“Will this wailing ever stop?” I tried to scream over the noise. Lester just looked blankly at me, both hands firmly wedged against his ears. It was no good of course; the ultrasonic squeals could penetrate flesh as easily as metal or plastic.

Frustrated, I banged my fist against the workbench. Serves me right for trusting Lester to make a knock off. I should have just bought the damn thing for full price from the store. But he had been so convincing…

“Mate, they’re ripping you off. I can get that skin tone twice as cheaply – and I’ve got contacts for the best quality horsehair and synthetic lips. The rest the dump can provide – that’s where all companies get their machines nowadays.”

To his credit, she was beautiful. Almost perfect…

In the end, we brought her to the docks and tossed her to the sea, where she bubbled poison green and her skin melted. And we left her for dead.

But, deformed as she was, my automaton bride had not died. Her demented song continued, driving sailors to watery graves…