Bonesaw stood over the dining room table, with a mechanical spider-thing on the opposite side of the table, assisting her. A young man was on the table itself, his wrists and ankles tied down.
Aw, look, she’s working!
…alright, it’s not that adorable right now, but this is Bonesaw. It’s only a matter of time.
His torso was open from collar-bone to crotch, his ribs splayed apart. Bonesaw and her mechanical spider were elbow deep in the contents of his torso.
Usually when a character is red-faced in fiction, this isn’t why.
The spiders.
Ah, fuck. Robots. If the spiders have any semblance of sentience (not to be confused with them being AIs – they just need to sense and remember things, not be intelligent), they’re a risk for Imp just like Dragon was.
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