(: Ragtime :)

:warning: PANIC ATTACK, GLITCH, PTSD, GLITCHY MUSIC, ETC :warning:

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Maxwell Damien Carter never would’ve imagined that he would be at the mercy of some silly little robot, and especially not because of a joyful, frolicky tune that they had somehow learned to play from their internal speakers.

However, he’d listened to that joyful, frolicky tune. Oh, he’d listened to it all right. Yes indeed, Mr. Carter had heard it.

He had heard it on repeat for 17 years.

“̶̡͖̻̘̾͋̈́̈́͘Ẃ̴̨̞̟̜̖̭͊̀̔Ḣ̸͈̣Y̸̲̜̪̩̿̽͐̍͌̕ ̸̛̺̦̻͎̲̠̂Å̶͙͇̤͓̞̖̽͆͘Ŗ̶̨̧͖̘̒͋͝Ë̴̳̊͝ ̷͚̼͋͘Y̷̑̎̽͜Ǒ̵͕̊͊̄̅̇Ŭ̶͔̼̦̗ ̷̗͈͔́̿̓͋͑̔Ď̸̝̫́͑Ǒ̸͚͑͊I̷̯͒̾̌́̈́̓͜N̶͍̙͇͈̪̋̚G̵͇̪͙͛́͂̋̕ͅ ̵̳̻̯̂͊͝T̶̙̼̮̍H̷̨̺͚̆̍͋̊͜͜͝I̸̠͇̮̺̠̓̒̏S̷̢͈͍̪͗́͆̿?̶͎̀̋̚!̵̟̘̮̱̙̿͊͜ ̸̡̰͍͚̍̄G̷̲̺̃͝O̵̪͎͉̹̓̎̓D̸̺̠̮͈̝͛̊͜͠,̵̫̦̦̊̓̊̓̎͊ ̷̧̜̃̿͐̂̔Ṯ̷̨̡͍̈̈́ͅU̴̡̟̪̖̟͔͑͝R̷̡̞͛̎̎̒̕͝N̶̢̢̻̜͍̰͆ ̷̩̟͔̃I̷̜̬̥̊̔̈́͝ͅT̵̫̎́̽ ̴̢̨̨̣̗̦̍̅O̴̺͇̟̘̮̼̊͘F̶͓̼̳̙̈́̒̔̅F̷̧̹̺̣̻̏̊̀̎̃͜͠—̸̧̥̜̰̊T̸͎͕͒͗͆͐̈́͝ͅU̵̦̳̒̀̄̀̂R̶̝͔̪̜̋́̇N̸̢̻̱͖̪̚͜ ̶͉̭͌͠Ȋ̶̼̾T̷̨̡͍͇̿̕ ̵̡̳͊͜͜͠Ȏ̴̺̃̀F̶̪͔͇̝̑͂͠͠F̷͇͈̓͗́̋!̴͉͕̋́̕ ̵̫͍̓͌̆̌̑̽I̵͙̰̾͂͑̃ ̸̱͙͈̦̫̱̂̽̊͆͒̋B̷͖̜̊̌E̵̲͖̻̪͔̎͂͐͊͌̽G̴̨̺̩̲̫͕̋͐͌̔ ̶̺̝͓̘̯̾Ǫ̸̹̟̳́F̴̨̜̲̘͈͍͐͂̾̕ ̴̢͚̈̿̅͘͠ͅY̷͔̆̓̏͒O̷̡͍̲̯̬̿̾̽U̷͇͐͒͌̀,̶̲̜̣͝ ̵̯̠̜̻̰̾P̴̣̻͆̔͌̈́L̴̗̘̜̩̘̊Ë̸̱́͊Ą̶͖̦͈̬͍͊̊̔͆Ṩ̵̡͇͚̝͊̏̾͘͝Ȅ̸̼͉̻̟̙̓͆ ̷̛̞͙̄̓̽̂S̷̝̣̈̔̋͛T̵̥̙̠̬̀̿̚͜ͅO̷̧̪̼̣̣͙͆͠͝P̵̡̽!̴̢̥̙͚̭̼̈̽̍̓—̴͎̝́W̸̠̯͓̻͉̅̓H̵͚̪͇͚̗̪͂Å̸͖̗̹͇͓͔T̵̻̥̔͂̋͠͝ͅ ̴̤̟͓̗͙͔͑̀͗D̴̡̛̫̟̮̾̚͝I̶̡̧͍̤̔͌̄̂́D̴̛͎͖̺̋̾̿̚ ̶̯͉͖̈́̇́I̷͔̖͗̔̔̓̅̚ ̶̜̝̈͊ͅE̸̞̙̤͊̆̄̇͝V̷̨̭̈́̒ͅȄ̸͕̪͓̻̝̏̕R̸̹̤͕̄̂̏ ̵̥̘̏́D̵̞̼̣̞̩̀O̵̫̻̓ ̵̝̼͉̑̓T̸̞͎̜̰̭̺͑̏̀Ŏ̸͉̞ ̷̺̚Y̶͉͍̞̿ͅȌ̸̗̠̪̗͋̂̊Ȗ̵̪̤͗?̶̢̢̱͒̽̃̓̾̈́!̸̝͕̯̟͖̈”̵͋͛̍͑ͅ

Unfortunately, no matter how many times he pleaded with with the automaton, and no matter how shallow and rapid his breath got, it didn’t matter to them. They thought it was the epitome of humor! The more blackened tears shed, the more hair ripped from his scalp, the m̶o̶r̸e̸ ̶b̶e̷g̵g̸i̶n̷g̸ ̴a̷n̷d̶ ̶b̶e̴s̵e̷e̸c̴h̷i̵n̷g̵,̵ ̸t̸h̴e̷ ̴m̷o̴r̸e̸ ̸h̸e̷ ̶p̸r̶a̵y̷e̷d̶ t̸̳͑̌ó̵̹̤̊͌ ̵͙͗̇a̴̮̠ ̵̫̎̇̈́g̸̰̠̑̀͠ö̸͇d̴͕̲̀̔̍ ̴̫̘h̷̢͇͛̇͘e̷̬̦̥͌̄̍ ̷̲̅̆͑h̷͖̥̫͛͂͘ȧ̶̗d̵̪͋̀ ̸̱̗̍had n̸̡̛̹̦e̴̝͑v̶̡͔̼́̾̈ë̴͍́r̶͙͕̖̔ ̵̱̤͊͋͐ò̴̖ņ̸̧͐̒ͅc̷̩̻e̸̙̋ ̴̗̃b̸̭͆̎̃ẽ̵̺l̴̲̄͐̊į̶̰̏͝ḛ̴̘̦̒̎̊v̵̦̾̿ȅ̶̟͂̽͝d̷͚̥͙̦̔́̈͆̇ͅ ̵̡́́͐̋͝i̴̧̛̟̥̼͕͖̓̔̌̈́̃̔͘ͅn̸̰̟͌ͅ,̷̺̇̍́̽͘ ̴͓͕̻̝͙̜̻͛̊̔̊̓ṱ̴̡̨͔̹̖̯͂̆̋̓͘͝ḥ̶̢̬̅é̵͍̹͖̏̎ ̷̡̫͙̬̮̠̩͒̀m̴̢͈̪̤̪̥͊̇ŏ̴̝r̴͖̿͝e̵̡̮̜͚͍̺͈͗͑͋̎̆̈́͊͜ ̷͕̼̥̖͌͑̈͛̎͑͠h̶̨̛̛̭̜͖̯̥̀͐̃͛e̷͇͍̯͉̬̞̪͗̎͋̒̑̚̚͝ ̴̢͎̳̼̙̈͒̍̓

s̵̪̝̾̀͐̊͒̑̓̀͒̈́͛ṷ̸̞̯̜̗̫̗̘̭̦̮̑̅͋̚͜f̸̼̯̫̂̄͆͑͋̀͆̈́͊͝f̷̛̖͔̫͖͚͚͕̲̲̝̹̙̰̽͊̀̒̃͑̿͑͜͝͝͝ͅe̷̡̬͍̪̭̟̟̯͙̯̘̅̆̃͌r̴̨̟͙̆ĕ̸̲̦͖͙̜̝͓̳͔̯̟̰͎̠͇̃̃̒͌̿͂̈́ď̸̢̢̮̟̳̬̜͇̤̱̭͕̩̔̾̑̈̋͊̈̏̚͠͝ ̴̧̢̜͉̰͇̭͙̼̤̫̬̘̺̒͂̔ͅͅ,

the more entertained WX-78 became.

After all, they had no empathy module, and out of every survivor, Maxwell knew this is best:

The show must go on.

CURTAIN CLOSE

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Translation for those who need it: “WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS?! GOD, TURN IT OFF—TURN IT OFF! I BEG OF YOU, PLEASE STOP!— WHAT DID I EVER DO TO YOU?!”

“…more begging and beseeching, the more he prayed to a god he had never once believed in, the more he suffered…”

This took me 3hrs, 22 minutes, and 22 seconds! :D

FLASH WARNING>

#angstyfanart