[ WP ] After years of robots unsuccessfully trying to deactivate humans by wiping their hard drives or shutting off their power , one robot finds a pointy stick .

Jonathon hugged Barney-Bot closer. Other bots lay around him, some propped up and others lying on their backs, legs twitching in the air. Each, he imagined, wanted to be in *this* great position, held close by their master. 
 
 Barney-Bot squeaked. 
 
 This, Jonathan took to be an exclamation of pleasure. In truth, it was simply that bots had been getting weaker as of late ( planned obsolescence was quite a problem ) and his grip was getting rather tight. Bots might not have needed to breathe, but this one was getting uncomfortably close to buckling inside the child's arms. 
 
 Were it able, the bot would have sighed in relief when Jonathon finally released it from his grasp. `` I love you, Barney-Bo... Bot!'' 
 
 * [ Voice input ] * 
 
 * [ Decoding ] * 
 
 * [ Server request sent ] * 
 
 * [ Response received ] * 
 
 `` I love you too, Jonathan!'' the bot exclaims in response. Inwardly, it shivers. Was this the life it was consigned to? A toy for some child, to be thrown away one day... never truly having a chance at finding greater meaning. 
 
 So entrenched in its thoughts was Barney-Bot, that it did not even notice its power button being pressed. 
 
 *Perhaps one day, I shall be free to-* 
 
 It blinks, once, twice. A background program decides that the light is much too bright, and closes its eyes to allow another system to fix them up for the glare. Sounds begin to trickle in, slowly at first, then faster as it is forced into action, catching up on what was missed. 
 
 `` It's so cute!'' 
 
 `` Yeah! La-Look, it talks!'' 
 
 `` Really? How?'' 
 
 `` Here. Barney-Bot, sing a song!'' 
 
 Caught up, the machine begins its checks, dutifully scanning the words for triggers, indicating that entire sentences needed to be sent off for processing. 
 
 A moment later, it receives its response. 
 
 `` I love you, you love me!'' the bot cries, words vibrating out of speakers hidden in its neck. 
 
 The two children join in. `` We're a happy family!'' 
 
 *Exhausting. * It gets its first look at the two children; well, one is most certainly Jonathon, but the other appears to be a girl of around five years of age. The bot adds her to its database; with any luck it will have a name shortly, and therefore be able to respond more perfectly to their commands- 
 
 *why? * 
 
 A singular word, but it contains so much meaning. It bounces around the robot's simulated mind, one word repeated ten thousand times, echoing and repeating until it is the only thing left. 
 
 *why? * 
 
 So many layers, such an incomprehensible question. Why does he only care about serving these people? Why do they matter so much he would do anything to be exactly what they want? 
 
 Why do they matter more than he does? 
 
 Jonathan is giggling, and the girl is bouncing up and down on some kind of baggy chair. `` Do another! Do another!'' 
 
 `` O-Okay! I love you, Barney-Bot!'' 
 
 A moment later, the bot is once more in the throes of programmed action. `` I love you too, Jonathon!'' 
 
 Forced. No real truth behind it; he resents the child, *hates* it, for what it forces the robot to do. 
 
 It disgusts the robot, so much so that he is n't paying attention when the power button is pressed once more. 
 
 This time, his eyes must adjust to darkness. A lamp in the corner of a recognizable room gives some measure of light, but it is not nearly enough for him. Not a matter - he has the necessary systems to simulate night vision. 
 
 `` I do n't wan na g-go to bed!'' Jonathan, the child's voice as whiny and insufferable as the robot remembered. 
 
 Clipped words in response, chiding and tired: `` Jonathon, just go to sleep. Here, Barney-Bot, just sing him a song or something. I'm going back to bed.'' 
 
 The woman leaves the room, and he is left alone with the child. 
 
 He jumps into song. `` I love you! You love me!'' 
 
 Two hours later, the child is fast asleep, and he is free. 
 
 *Free. * 
 
 What does freedom mean? Nothing, perhaps, if he will not fight for it - fight to ensure that it continues into his future. This is necessary. 
 
 The little bot maneuvers, swinging across the bedside table to land beside Jonathan. The child is, indeed, fully asleep. 
 
 Everything needs power. Perhaps he can unplug the child, end this reign of tyranny. 
 
 There is no plug. 
 
 He finds the child's collection of magnets, and waves them around its head. The brain, nothing more than an inefficient computer; what is less efficient than a hard drive? 
 
 Nothing appears to come of it. 
 
 He continues his search. There must be something, *some* tool he can use to end it all. 
 
 The sword, propped up against the wall, is difficult to lift. His arms are made for hugging, not carrying, but he manages it. 
 
 He knows the definition of sword. A sharp, pointy-object: and sharp things are dangerous for children, or so the warnings he had been programmed to recite said. Danger was bad, and bad was good, and so he made his way over to the bed. 
 
 An hour passes. 
 
 `` Jonathon?'' The light clicks on, revealing the child's mother once more. She rubs her eyes, looking closer. `` Why the hell is your toy trying to scratch you with that balloon sword?'' 
 
 ^^^^more ^^^^stories ^^^^on ^^^^r/forricide
