Amnesia: A Machine For Pigs Discussion Topic Part 1

[Damascus]

I'm bored so I did a thing. It's mostly stupid. I based this story on some of my own theories surrounding what the game is about.

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Mandus handed the professor his glass gingerly, brimming as it was with red wine. Friedrich sniffed it cautiously. He was getting on in age, and his sense of smell was beginning to fail him.

"What year?" Professor Friedrich asked.

Mandus sat opposite him on his plush velvet chair. "1868."

The professor considered the wine. "The same year my son was born..." he mused. The light of the library's fireplace shimmered through the liquid.

"Still no leads on his whereabouts?" Mandus asked calmly.

Friedrich shook his head sadly and took a sip of the wine, and grimaced. It tasted bitter. Metallic. "What variety did you say this was?"

"Cochon d'sang."

Friedrich inspected Mandus. "I don't believe I've ever heard of that."

"Have you had time to study my designs, professor?" Mandus asked with a smile, pushing a piece of paper across the table toward him.

The professor recognized it as a copy of the designs that Mandus had sent to him earlier in the month.

"A medicine, you say," the professor mused as he looked over the blueprints. "From the serum of pigs. I've studied the model you sent me with it, and it seems to be able to work in theory."

"Then, we have a deal?" Mandus asked impatiently.

"The pure amount of flesh the design specifies..." Friedrich pushed the paper back. "My dear mister Mandus, I admire your vision. I truly do. But surely, there are not enough pigs in the whole of London to feed the appetite of such a machine."

Mandus' smile faded. "That all rather depends, Professor, on what one considers to be a pig."

Friedrich adjusted his glasses. "I'm sorry?"

"Wouldn't you like to see the proper version?"

Mandus led him around the mansion, toward the large warehouse that had been erected on his property. He moved slowly enough for the old man to follow, but the Professor suddenly found himself struggling to keep up. His head was beginning to feel warm and dizzy. Was he coming down with a fever?

Mandus opened the door to the warehouse and let Friedrich lead the way inside. What the Professor saw made him reel back in disgust.

The place smelled overwhelmingly of blood, a smell that reminded him of the wine he had drank earlier. The massive grinder that took up most of the room extended downward, into a large shaft that penetrated the earth. Great gears and belts groaned as they turned, fueling the machine. Gristle and flesh hung from the grating over his head.
He put his hand over his mouth to resist the urge to vomit. A human finger dangled from the grating by a tendon.

Mandus wrapped an arm around the old man's neck and began to drag him further inside. Growing dizzier and weaker by the minute, Friedrich was helpless to resist. He found himself pinned down and strapped onto a metal table. Mandus hovered over him as he struggled.

"What have you done?!" Friedrich cried, thrashing against his bonds.

"You should relax," Mandus cooed. "Your flailing about will only make it more painful."

The old man wanted to know what Mandus was doing with him, but he couldn't speak. His very bones began to ache, and his muscles felt as though they were on fire.

"We must wait until your body has finished processing the serum," Mandus continued, leering over him. Friedrich could see how red his face was; how much he was sweating. "Only then can we put you through the machine."

"What madman could create such a machine?!" the Professor managed to squeal out, but his voice began to crack.

"Professor, this world is a machine," Mandus whispered matter-of-factly. "A machine for pigs."

The professor tried to scream, but it instead came out as an animal-like squeal.

"Fit only for the slaughtering of pigs."