It used to just whisper in the back of his mind and now it was able to move his right hand. He could deal with its voice telling him to do this, that and the other, but if it was growing able to do these things for itself then what would happen to him if, or when, it took over completely?
He didn't like to think about that, instead choosing to plot its amputation in such a way that if it was able to survive without him, it would die before it could escape and live out its strange little life. Fire was a good option but highly painful. A factory accident would also work and his next shift would put him on the main floor for standard maintenance.
When his right hand clawed down his left forearm and left him with several stitches, he decided to put an end to it. There were plenty of machines where he could risk a limb, he just had to make it look natural enough that he could play it off as either no-fault or mild negligence so he'd be able to keep his job with a nice cash settlement while he recovered from losing the wretched thing in his hand.
He chose the press towards the final stages of production, where hot rubber was compressed before being rolled into large coils that were sent to another factory. If he timed it just right he'd be able to crush his hand and stop the machine before it took the rest of him in.
If he timed it wrong, he wouldn't have to worry about his hand or his job again.
As he clocked in for what might be his final shift, he took a deep breath and headed straight to the press.
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