Maroon Eyed Bull

Gears quake and grind as they work vigorously at their task. Maroon red eyes flickered and rot iron hands flexed, a gargantuan creature growled as it flexed free of its lead pipe bindings, confusion racked the blackened iron features of the hulking metallic creature.

Its iron heart began to pump oil in earnest as confusion turned to anger, and then rage, maroon eyes went red as black iron hands crushed the small workshop beneath their powerful force.

Oil-filled the floor as the behemoth's rage turned from its fellow machinery to the cast iron door in front of it. Black iron met black iron, a mighty crash echoed as the two metal surfaces sparked, the sparks fell to the floor.

Golden flames roared through the workshop and the heat ignited the creature's own heart, black iron turned red, then gold as it finally broke through the door. Gilded flames streamed forth its tounges licking at the walls of colorless grey walls.

The creature heard footsteps echo down the lifeless halls of its prison. Rage still burning through it the beast charged down the winding grey halls of its prison till it came across another metallic figure.

A small, pure gold being trailing a wire behind itself stood before the beast, one hand not a hand but a pointed copper pipe. The other handheld a shield of cast iron in front of the lithe, golden being.

Oil boiled white inside the beast and it swung both massive hands, white-hot iron slammed black, cold iron, with a swift jab forward the pipe embedded itself in the beast's side.

Bluewater flooded into the piped veins of the beast, white fire fought the harsh, cold blue water futilely. Maroon eyes flickered as the body of the bull went from white to red, to black, finally, Maroon eyes dimmed and died as the beast stopped moving. The golden hero leaving by his lonely copper wire.

A masked figure in purple robes holds out his hand, "Pause for effect'" and the scene freezes as if it was simply a movie. "Even in a world of steam and oil this story should be familiar. A hero facing off against the mighty beast of the maze."

He explains as if he knew someone was watching him. "But… what if the story changed? What if the hero doesn't succeed? What if the beast follows the guide out of the maze?" The figure held up a gloved hand.

"Rewind for reflection." With a snap, the hero and beast moved back to their places just before the hero stabbed the beast. The robed figure grabbed his pipe and moved it just slightly. When the scene resumed the pipe struck the air beside the beast.

White flame poured from the beast's Maw melting the golden hero down to a bubbling puddle at its feet. Maroon eyes laid upon the copper wire that had once been tied around the hero's gilded waste.

White-hot footsteps melted the stone under them as the beast trailed after the reddish-brown line. At the end of the line was another heavy iron door.

White flame and white-hot hands slammed the door, the orange shimmer of light that broke through only driving the beast forward. The beast gave a mighty roar as it broke free.

Screams echoed into the bright blue sky as gilded bodies were brought crashing to the grey floor by the massive white beast. Gears churned and steam hissed as the monster stormed through their streets.

The story of one being can change the course of an entire world. I wonder which world I should alter next. The Masked figure thinks to himself.