It offered itself, with it's octagonal section as an item of sinister doings, yet very welcome to the stricken traveller, who had traversed the room to meet with its dark silhouette. He picked it up, the weight giving a sense of potency, the machined edges perfectly formed for destruction. It's grey hue glistened in the nocturnal light, reassuring him of it's metallic nature. He considered it in his hand, the item with which he would commit the untold act of the utmost selfishness and cowardice, oh how he had been reduced. It fell to the floor with a clang, the grey monster returning to its slumber. Silently watching on as the traveller scuttled back to the familiar warmth, yet never had it felt so cold.