As James crept up to the door, a sense of dread flowed within him. Going from his head to his toes, he knew he wasn’t going to make it out alive. The curiosity was terribly crippling, as he had no clue what stood on the other side of that door. He pressed his ear against the cold steel, and tried his damnedest to listen to the things that resided opposite to him. His mind went blank as he concentrated so hard to listen to anything that would give him a clue as to what the hell he was going to have to fight off. “Will I go out in a blaze of glory,” he thought to himself, “or will I die a bitch?” The thought of death, the end of everything to a single mind, sent shivers down his spine. There were no other choices, as he had been cornered by whatever beast chased him here. That single door separated him, kept him safe, from the threat that loomed from the outside. “What the fuck was that?” he thought to himself. James held his weapon of choice, a pipe wrench, in his right hand and a freezing metal door handle in the other. He had found the pipe wrench in this room, this hell hole, just lying on the hard cement floor. “Why question in a situation like this? Fuck it,” he thinks. He watched his steps when he had decided that whatever had chased him here could hear him. “What if this thing could just burst through? Who am I to think I could hold back a fucking ghost, or whatever it is, with a door and some elbow grease?” He was overthinking it, he thought. With a slow breath in and a slow breath out, he held a firm grip on the handle and swung open the door. It was awfully quiet. After a few seconds, he then heard the mechanical whirring of gears and such. As James peered from behind the door, he realized the grand scope of the situation. Hundreds of white, smooth robots, no more than five feet tall, were facing his direction. Red lights, on what he could only imagine is their heads, flipped on all at once. They looked like the sleekest and cleanest version of what can only be described as something that is programmed to kill. Hardwired into the ‘brains’ of these bots was a series of ones and zeros that communicated to the host to destroy any and every life form visible. Of course, James was unaware of the intention of these things, but he knew that they most likely weren’t gonna offer some home-baked apple pie anytime soon. James looked on in horror, bewilderment, and trepidation as he pondered, “What the fuck are those, and why are there so many?” Their soulless features and threatening numbers shook James to his core. He then noticed what seemed to be little circular speakers on the chests of each bot. And at once, in perfect unison, they all started to play a pre-recorded instrumental of The Star Spangled Banner out of their speakers. Before James could process what was going on, turret guns shot out of the sides of each bot and started spinning. Ducking out of view of the bots, James knew he was about to meet his maker. He slammed the reinforced steel door shut, but knew that that wouldn’t hold them for long. His presumption was true, and the popping and crackling of the bullets shredding through the door and whizzing right past his head was deafening. “This is it, I guess,” James thought, as he bravely decided to charge the first bot that came through that hole in the wall. This was his last stand. Then, without skipping a beat, every single bot zoomed effortlessly in single file into the cold, dark room.