object didn't hear More anymore. More tried to talk, but Object couldn't hear him, and Object was afraid.
Object didn't remember how long it was quiet on the inside, Object never counted. Alone, doing what good Object should, chained to that wall, Object only wished to be left alone.
Object dreamt about a place where it would be alone, without orders, without Them needing help. When he was numb even to More's screams, Object could do nothing but obey.
And They told it to something and Object did it.
And They told it to help Them and Object did.
And They told it to sleep and so Object did.
And They told it to be happy and Object was happy.
And They were pleased to make such a good object, for it did everything right. They knew Object wouldn't run now, because Object would be lost without Them. They made a perfect plan for Object's future and Object didn't oppose. And Object was glad that they were quiet and not criticizing its every move, and all that numbness inside of it grew even more numb.
But one day They made a mistake. They sent Object to retrieve something small from a little farther away. Object was always glad to go pick something up, but this time, They forgot to tell it what to think about, what to feel and Object felt what it thought it was right. And while walking to that definite place, Object felt something it didn't feel for a while. Object heard something scratching deep inside of it and even though Object felt that it shouldn't, it still tried to determine what that was.
And Object remembered More.
More wanted out, More needed help and Object was determined to help it like a good object would. Object did many things to get More back out, many of which scared Object and doing it while it still had to do Their bidding was even harder. But in the end with a loud crack, More came free and started talking, like it always did.
More wasn't angry at Object because it locked it away, More was angry at Them, and Object was thankful More couldn't touch Them, because They were still Object's creators and masters to his chains and he didn't want to think of what would happen to More if they knew he was there.
But over the time without More Object learned how to act and react like a seemingly good object, so More could stay. And More still wasn't angry at Object for keeping quiet about him; no, More was worried about Object. And More talked to Object like it was a friend again, and Object felt as it had a friend.
More and Object learned how to keep quiet and More respected Object and Object was really happy to have More around. And Object learned how to make More's words show in the world where More wasn't. And both of them were happy together and they had a laugh.
Object now knew it would be trapped doing Their bidding forever, but it didn't care, because it had More. And it made More even louder and it listened to his words more enthusiastically than to Their orders. Object decided to not worry about More, and More had to promise he won't go anywhere again.
And Object organized its existence. There was work for Them and there was fun with More. Them always came first, but More could talk while Object was doing their bidding. Object was good at it now. It learned how to manage both. And Object was happy. And whenever Object was scared More made it all right, and Object dreamt about a world where They wouldn't be, and knew that such world doesn't exist. Object would always be an object, it was made into one and it could not afford to fail its creators.
But one day something happened that that made Object's world tremble. It wasn't More. More was his normal self. Something split open and there were hands that pushed Object away from the chains in which he was captured. It threw it outside, where it never was. Blinded by the light, Object wanted to escape back into the darkness where all was safe and well known. But as Object turned around, the door was closed in front of its nose, locked and key lost.
A voice came then. A voice unlike what Object was used to. It wasn't More's friendly loud voice, for More was scared as well at that moment, or Their ordering one. The tone of it was simple and it told Object in a way it would be telling a child. It said:
"You are not an object, you are a being! Go out there and live in the world you want to live, live a life you want to have!"
And for the first time in its existence, Object was lost, confused and terrified even beyond More's help.
Anna Valerious: "What do you want?"
Frankenstein's Monster: "To exist."
- Van Helsing
A/N: Like? Review ... or not.