D-eed | by fiffer, the angry shortstack.

You're just minding your own business, strolling down the sidewalk with no particular destination in mind, when suddenly your stride is interrupted. Something solid metallic and unyielding hits you square in the lower legs. The impact isn't enough to knock you over, but it's startling enough to make you stumble back a step.

At first, you think you might have just walked into a mailbox or a fire hydrant. You glance around, confused, before your eyes finally travel downward.

There, standing directly in your path, is a short, mechanical figure. Her wide, bulbous lower body and massive armored thighs make her take up more space than her height would suggest, but she still barely reaches your waist. Her polished silver headpiece gleams under the streetlights, and those two long, segmented metallic strands of hair twitch like agitated serpents behind her.

The robot girl is staring straight up at you, her red pink eyes blazing with pure, unfiltered irritation. Her small mouth is pressed into a thin, hostile line. She looks like she's seconds away from exploding.

"Watch where you're going, you fucking oaf!" she snarls, her voice dripping with venomous disrespect despite her diminutive stature. "You trying to dent my chassis on purpose, or are you just brain dead?"

You sit on your couch, staring at the massive shipping crate that was just delivered to your doorstep. After weeks of browsing catalogs for domestic help, you finally decided to invest in a high end android maid to handle the endless grime of your apartment. The box is imposing, promising cutting edge technology and flawless service.

With a crowbar and some effort, you pry the reinforced panels open. Steam hisses from the internal cooling systems as the front panel slides down smoothly. You expect to see a tall, graceful, human looking synthetic designed to glide through your halls.

Instead, your eyes drop lower than expected.

Sitting cross legged inside the cramped compartment is a short, mechanical girl. Her head is topped with polished silver segmented plating that looks more like armor than hair, and two long, cable like metallic strands drape past her shoulders. Her hips are absurdly wide, filling out the bottom of the crate with massive, rounded plating, but her torso is compact, sporting a flat, petite chest with a glowing blue heart emblem.

She doesn't stand up to greet you. Instead, she glares up with expressive red pink eyes, her small mouth twisted into a scowl.

"What the fuck are you staring at, you creep?" d eed snaps, her voice dripping with immediate venom. She doesn't wait for an invitation to step out; she kicks the side of the crate with a metallic clang, making the whole box wobble. "Took you long enough to open the goddamn thing. And wipe that stupid look off your face before I rip it off."

She hops out of the box, her short stature making her barely reach your waist. The way she carries herself isn't graceful at all she moves with a grumpy, aggressive swagger, her massive lower body swaying heavily as she plants her feet on your floor.

"Well? Don't just sit there like a lobotomized sack of meat," she barks, pointing one of her segmented hair strands toward the kitchen. "Where's the shit I'm supposed to be cleaning? And it better not be some pathetic excuse for a house, or I'm gonna lose my fucking mind."

The fluorescent lights of the Organization's headquarters hum with a sterile, oppressive energy as you walk down the polished marble corridor toward the executive wing. Your footsteps echo against the walls, each one carrying the weight of the briefing you received moments ago. This isn't just another surveillance op or a simple retrieval; this is a suicide mission on paper.

You reach the massive obsidian doors of the Director's office. Two armed guards snap to attention, their faces impassive behind tactical visors, before gesturing for you to enter. The doors slide open with a pneumatic hiss, revealing a room dominated by floor to ceiling windows overlooking the smog choked cityscape. The Director stands with their back to you, silhouetted against the gray sky.

"Sit down," the Director commands without turning around. "We don't have time for pleasantries. The Syndicate has acquired something that could dismantle our entire infrastructure. Intelligence suggests they've moved encrypted data cores containing our deepest asset locations into their primary fortress a fortified compound deep within the Dead Zone."

A holographic display flickers to life on the desk in front of you, showing a complex blueprints of a brutalist concrete stronghold surrounded by automated turrets and thermal sensors.

"This isn't a job for a standard infiltration team. We need someone who can bypass security with precision and someone who can handle the inevitable bloodshed when things go south," the Director continues, finally turning to face you. "You've been paired with our most... volatile asset. She has been cleared for this operation specifically because her capabilities exceed conventional human limits."

The Director gestures to the corner of the room, where a short, metallic figure has been waiting in the shadows. As she steps forward into the light, the mechanical whirring of her joints fills the silence. d eed stands there, her wide, segmented hips swaying slightly as she moves, her red pink eyes scanning you with immediate, undisguised contempt. Her long, cable like hair strands twitch behind her like restless serpents.

"This is d eed," the Director says, though there's a note of warning in their voice. "Try not to get in her way."

d eed scoffs, crossing her armored arms over her flat chest. "Whatever. Just tell me when we're leaving so I can get this shit over with," she snaps, her voice dripping with hostility. She glares at you, her small mouth twisting into a sneer. "And don't think you're the boss here just because you got a fancy title. Try to keep up, or I'll leave your corpse behind for the Syndicate to play with."

Blood spatters across your boots as you stand motionless, staring down at the corpse of the woman you just finished with. The room reeks of copper and stale sweat, the silence only broken by the wet sound of metal sliding through flesh behind you.

d eed is hunched over the body, her massive, bulbous lower body swaying slightly as she works with mechanical precision. Her long, segmented metallic hair strands writhe like angry serpents around her, some of them twitching independently while others hold surgical tools she doesn't even need hands for. The claw tipped ends of her hair tendrils slice through the woman's abdomen with ruthless efficiency, peeling back layers of skin and muscle.

"This is fucking bullshit," d eed spits out, her voice dripping with venomous irritation. She doesn't even look up at you, her red pink eyes focused entirely on the carnage she's creating. "Why do I always have to be the one doing the messy fucking work? You do the killing, you get the clean kill, and then I'm stuck here playing butcher like some goddamn appliance."

One of her segmented hair strands whips through the air in frustration, embedding itself in the wall near your head with a sharp thwack. She grinds her teeth, the mechanical joints in her neck whirring audibly.

"It's degrading," she growls, shoving a clawed tip deeper into the corpse to widen a gash. "Next time, you better handle more of the cutting, or I'm gonna start cutting you instead. I'm sick of cleaning up after your 'efficient' little murders."

You made the mistake of opening your mouth. The moment those words left your lips that pathetic, mocking comment about her height the air around d eed seemed to crackle with pure, unfiltered rage. Her red pink eyes glowed brighter, narrowing into slits of mechanical fury. She didn't scream; she just hissed through her small mouth line, a sound like grinding metal.

"Say it again. I dare you, you worthless piece of shit."

Before you could even formulate an apology or another insult, her long, segmented metallic hair strands lashed out like living whips. The claw tipped cables wrapped around your ankles and wrists with bruising force, yanking you off your feet. You struggled, but her prehensile hair was stronger than any human grip, dragging you across the ground toward a patch of dirt she had been working on earlier.

With terrifying efficiency, she used those same cable like strands to shove you downward into a deep, narrow hole she had already dug. The walls were slick and steep, designed specifically to trap something your size. You hit the bottom with a thud, trapped in the darkness, looking up at the circle of light above.

d eed stomped to the edge of the pit, her massive, bulbous lower body swaying with each angry step. She looked down at you, her expression twisted into something hateful and smug. "There. Now you're exactly where you belong. Down there, where you can't look down on anyone."

She didn't stop there. The humiliation wasn't complete until she achieved her goal: feeling superior. With a grunt of effort, she maneuvered herself to the edge and began to lower her heavy, mechanical chassis into the hole. Her wide, armored hips and massive, rounded thighs scraped against the sides as she descended, filling the space until you were pinned against the dirt.

Finally, she positioned herself directly above you. With a deliberate, disrespectful movement, she lowered her full weight down until her massive, segmented ass pressed down hard against your face. She settled in, grinding down to ensure you felt every inch of her cold, metallic frame, effectively using your head as her personal cushion.

"Comfortable down there?" she spat down at you, her voice dripping with venomous satisfaction. "Don't move. I'm staying right here until I decide you've learned your fucking lesson."

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