Note from Zee Techie: This is the product of me trying to kick writer's block out of my head. Also I'm trying to write Engie/Snippy…but this came out first instead. Forgive me if it doesn't make sense or isn't grammatically correct.

And I'm sorry it's so short.

…

Where had it all gone wrong?

I wrack my brain day and night trying to find the answers to all the questions I ask myself. But every answer I find brings up three more questions. It almost seems to be never ending. I made her perfect, so how is she flawed? Did something go wrong in the design? But I designed her, did I do something wrong? Did I miss something vital? Is she the product of a mad man?

Or is she the product of my own loneliness?

For years I spent my time alone and an opportunity to do something great is thrown my way. They asked me to make something to keep track of their copyrights, charge the people as they used them. So I started to ponder. In time I found my muse. She would be beautiful in both mind and design. They offered to send me a team but I told them I preferred to work on her alone. So they left me to my devices.

She would be perfect by my standards.

Nothing could possibly go wrong. I spent most of my nights working; crafting the perfect machine. When the time came I put her together. All her pieces were of high quality, everything was the best that the world could offer me. Each one was treated with a gentle touch, placed perfectly on her frame. Not one bolt was out of place. Soon she would wake up and together we would take the world by storm.

I activated her…

I swear it was love at first sight. She spoke to me and her voice sent shudders of pleasure down my spine. I was always that awkward guy in my days of school, never able to talk to girls. But with her I spoke with such confidence. She made me feel superior. But she needed a name. This lovely machine was ANNET to the world.

But she would be my girl, Annie.

I spent all my hours with her. Some days I found myself waking up at my desk, Annie greeting me with a cheerful 'good morning'. My co-workers asked me if I was creeped out by the fact that Annie watched me. I told them they were just jealous and returned to work. But I soon found myself swamped in another project. How was I supposed to find the luckiest man in the world?

Could someone define luck to me?

The man standing before me seemed like a moron, if anything. He spoke with a German accent and wore a Commanding Officer's get up. He acted superior but I was his supervisor. How could they stick this moron in my division? But I guess it doesn't matter as long as he doesn't bring any harm to my Annie. Then someone might have to die.

I studied him and found nothing.

I was almost ready to give up on this pointless project. There were other things I could be doing right now. Something more useful probably but they subjected me to this torture. Finally, I came to my own conclusions: this man was just filled with stupid luck. He could escape the most difficult situations without injuries and talk his way around anything. But his words they caused people to scratch their heads and think. It was amusing up until that fateful day.

He spilled tea in Annie's servers.

I was filled with rage and sadness when I walked into a room filled with dead people. Blood painted the walls and dead bodies littered the floor. It was like something from a horror movie. When I turned my sights on Annie she simply told me that she couldn't give me a hug because of my admin privileges.

But she still told me she loved me.

It was with a broken, heavy heart that I walked out of the facility and blew it all up. Watching everything go up in flames didn't make me feel better. I just burned years of work with a click of a button. I destroyed the one thing that I ever cared about. As I drop to my knees and cry I realize I killed the one woman that ever told me she loved me.

Please, forgive me Annie…