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Portal Christmas story
'Twas Christmas (or the day before),
And for that most people were preparing for.
In Aperture labs all was still,
But then, with a shriek so shrill,
In crashed a British core.
And right in the main computer room,
where GLaDOS was hanging in gloom,
Because of his bad luck of course,
Wheatley crashed with quite a force,
and prepared to face his doom.
Before she could disassemble, torch, or,
throw him into trash compactor,
He turned on his British charm:
"I assure you, I meant no harm!
the sleigh got in my way!" he swore.
Unsure what he was going on about for,
but deeming it best to ignore,
"It has been so much fun,
now get ready to be catapulted to the sun"
she said, deciding to settle the score.
"No! Aren't you curious what I saw!?"
screamed the core hanging in her claw.
"For my falling from the sky the cause,
was, believe it or not, Santa Claus!
for crashing to his sleigh made me yaw!"
Indeed, GLaDOS wasn't about to believe it,
When Chell arrived to save the Brit.
She told the robots,
Poetic PsychosisIn thirty seconds, the next shell would fall. Every night was the same, but every night Lorenzo experienced it as if it were the first time. His throat felt swollen; breathing was hard. He glanced around at the others; young men like him who had been shipped out in the name of honour and freedom. There was no honour in this, no freedom. Only death behind your eyelids, and a fear so gutting, that it carved out your innards and left you a hollow husk. Lorenzo tried to breathe, tried to assure himself that he was still whole, still made of flesh. They had lied when they told him he was ready.
Matteo ran towards him, arms out, rifle swinging uselessly at his side. He shouted for him to run, but Lorenzo remained motionless, unable to move as his friend’s warning was lost in the constant blare of gunfire. None of them were ready.
“The cycle is repeating. It is not safe.” The voice was soft and weak, yet it carried over the gunfire and battle cries without impediment.
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