The Butterfly

I lay left on the dusty table, abandoned. I was untouched for decades. Not since he left. I once belonged to an amazing man. Yes, I would do his dirty work but we were a well oiled pair. But now he was gone and I am trapped like a butterfly that was nailed to a picture frame.

:rose: :rose: :rose:

When he first arrived, it was the most wonderful moment of my life. Ever since my creation I had pondered what I was truly meant for. I was shipped off in a crate with a black and white revolver, a cigarette case that held disguises, a shiny, silver and brown watch and a large metal box used for destroying machines. The revolver told stories of his last owner, a man who once worked for another company who ed to see what Mann Co could offer. Sadly he left after failing to trick stab. They never told us whom we were heading to nor where. The metal box, who insisted to be called ‘Sappity Sap’. He claimed to be a gift from his old owner to the new one. A shaft of light shone over us as our own opened the crate, his musty smell of cigarette smoke and cheap cologne wafted over us. He lifted Sappity up and examined him carefully. He shouted over the someone else. Sappity bleeped with surprise at seeing his old owner. Our owner said something to the other man.

Time ed since then. When he first used me the feeling was bittersweet. I had longed to be used for so long and when he did use me it was simply because he wanted to. That was until the robots arrived. The had wiped out the BLUs and rather than the feeling of being sunk into a human neck or back, I was thrusted into circuits and metal. He gained another watch he was a dead ringer of something I once encountered. My owner took more risks than before, leaping from high ledges to attack robots and humans alike. The new ‘Update’ happened and things change. Sappity remained but the revolver who once told me stories was wrapped in paint and given a killstreak counter. I myself, was dunked into a new, shiny, red coloured plaid warpaint. I too got a killstreak counter.

But with the Gary Mann taking over Mann Co, my owner left me abandoned in the room that once belonged to him. He didn’t own me anymore. No one owned me anymore. Freedom was a concept us items wished yet hoped it would never be. Who would clean and use us if we were free? Perhaps I was the butterfly effect that cause him to leave. Or maybe he just grew disheartened with everything.

:rose: :rose: :rose:

Sappity lay next to me, he was the only one who had yet to roll off the table or be sold off by our tormentor who abandoned us here. As we bide our time till we are forgotten or rust away. We both lay here as forgotten weapons that were once used in battle against a rival company. He, The Worm and I, The Butterfly.

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